All he could do was nod. “I know.”
She paused for a moment. “That’s what you want. Isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
Her approach began once more and he braced himself for the searing heat of her touch. “Why?”
“I cannot tell ye.”
“I don’t believe that.” Her arms wound around his neck and she gazed into his eyes. Her own were intensely dark, like the night sky outside. “I think you are choosing not to.”
“I’m just trying to protect ye.” This was as honest as he could be with her about his past and about the truth that had bound him to her father for the last twenty years.
“From what?”
Unable to tell her or to keep lying, he pulled her roughly against him and kissed her, certain that this was the last kiss he’d ever share, not just with her, but with anyone. Because after tonight, he would either be dead or arrested for murder.
19
There was no mistaking the moment when Hedgewick arrived. His voice filled the tavern with so much rage that Carlton glanced up at the ceiling, half expecting to see the plaster crumbling. He placed both hands on Regina’s shoulders and allowed himself one more second to imprint every detail of her face on his mind. Then, forcing himself to thwart his instinct, he set her aside and went to the door.
“Stay here,” he told her without looking back. He dared not check if she did what he asked as he headed toward the stairs and made his descent. All he could do was hope.
“Where is he?” Hedgewick shouted while Blayne and the rest of Carlton’s crew remained as calm as clams in a pool of shallow water. None of them moved, allowing Hedgewick, his son, Lord Seabrook, and the Bow Street runners they’d brought along with them to get a good look around.
Carlton paused on the stairs and met Blayne’s gaze. A moment of understanding hovered between them. Leaning one shoulder against the wall, Carlton crossed his ankles and his arms in a casual pose meant to imitate unruffled ease.
“Right ’ere.”
All eyes turned toward him, some with interest and some with concern. Hedgewick’s, however, were those of a man who had no intention of showing mercy. “You ruined my daughter,” he told him icily. “And I intend to make you pay.”
Carlton smirked, fully aware the expression would only infuriate Hedgewick further. “On the contrary, me lord, it is I who intends to make ye pay.”
Hedgewick scoffed. “You and I don’t even know each other. We’ve had no dealings in the past, so whatever it is that you think I have done, you’re obviously mistaken.” His eyes narrowed and he took a step forward, closer to where Carlton stood. “You, on the other hand, kidnapped my daughter and held her hostage.”
A movement at the top of the stairs caught the corner of Carlton’s eye, but he chose to ignore it. He couldn’t afford to let Regina distract him right now. Not when he was so close to seeing justice served.
He gave his opponent an easy smile. “Would she really be considered a hostage if she was staying with me of her own free will?”
Hedgewick bared his teeth and moved even closer, ignoring his son’s words of warning. “You bastard. I’ll wring your bloody neck myself if I have to.” Moving remarkably fast for his age and size, especially when taking his bad leg into account, Hedgewick lunged at Carlton, who instantly straightened and pulled out one pistol which he pointed at Hedgewick’s head.
The earl stopped as if he’d run into a wall, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. A gasp on the stairs informed Carlton that Regina was near. His heart pulsed with violent disdain, his mind recalling the startled look on his father’s face as he lay dying.
Carlton’s grip tightened on the pistol, and he smiled with deep satisfaction. The tension in the room had increased tenfold. He could sense the runners approaching and Seabrook trying to figure out how best to help his father. Carlton’s crew would be ready to stop them if necessary, so he ignored them.
“Tell me, ye bastard,” he drawled with every bit of contempt that he felt for the man now cowering before him, “are ye prepared to pay fer yer sins?”
Hedgwick’s left eye twitched. “I…I don’t know what you’re referring to.”
“A reminder then…” Carlton stepped toward Hedgewick until the barrel of his pistol pressed into the other man’s chest. Regina said something behind him, but he was too focused on what he was doing to listen. For years, he’d fantasized about this altercation. He’d imagined announcing Hedgewick’s crime for the entire world to hear and then planting a lead ball between his eyes. Carlton hesitated, aware that doing so would reveal who he was to his men. It would shatter the illusion he’d crafted and risk the wrath of the people who’d welcomed him into their midst.
And then there was Regina.
He took a deep breath. The least he could do was protect her from the truth. So he deliberately leaned close to Hedgewick’s ear and whispered, “I know what ye did, ye murderous scoundrel. I know that yer hands are tainted with the Duke of Windham’s blood.” He could feel Hedgewick’s body go rigid, could hear the sharp little inhale of breath and see the way his throat worked in response to the panic now stealing through him.
“You…you have the wrong man,” Hedgewick stammered.
Carlton clenched his jaw and fought to steady his hand. His whole body trembled in response to the rage pouring through him, while the pain he’d harbored for twenty years exploded inside his heart. This was the closest he’d been to Hedgewick since that terrible morning so long ago.
“I don’t think so,” Carlton hissed. He stepped back so he could appreciate the full effect of the terror in Hedgewick’s eyes as he aimed the pistol straight at his forehead.
“No.” A gentle hand settled upon his arm, the warmth of it driving away the cold anger and easing the heartache. His arm shook slightly beneath Regina’s touch, and then she spoke again, so soft he could not resist listening. “Please don’t do this. Whatever my father may have done, he doesn’t deserve to die.”
