Laurence’s beast seemed to be laboring under the strain so Hetty reined in the stallion. “This fellow seems to want to be in Oxford almost as much as we do.” Hetty patted the side of the horse’s mane. “He’s been a wonderful companion.”
“I know. They’ve both been reliable and sturdy. I only hope the man who owns them isn’t also a traitor, but if he is, I’ll see about purchasing these animals.”
“With that adequate income you have?” Hetty asked the question, but immediately slapped her hand over her mouth at her impertinence.
To her surprise, Laurence threw back his head and laughed. “I know you think you’re being indiscreet, but I have to tell you, I’m sure you and I have earned the right to be honest with each other. After all, we’ve now spent two full nights together and a third with you on the buckboard of my rented carriage.”
“When you say it that way, I believe I don’t need to apologize for my words.”
“Never. Even twenty years from now when you’re a married woman with several children, you can still be honest with me.”
Her heart fell to her knees. He still wasn’t interested in her as a woman. Even after all their adventure, he thought of her as a—well, she didn’t know what he thought of her—but it was clear he wasn’t going to offer for her even though the threat of Henry Hammond was now in the past.
At that moment, she realized that was true. No matter what happened now, she wouldn’t have to marry Mr. Hammond. That was something to be grateful for and she smiled at the thought.
A shadow passed over Laurence’s face. “Are you thinking of those someday children?”
“Oh, no. Not at all. I’m thinking of Mr. Henry Hammond.”
“What?” The expression on Laurence’s face was a mixture of confusion and horror.
“Father certainly cannot expect me to marry the man now, can he?”
The relief on Laurence’s face at her words almost brought hope to Hetty’s heart but not quite. She knew she needed to protect herself from being hurt by him, but it was already too late since she’d been in love with him for as long as she could remember.
“Look.” Laurence pointed into the distance.
She followed his finger and let out a breath of relief. Seeing the spires of the city in the near distance gave her hope for obtaining her father’s lens before the Roundtree gentleman did.
“I think we should go straight to the laboratory,” she said.
“But it was already turned over and nothing was found. As you know, we thought they’d taken whatever it was along with your father.”
“And you also thought my father was part of the conspiracy. Trust me, I know where to look.”
“All right. We go to the laboratory first.”
She grinned. “Even though I’d rather have a bath.”
“Me, too.” He smiled back at her.
They rode directly to the street where her father’s building was. When they stopped in front of the premises, Laurence dismounted.
He came to her horse and held his arms up. “Let me assist you.”
“Nonsense. I can get down, it’s the getting back on that causes me problems.”
“There’s no one on the street. Let me be a gentleman and help you.”
Glancing about, seeing no one and wanting in the secret place in her breast for the man she loved to hold her even if only for a moment, she acquiesced and allowed him to reach up for her.
He took her by the waist and lifted her from the saddle as if she weighed nothing. It reminded her of when he’d hoisted her into the thing earlier. For a gentleman of a slighter build than her father and brother, he had an uncanny amount of strength.
She placed her hands on his shoulders and he pulled her toward him. It was as if time slowed and they were the only two people in the world. As she slid down Laurence’s body, he seemed to hold her even closer to him. Her breasts touched his chest and the torture as they made contact was palpable.
The heat emanating from her unnaturally since the lightning strike intensified to the point she thought they might burst into flames.
A fire in his eyes let her know he was feeling the same thing. He actually leaned in and for one wild moment, she thought he might actually kiss her. But it was not to be. The moment passed and he let go of her.
The movement caught her off guard and her knees buckled. Before she hit the ground, Laurence caught her and steadied her on her feet.
“Come. We need to get inside and see if you can locate that lens.” Laurence turned and walked briskly toward the door to the building.
Moving quickly toward the laboratory, Laurence tried to get hold of himself. He’d almost just made a fool of himself on the street. He wanted to kiss Hetty so badly, he practically would have taken her in the road.
Needing desperately to restore his equilibrium, he stepped away from her as fast as he could. Perhaps a bit of distance would help.
He opened the door to the building and without waiting for Hetty, strode down the hallway to the laboratory.
To his shock, when he stepped inside, he saw Mrs. Hale as well as Mr. Hale’s assistant hard at work cleaning the mess that had been left there when last he’d seen it.
Mrs. Hale turned at what he presumed was the sound of his footsteps. “Oh, it’s you, Mr. Fortescue. Hester left me a note that she was going with you to find her father. Is she with you and did you find James?”
Hetty came in at that moment. She let out a small squeal and ran to her mother. “We did find Father. He’s been injured and—“
“Injured?” Mrs. Hale went white and appeared to be about to swoon.
Laurence dashed to her side and placed a hand under her elbow to held her up and lead her to one of the stools. “He’s going to be fine. We have someone taking him to London by cart. I suggest you make your way there in your carriage as soon as you can. He could very well be there by tomorrow morning.”
“Why did you leave him?” Mrs. Hale addressed her daughter. Her eyes widened. “And what are you wearing?”
“We’re still trying to capture one of the men who took him and I thought it would be better for me to be here to show Laur—I mean, Mr. Fortescue—where Father’s new lens is. That’s what they wanted.”
