Then there was the matter of her father. Her stomach sank. Her raging bull of a father was calling for Prescott to be hauled before the magistrate. Drawn and quartered, hanged, whipped until he collapsed.
Edwina rubbed her temple as a sudden piercing headache came upon her. She’d better think about keeping her lover’s head out of a noose, not daydream about shackling his leg in matrimony. Where was her usual good sense? A plan. She needed a plan. Mayhap a list would help.
Stepping over to the secretary, she pulled out a scrap of foolscap, and her writing instruments. She sat, readied, and…nothing came. Not a blessed word entered her mind. Like the foolscap before her, her mind was wretchedly blank. The only thing she could think of was how desperately she loved Prescott and one couldn’t make a list for that.
“Nay.” She shook her head, trying to clear it. She needed a list of…what? Things she loved about him? Admired him for? If she wrote it would her father read it and change his mind? She snorted, feeling desperate. Her father never changed his mind. The only thing that might help was if she threw herself on her father’s mercy, offered to end the affair to save Prescott’s neck…
The very thought of never seeing Prescott again, of never hearing his deep rumbling voice, never again enjoying his dry wit, never smelling his rich, musky scent…There would be no more watching him laugh with her dearest friends, no more touching his velvety skin or kissing his smooth lips or loving him. Never again to enjoy his charming company or feel that amazing sense of confidence that she experienced whenever he was near. Never to have that beautiful sensation of harmony when they touched, when they said the same thing at once or when they communicated without the need for words…
The thought of missing all that, of never again being with Prescott caused such heartache she didn’t know if she could breathe.
But to save his life…? To rescue him from the hangman’s noose? The whip…?
She shuddered. It was a devil’s bargain for sure, but she would do it, to spare the man she loved.
Grimacing, she slowly dipped her quill and wrote,
Matrimony. Then she crossed it out with a thick “x.”
Affair. Then she crossed it out with a thick “x.”
Nothing.
She stared at the page a long, miserable moment, wondering if she’d be able to endure it. Her heart felt leaden, her eyes burned with unshed tears.
A knock resounded on the door.
Instinctively, Edwina crumpled up the foolscap and shoved it into a drawer. “Come.”
“Edwina!” Ginny swept into the room, panting as if she’d run all the way from her rooms. She clutched a leather reticule to her chest, an odd thing to be carrying about the Kendrick manor.
Closing the door behind her, Ginny practically skipped across the carpet, her arthritic hip giving her a bit of a hop. “Oh, Edwina! I must tell you the most wonderful news!” The matron’s rosy-cheeked face was brimming with excitement. “I can hardly believe it!”
“So you’ve heard?”
“Heard what?”
“About Sir Lee being Prescott’s grandfather.”
Ginny’s pale blue eyes widened. “Why that’s wonderful!”
“If you hadn’t heard then…?”
Holding up the satchel, Ginny cried, “You’ll not believe what I found on my bed just moments ago!”
“Your reticule?”
“Don’t be silly!” Reaching into the bag, Ginny pulled out a packet of letters wrapped with a long, fox-colored ribbon. “My letters! To Gérardin!”
“But how…?”
Ginny shook her head with wonder. “I’ve no earthly idea. They were simply lying there with a note saying that I would no longer be bothered by that wretched blackmailer again. I didn’t receive any demands or make that five-hundred-pound payment! I don’t even know who left them!” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “It’s a miracle. My Judith is saved.”
Edwina wrapped her arms around her dear friend, hugging her close. “I’m so happy for you.”
“It’s all been such a terrible nightmare.” Pulling away, Ginny shook her head, wiping her eyes. “I almost can’t believe it’s over.”
“You need to burn those letters, Ginny, you know that.”
“I do.” Ginny stared at the packet of letters, her face wistful. “But I would very much like to read them once more…”
“I understand they mean a lot to you, but we have a chance now, before anyone else could possibly see them…”
Ginny grasped Edwina’s hand. “May I read them here? Will you stay with me? Then we will burn them together. Tonight. And hopefully Janelle and Prescott will join us. It would only be fitting.”