Frustration burned behind Carlton’s eyes. “I have to finish this,” he muttered. “I have no choice.”
“Of course you do.” Her hand moved to the pistol, the pressure she added there pushing it down and away from her father’s forehead. “You’ll hang otherwise, and I cannot allow that to happen.”
“Regina,” Seabrook said, no doubt hoping to warn his sister against interfering. “You shouldn’t have come here.”
“Let her be,” one of the runners said. “Whatever she’s doing, it looks like it’s working.”
Only because Carlton didn’t have the strength to become the man that she would despise forever. He’d thought he could do it but he had been wrong. When it came down to it, saving her from what he’d once suffered himself mattered more than avenging his father. But that didn’t make him feel like less of a failure when he finally lowered the pistol completely and accepted defeat. He’d had his chance to put his demons to rest, and he’d walked away because of a woman.
Not just any woman though. The bravest and most remarkable woman in the world.
“You saw him!” Hedgewick shouted as he leapt back. “He just tried to kill me. If he hadn’t been stopped, I would be dead right now. And he might yet accomplish his goal when no one is watching. I won’t be safe as long as he’s free.” He turned to the runners. “You must arrest him. For God’s sake he’s the Scoundrel of St. Giles! Heaven knows he deserves to be locked away behind bars.”
“Papa,” Regina said, applying a cautious tone. “Nothing happened. You’re safe now and—”
“This is your chance to put him away,” Hedgewick told the runners. “Let’s not forget that he’s also guilty of kidnapping, blackmail, and possibly rape!”
Regina gasped and recoiled from the earl. “He’s not. I’ll vouch for his decency, Papa, for his sense of honor.”
“After what just happened? Jesus, Regina, you are naïve. If you’ve developed feelings for him then it’s only because he manipulated you.”
“I have to agree,” one of the runners said.
Regina clasped hold of Carlton’s hand and squeezed it. “Marcus?”
Seabrook glanced around at the men who protected the law and then at the ones who were loyal to Carlton. He must have realized they weren’t going to put up a fight to protect him. He’d given very specific orders so they wouldn’t suffer because of his personal vendetta.
“I’m sorry,” Seabrook said as he looked back at his sister. He shook his head. “I’m so sorry.”
“What did he tell you?”
“What did who tell me?” Hedgewick asked while removing his hat and gloves once they were home.
“Guthrie.” Regina had helplessly watched as he’d been accused of kidnapping, issuing threats, and the intention to kill a peer, before being led away by the runners. It hadn’t mattered that she’d insisted she’d stayed with him willingly. Her father had simply insisted that Carlton had charmed her into compliance. MacNeil had not interfered, which was something that still baffled Regina.
“A more pertinent question is what were you doing there?” Hedgewick frowned while raising his eyebrows. “You were supposed to stay here. Or are you determined to cause a scandal? As it is we’ll be lucky if none of the two dozen men who were at The Black Swan mention your presence.”
“You might be dead right now if it wasn’t for Regina,” Marcus put in. He gave the butler the sort of look that quietly insisted on absolute discretion. Not that he would repeat anything he overheard. His respect for the trust they all placed in him was too great. As evidenced by his blank expression.
Hedgewick gave Regina a considering look. “Maybe.” His jaw tightened. “But you still defied me. Again.”
“I’m sorry, Papa. Truly.”
Hedgewick snorted. “I have to write your mother now and tell her that she must return. And then I will contact Windham to let him know you’ve changed your mind about Stokes. If we’re lucky, you might still marry him and then you’ll be his problem to deal with.”
“For God’s sake,” Marcus muttered while Regina stared at her father in disbelief. “You cannot be serious.”
“I’ve never been more so.” Hedgewick headed for his study while continuing to speak. “I trust you to make sure she doesn’t run off again. Keep an eye on your sister, Marcus. She’s already proved herself to be more independent minded than I’d have expected.”
Regina bristled. After everything that had happened, she was back to square one with her father still planning to force her into an unhappy marriage. Nothing had changed. And yet...
She followed her father and reached him right before he entered his study. “You didn’t answer my question.” He gave her an impatient look devoid of the affection he’d always bestowed on her. “What did Guthrie say to you?”
“Nothing of interest. Just threats.” He stepped inside the room and closed the door, shutting her out.
Regina frowned. She’d seen her father’s face drain of color and fear fill his eyes as Carlton spoke. Whatever he had told Hedgewick, it had terrified him and caused a slight tremor to affect his hands. It wasn’t until they’d returned home that he’d seemed to relax and regain his composure.
Pressing her lips together, she turned to find Marcus quietly watching her. “There’s something about today’s events that doesn’t make sense.” Casting a quick look at the study door, she moved away from it until she was standing close to her brother. “Guthrie wanted Papa to come find him. He wanted the opportunity to kill him. Which means that Papa must have done something truly awful, or at the very least he must have given Guthrie reason to think he did.” She knew this without even having to think about it. “Guthrie would never kill a man unless he believed he was doing the world a favor.”