“For what purpose?” Mrs. Hale asked.
“Never mind, ma’am. We don’t really know, but we do know it was one of the reasons he was taken.” Laurence sure didn’t want Hetty telling everyone they came across that the men they sought were traitors to their country.
“Come with me to London, Hester. Once you show Mr. Fortescue what he wants, come home, get cleaned up, and throw away those awful garments. We shall then leave for town.”
“No, I want to finish this. They beat Father and I need to see this to the end. I promise to come to London as soon as I have done all I can to make sure the men who harmed my family are all caught.”
“It’s unseemly. I only didn’t chase you after you left because I didn’t want to call attention to what you were doing. You left without permission, but now that I’ve seen you, I have to tell you that you do not have permission to go with Mr. Fortescue.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, but I won’t give up.” Hetty stepped over to one of the tables and moved some beakers aside.
“If your mother thinks you should go to London, perhaps you should do as she asks,” Laurence said. He hoped she would since he needed some time away from her in order to forget the way she’d wriggled herself into his heart. It had been made clear by her brother that Laurence wouldn’t be a welcome suitor. He had to forget her.
Hetty actually stomped her foot. “You were glad of my help earlier.”
“That was before I knew your mother wanted you not to keep going with me.” Exasperated, Laurence pulled his glasses off his face and wiped them on a cloth sitting on the table. “And speaking of going, I really need to be on my way.”
“You need the lens first, don’t you?” Hetty crossed her arms.
L
aurence could tell by the way she stood and the set of her jaw that she wasn’t going to give a bit if he didn’t agree to take her with him. “Yes. I do. You know that. Are you going to help me?”
She darted a glance in her mother’s direction.
Mrs. Hale threw her hands up. “I give up. Ruin yourself.” She turned on her heel and walked to the door.
When she reached the exit, Mrs. Hale faced the laboratory assistant. “Thank you for all your hard work, Mr. Johnson. I know my husband will be grateful for all you’ve done to make sure this place is set back to order.” She looked at Hetty. “I’ll be leaving for London in a little over an hour. I hope you’ll come home by then and accompany me to your father’s bedside.”
She left with a sweep of her skirts. Laurence had never seen a garment seem to take on the emotion of its owner the way Mrs. Hale’s did. Angry petticoats would probably haunt his dreams.
“Come with me if you want the lens.” Hetty moved toward the wall with several windows looking out over a grassy quadrangle.
Confused, Laurence glanced from side to side. Where could she be going? How could a lens be hidden there?
He did as she asked and came to stand beside her. “Where is it?”
She got on her knees and crawled under the table. “Hurry up.”
Shaking his head, he got down to her level. “What are you doing?”
Instead of answering him, she pressed her hand against the wood underneath the table. A small trap door opened.
Hetty thrust her hand inside and felt around. A frown formed on her face. “It’s not here.”
Disappointment flooded over Laurence. “So you think Roundtree got here ahead of us and has it?”
Mr. Johnson peered under the piece of furniture. “Your father moved it to the wall.”
“Why didn’t you say so?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Sorry. I try to stay out of the way of the family.”
Laurence couldn’t believe the man would’ve stood there and allowed Hetty to look in the wrong place, but he could understand his reluctance to interfere. A man who’d spent his life in a servant’s role would not speak unless spoken to.
Hetty made a face of disgust and ran her hand over the wall. She pushed in several places along the wainscoting. Finally, a piece popped open.
Peeking past her, Laurence saw an opening where there appeared to be some papers stashed as well as what looked to be a small spyglass.
“There it is.” Hetty reached in and pulled out the glass.
“Grab those papers, too. In case we need them.”
“Are you sure? We don’t know if Father would want us to do so.”
“We can talk to him about it later. It’s better to have them than not. They may have something to do with our mission.”
“Your mission, you mean,” she said.
“Don’t you think it’s become yours as well now?” He leaned toward her, intent on convincing her to take those papers and allow him to see them. When he got close, his intent changed as he got lost in her eyes.
She stared at him for a moment as if enraptured.
Almost kissing her, he held back as he could still feel the presence of Johnson behind him. He held out his hand. “May I see the spyglass?”
Letting out a laugh, she said, “Sorry. You distracted me.” Hetty handed him the item they sought.
He put it to his eye and even though the closest wall was only a few feet away, he could tell the difference in quality of this item over the others of its class. The British Army was known for its telescopic lenses and this was even an improvement over that. Laurence could certainly see why Napoleon would want this discovery.
“This is incredible,” he said.
A loud noise across the room startled him out of his rapture at the invention. He uncovered his eye and glanced over at the source of the sound.
Mr. Johnson was prone on the floor with Roundtree standing over him with a cudgel. “I’ll take that, Fortescue.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Hetty, startled by the shock of seeing her father’s servant on the floor with blood pouring from his head, tried to stand, forgetting she was huddled under the table.
She hit her own head, making herself ill for a moment, but only for a mere second. She pushed Laurence to move out of her way. As soon as he was in the clear, she slid out and stood.