Edwina hesitated. Her father couldn’t do anything within the next half hour, could he? It was unlikely, especially since Lady Kendrick had promised to work upon him. She’d told Edwina that she would do her best to calm him down and dissuade him from acting in anger. Edwina didn’t have much confidence that Lady Kendrick could sway her father completely, but mayhap she could persuade him to not press charges? Then there wouldn’t be any devil’s bargain! She wouldn’t have to offer to give up Prescott.
Yes, Lady Kendrick needed time to convince Edwina’s father to settle down and consider his actions. There was no point in pressing the matter before then.
Edwina squeezed Ginny’s hand. “Of course I will stay while you read them.”
Ginny stepped over to the armchair, dropped her reticule and sat. Untying the fox-colored ribbon, she slowly unfolded the first letter and began to read. Her gaze grew dreamy, a secret smile on her lips.
Feeling like a voyeur, Edwina turned away and stared out the window, wondering what it must be like to have loved so deeply and yet to have been forced apart. Ginny seemed to have survived it. If Lady Kendrick failed, perhaps so could she? Would she and Prescott exchange letters? Reminisce over their time spent together?
Edwina’s heart skipped a beat. One of the reasons Ginny had begun her correspondence with Gérardin was to tell him about their child. Was it possible that she and Prescott…in their time together…?
A child would change everything.
Thank God she hadn’t gone to see her father yet!
If she was indeed with child, she couldn’t ever deny the babe its wonderful father. Any more than she could keep the news from Prescott, knowing deep in her heart that he would want to be the father he’d never had.
Oh, dear Lord…What am I to do?
A knock resounded on the door and Edwina’s eyes flew to Ginny’s. Ginny quickly stuffed the letters beneath her hip and only when they were all out of sight did Edwina call, “Come.”
Prescott opened the door and strode into the room, looking more relaxed, happier even, than Edwina had ever seen him. His broad forehead was smooth, his eyes bright and his lips lifted in a half smile.
Her heart skipped a beat and danced with that special joy whenever he was near.
She rushed over to him. “Are you all right?” He and Sir Lee had gone off to become reacquainted, now as grandfather and grandson.
Wrapping his arms around her, Prescott hugged her close. “Astoundingly, I’m doing well. Better than I ever thought I would under the circumstances.”
“I can’t believe how remarkably you’re handing this. If it were me, I’d be needing smelling salts every three minutes.”
“Rubbish.” He kissed her temple. “You’re hardier than you look. Don’t forget, I saw you standing up to the great Earl of Wootton-Barrett.” His brawny arms squeezed her tighter. “You were magnificent, defending me…it was inspiring.”
Pressing her nose into his shoulder, she murmured, “I was shaking in my shoes.”
“Still, you weren’t cowed.”
Pulling back, she met his eyes. “I’m so sorry how abominable he was to you.”
“Regardless, I shouldn’t have corked him.”
“You struck the Earl of Wootton-Barrett?” Ginny cried, standing.
“Ginny!” Presco
tt released Edwina, but then snaked his arm around her waist hugging her close. “My apologies, I didn’t see you there.”
“I was reading.” Holding up a packet tied with a fox-colored ribbon, she beamed. “My correspondence with Gérardin. Every last letter. Some beneficent soul left them on my bed with a note saying that I would be bothered no more.”
“Hmmm.” Prescott scratched his chin as an odd thought suddenly struck him. Sir Lee hadn’t known about Prescott, not until seeing him at the house party. So why had Sir Lee ventured to this house party when he’d been telling Prescott how much he hated leaving London? London was where the action was, he’d said. Unless the “action” had moved to the country for Sir Lee?
When Sir Lee had searched Prescott’s rooms, he’d done so with admirable expertise. If it hadn’t been for the bookmark in Prescott’s Bible, Prescott might never have known about the inspection. And now, knowing how affected Sir Lee had been by the discovery, Prescott had no doubt that in other circumstances he never would have been able to detect Sir Lee’s search. Sir Lee wasn’t quite as harmless as he’d like everyone to think…
Prescott pursed his lips, his ideas coalescing. Since the confrontation with Wootton-Barrett in the salon, Prescott and Sir Lee had sat in the garden trying to bridge an almost thirty-year gap. Then, about forty-five minutes ago the old gent had begged off, saying that he’d had too much excitement for the day and needed to rest. Prescott had remained behind to gather his thoughts.