“I worry that you’re trying to turn a criminal into a hero, Regina.” Marcus’s sea blue eyes gazed steadily into hers. “Considering the length of time you spent with him, I would not fault you for developing some sort of attachment to him. Especially not since he helped you and treated you well. But you mustn’t—”
“There’s something else.” Taking her brother by his hand, she led him into the library and closed the door so they could speak more privately. “I don’t think Guthrie is who we think him to be.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have the feeling he was born into privilege, just like us.” He’d told her his father had been an artist and she’d believed him. Although thinking back, he hadn’t exactly said that his father wasn’t an upstanding member of Society. He’d just steered the conversation away from the topic whenever she’d brought it up again. And then she’d gotten kidnapped and she’d forgotten all about uncovering his true identity. Partly because she’d been too distracted by him. “I saw a miniature of his father whom I judged to be an upper class gentleman based on his garments and the pearl-tipped cravat pin he wore for the portrait.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. He could have had an affair with a maid, gotten her with child, and sent the pair away, making Guthrie nothing more than a by-blow.”
“Yes, I know.” Regina crossed to one of the bookcases and let her gaze roam across the colorful leather bound spines on display. “I considered that as well, but there were other things hinting at an upper class upbringing. Like his speech.”
Marcus snorted. “I have to disagree with you there, Regina.”
“Ordinarily, yes, but there were a few rare moments when he sounded just like you and me or anyone else who’d been taught proper diction.” Her fingers trailed over the books, the delicate skin bumping slightly against the embossed gold lettering of the titles. Thinking out loud, she quietly said, “It was almost as if he was wearing a mask.”
“Regina.” Marcus’s voice was solid. “He wouldn’t have ended up in St. Giles if his parents were wealthy. He’d have had to have run away in order to do so an—”
“He did.” She glanced over her shoulder and saw disbelief etched clearly on Marcus’s face. Still she persisted, following the fragmented clues that were at her disposal. “He told me himself that he fled home after his parents died.”
“But that makes no sense at all. If what you suggest is true, he would have had a guardian.” Marcus shook his head and raised both hands in a gesture of incomprehension. “No child would deliberately choose to leave behind a comfortable home and live on the streets.”
“No. They wouldn’t.” And yet Carlton had. She paused, her hand on a book that she hoped would provide her with answers. Carlton and her father were somehow connected, she just couldn’t figure out how, even though she sensed she was awfully close. It felt as if she were missing one piece that remained beyond reach.
“And even if he had been born a peer, that doesn’t erase all the terrible things that he’s done. The man is a crime lord, Regina, no better than Bartholomew was.”
She pulled the book she’d found off the shelf and crossed to a nearby sofa. “You’re very wrong about that, Marcus. Bartholomew committed the vilest crimes. He preyed on the innocent for financial gain and there are people out there, eager to do the same.” Her jaw clamped tightly at the reminder of what had happened to her and of where she might be right now if Carlton hadn’t saved her. “But Guthrie’s different. He’s righteous and only goes after those who deserve it.”
“And who decides who those people are, Regina? Guthrie has taken the liberty of playing judge and executioner when there is a legal process designed to do that for us.”
“The authorities don’t care if a homeless woman or the child of a whore gets abused or goes missing. But Guthrie does. He’ll do what he can to help them, and he’ll punish those who deserve it, sometimes by taking their life but…to be honest, after what I’ve seen, I cannot blame him.”
Marcus stared at her in silence so long she was starting to think he’d lost his tongue. But then he muttered, “You’re smitten by him.” He blinked as if he couldn’t quite fathom that realization. “He assured me he hadn’t ruined you, that
your innocence remains intact, but Regina I have to ask… Did he…”
“No. He told you the truth.” She was grateful for the firmness with which she delivered that comment, for although it wasn’t a lie, she did not want her brother questioning her further about what had happened between her and Carlton. Eventually, something would betray her, whether it be the look in her eyes or the hitch of her voice or a flush coloring her cheeks.
Marcus let out a long breath and sat down beside her. “Debrett’s?” he asked in reference to the book she was cradling in her lap. “Do you honestly think you might find him in there?”
“It’s worth a try, isn’t it?” When he didn’t answer, she flipped the book open and began going through the pages, carefully studying the facts about each individual peer and their children.
“He won’t be mentioned if he’s a by-blow.”
“I know, but…” She thought back on the portrait. “If that were the case, then why would he have his father’s miniature?”
“I don’t know,” Marcus confessed. He came to sit beside her. “I’ll admit that it’s all very puzzling.”
She frowned. “There was something else. A red ribbon that looked like it might belong to a medal.”
“And Guthrie had this in his possession?”
“No. It was around his father’s neck in the portrait.” She looked at Marcus whose brow was now creased in thought.
“Medals aren’t worn on red ribbons about the neck, Regina. Only distinguished orders are.”
She stared back at her brother. “He’s a peer, Marcus. Or at least his father was.” Which meant…
“If Guthrie’s parents are really dead and it turns out he’s not illegitimate,” Marcus said, already voicing the thought she was having, “then that could mean he’s the heir to a title.”
Regina nodded. “How many aristocratic children do we know who’ve gone missing right after their father died?”
The Forgotten Duke Page 24