“Give me the spyglass.” Roundtree stalked toward Hetty with the weapon at his side.
“Surely you don’t plan to hit me with that as well,” she said, glad her voice sounded stronger and clearer than she thought it would with her shaking knees.
“I don’t know who will stop me. Surely not that man over there.” Roundtree pointed at Laurence where he stood beside the table, spyglass sitting beside his elbow. “He’d be too busy trying to keep those spectacles on his face.”
Hetty charged toward Roundtree with her head down, intending to ram her head into his stomach and knock the breath out of him. She needed to get past him to check on Mr. Johnson and trusted Laurence to keep Roundtree away from her father’s invention.
In the moment she almost made physical contact with him, he stepped aside. Her momentum was such she couldn’t stop and she ended up smacking her head into the far wall.
It took a few moments to recover. She reeled backward, brilliant lights in her eyes as if she’d gotten too close to some fireworks. Her head ached and before she really knew what was happening, she bent over double and vomited on the floor.
Loud noises around her alerted her to the fracas between Laurence and Roundtree. She looked around in time to see her beloved be thrown against a chair. It slid across the floor and he staggered against it.
Finding his footing, he flung an arm out toward Roundtree. His fist made contact with Roundtree’s jaw.
The crack reverberated through the room and Roundtree went down hard. His head hit the floor with a thud and then actually bounced and hit again.
Fully regaining use of her limbs and seeing somewhat clearly again even though her head ached, Hetty dashed over to Mr. Johnson to be sure he was still alive.
Mr. Johnson sat up when she reached his side. He rubbed his head. “I’m all right. Help Mr. Fortescue.”
She glanced over at Laurence. He seemed to have the situation under his control. Tying Mr. Roundtree up with some rope he’d found in one of the drawers, he smiled at Hetty.
“The spyglass is safe and in one piece. I think it’s time to go to London and turn in this prisoner.” Laurence stood over Roundtree and wiped the side of his face with his coat sleeve. “I’d like to take the time to get cleaned up first. Do you think your mother would allow us to hold the traitor at her home until we’re ready to make our way to the city?”
“I’m sure I could convince her.” Hetty laughed. “Especially if I take the time to bathe and put on a gown.”
“Based on what she said earlier, I think that would please her immensely.” Laurence turned to Mr. Johnson. “May we call the doctor for you?”
“No. That man hit me, but other than a small touch of a headache, I feel fine.”
“I hate to tell you, Mr. Johnson, but you’re bleeding pretty badly. I think you need to have the wound sewn up. I could do it, but it may be better for the doctor to come,” Laurence said.
“All right then, but send for him to come here once you get Miss Hale home.” Johnson sat in one of the chairs he pulled upright from the floor. “I’ll sit quietly until he comes.”
“As soon as you’re set, please lock the door and go home,” Hetty said.
Mr. Johnson nodded his consent.
Laurence, with a little assistance from a couple of students he knew, got Roundtree out of the building and onto the large steed Hetty had ridden for the last two days.
Hetty mounted the other horse with a boost from Laurence and he then joined Roundtree’s passed out body on the black stallion.
They rode toward the Hale house, attracting attention as they went. Hetty hop
ed no one recognized her with the hat she’d shoved back over her hair and eyebrows.
She rode with her face averted and didn’t make eye contact with anyone, ridiculously praying that the house would move closer so the ride would end.
Eventually, they arrived at her front door.
The butler opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. Usually stoic, Simpkins’ eyes widened at the sight before him. Hetty wanted to laugh, but she knew that would insult his sensibilities so she bit it back.
Dismounting her horse, she turned to Laurence. “Are you going to bring Roundtree in?”
“If you think your mother wouldn’t mind. I’d like to leave him here while I return to my rooms to bathe and change my clothing.”
“I’m sure she will be amenable,” Hetty said.
Laurence slid off his mount and leaving Roundtree draped over the back of the animal, stepped over to Simpkins. “Could you ask Mrs. Hale if I could have my prisoner left here until I can return in approximately an hour?”
“Won’t you come in and discuss it with her yourself, sir?”
“Oh, no. I’m not presentable and would prefer to return when I’m clean.”
Hetty touched Laurence on the shoulder. “I’ll have some footmen bring him in and hold him until you return.”
“Please thank your mother for me.” He turned and once the two footmen collected his passenger, left. Riding the brown horse and leading the black stallion.
Following the men inside, Hetty found her mother standing in the hallway with her brother.
“What is this?” John asked.
Before Hetty could answer, he bent his knees and peered down at the man being carried inside. “Good Gad, what have you done to Roundtree?”
“I don’t have to answer to you. Move out of the way. We’re carrying him to the parlor until Laurence returns.”
“Laurence?” John raised his eyebrows. “You shouldn’t be so familiar with that man. Father will not be happy about it.”
“You’re wrong. Father already knows Laurence had a part in rescuing him and in his being taken to London to be seen by a doctor.” Hetty turned to address her mother. “I’m going to send for a bath and as soon as I come down, we can leave for London. Laurence will be back by then as well.”
Lightning Strikes Twice (The Heart of a Hero Book 4) Page 21