“When were the letters returned, Ginny?” Prescott asked.
Ginny’s brow furrowed. “Um, it couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes ago. The maid was called downstairs and then sent to come get me. So whoever left them had the room to himself for a few moments.”
It seemed too much of a coincidence. Sir Lee hadn’t seemed taken aback in the least when mentioning the blackmail scheme. He’d said that he’d wanted to put himself “to good use” in his old age. Be on the side of good so he could sleep better at night. Edwina had wondered if anyone else at the house party was a victim of the blackmailer. They’d never considered that they might not be the only ones hunting the blackmailer.
Edwina looked up at him, her eyes concerned. “Is something bothering you, Prescott?”
“There you are!” Janelle rushed into the room looking frazzled. “Have you heard the news? Two Bow Street Runners just hauled off Mr. Todd, but they kept calling him Mr. Quince!”
“Mr. Todd?” Ginny gasped. “But I thought he was from Nottingham?”
Panting, Janelle fanned her face. “He was newly to London and no one checked in Nottingham to know for certain.”
“He moves in the very circles we were focusing on.” Edwina nodded. “And he was on our list.”
Janelle motioned for Edwina to stop talking. “But the officers kept calling him Mr. Quince! They said that Todd was an alias for Quince! A secret identity! But even more intriguing, these officers weren’t the Bow Street Runners we’d hired! They were two entirely different men!”
Ginny bit her thumbnail. “So you think these Bow Street Runners are the ones who returned my letters? How did they learn of the blackmail?”
“You have your letters back?” Janelle cried. “Even better!”
“Mayhap our supposition that there were other victims was true and they retained the police officers?” Edwina offered. But she shook her head, her gaze doubtful. “It makes sense, but if the letters are evidence, why would they return them?”
Prescott definitely wanted to have a word with his grandfather. Sir Lee was just the sort to “tidy up” on behalf of his friends, thank the heavens. Hugging Edwina’s waist, he nodded. “I’m sure all will be known in due time.” Once I speak with Sir Lee. “For now, let us celebrate the return of Ginny’s letters and Mr. Todd’s arrest.”
“We do have much to celebrate!” Janelle added, with a twinkle in her eye. “I’m so very glad for you about your grandfather. I always liked Sir Lee. A very agreeable man.”
Prescott tilted his head. “Not always, it seemed.”
“Have you forgiven him?” Edwina’s eyes searched his, the concern reflected therein warming his heart.
“I think so. I’m still upset, all is not forgotten, yet…I can’t seem to be angry with him. He’s suffered so much…” He shrugged. “I haven’t worked it all out yet. But I know, all will be well…eventually. I only wish…” A lump formed in his throat. “I only wish that Headmaster Dunn was alive to see it. He’d have been so very pleased…”
Janelle threw her arms in the air. “In all of the excitement, I almost forgot! I came to warn you!”
“Of what?”
“The Earl of Wootton-Barrett is heading this way! And he looks mad as hops!”
Chapter 34
Prescott tensed. He’d known this confrontation was inevitable, but he’d been hoping to spare Edwina.
Janelle waved her hands, agitated. “The earl’s nose is as big as a cantaloupe!”
Edwina gripped Prescott’s arm, her lovely face filled with anxiety. “I won’t let them arrest you. We’ll find a way to stop it…I’ll think of something…”
“I punched an earl, Edwina. He’s not exactly the kind of man to let that pass.” And certainly not one to let Prescott marry his daughter. Still…“Devanes are fighters,” he muttered under his breath.
“A bit too much of them.” Janelle wrung her hands. “What are we to do?”
Stuffing her letters into the reticule and snapping it shut, Ginny straightened. “Do you think Sir Lee might help us?”
We. Us. A warm feeling blossomed in Prescott’s chest and he suddenly smiled. “You ladies certainly know how to make a man feel part of your group.”
“Group?” Janelle cried. “You’re family!”
“We adore you, Prescott,” Ginny declared.
Edwina hugged him close. “We do.”
His heart skipped a beat. “Do you, Edwina? Truly?”
She looked up, her onyx eyes shimmering with tenderness. “I love you, Prescott. With all my heart.”
Joy shot through him. Could the gods have truly decided to shine so favorably upon him? “Really?”
“Yes. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you.” Pulling away to look up at him, Edwina swallowed, vulnerability and determination blazing in her lovely gaze. “We needn’t marry. We can stay just as we are. I want to be with you on whatever terms you’re willing to have me.”
“I might have something to say about that, child.” The door swung open wider and the Earl of Wootton-Barrett stood in the threshold. His flushed red face was marred by a nose swollen to twice its normal size.
He’d changed into a burgundy velvet coat, eggshell Marcella waistcoat, white L’Orientale neckcloth and ivory breeches. A red watch fob hung from his waist and he fiddled with it as he eyed the four of them, each in turn. His eyes were like fiery coals, filled with challenge, as if daring any of them to cross him.
Prescott tensed, pulling Edwina close. No matter her courage, she loved her father and feared losing him, as evidenced by the taut muscles beneath the palm of his hands.
She loves me! She truly loves me! He tempered his joy, knowing that this was a precarious moment, for Edwina, for their future, and possibly for his hide.
“What a pleasant surprise, your lordship.” Janelle dropped a quick curtsey, then stepped over to stand beside Prescott. “I didn’t know you were going to be joining our country party.”
Ginny moved beside Edwina and dipped, stating coolly, “Your lordship.”
Prescott peered behind the big man, wondering where the earl’s minions might be. Where were the police officers or at least a burly servant or two to haul him off?
The earl’s lips formed an ugly scowl and a long moment passed. Then another. The tension in the room was so thick, Prescott felt like he was breathing it like a vapor.
Wootton-Barrett’s hand clenched and unclenched. “If you would unhand my daughter, Mr. Devane. I would speak to her. Alone.”
<
br /> His grip tightened. “No. I’m not leaving her.”
Edwina pulled away from him. “Let me go, Prescott. I want to speak with my father.”
Reluctantly, he complied. “But I’m not leaving.”
“Please don’t.” Shooting Prescott a comforting glance, Edwina then turned to face Wootton-Barrett. Her shoulders were squared, her lovely face resolute, and her chin lifted. “It’s one thing to try to control my life, Father, but I will not permit you to hurt Prescott.”
Stepping forward, Edwina shook her head. “I don’t wish to cross you, but I will do everything in my power to fight you, tooth and nail, if you so much as harm a hair on his head.”
The earl’s eyes narrowed and he flinched as if pained. “You would renounce your family…everything…for him?”
“Renounce…?” Her voice caught. “I don’t want to, no, but…”
This was the moment where Prescott was supposed to step forward, declare his intention to give up Edwina to save her place in her family, help her avoid the tragic mistakes of his mother.
But he couldn’t.
There was no breath in his lungs for such a declaration, no selfless sacrifice pumping in his veins. He loved her. And, remarkably, she loved him. She truly loved him. He couldn’t give that up, not in a million years.
Raising her head, Edwina motioned to Prescott. “Here is a man who has cared for me when I lay ill, has championed me and my friends, has shown me how to forgive the unpardonable…He has taught me how to be the woman I want to be…”
Inhaling a deep breath, Edwina squared her shoulders. “I cannot stop you from rejecting him, or disowning me, but I will not forsake him. Not for you, not for anyone.”
Prescott’s heart swelled. Edwina was gloriously defiant, bold, beautiful and if he wasn’t already head over heels in love with her, he would be now.
The earl exhaled, his nose making a terrible whistling sound. “I’m sorry to hear that. You give me no choice then.”
Sari Robins - [Andersen Hall Orphanage] Page 28
