by Lucy Adams
Lady Madeline nodded slowly, the hope fading in her eyes and her lips pulling taut. She looked over Bridgette’s shoulder to where Bridgette assumed Lord Chesterfield was standing, her expression somewhat crestfallen.
“I am sorry,” Bridgette murmured, now wishing that she had not said a word — only for Lady Madeline to squeeze her hand, draw in a breath and give herself a slight shake.
“Not at all,” she said, firmly. “I am glad to know it. Thank you for being so honest with me, Bridgette.”
“You — you will not allow him to court you or any such thing now, I hope?” Bridgette asked, recalling the way that a spiral of fear had whirled its way through her simply by being in Lord Chesterfield’s presence. “Truly, I do not think it a wise connection.”
“No,” Lady Madeline answered, with a toss of her head. “No, indeed I shall not.” She drew in a long breath and gave Bridgette a small if not rather tight smile. “Your judgement is appreciated and I shall not turn from it. No, Lord Chesterfield shall not have any favor from me. I shall give my heart to someone who is more worthy of it, should the time come.” A laugh shook her frame and Bridgette marveled at how quickly Lady Madeline could throw off such a disappointment. “Then again, I am meant to be entirely against matrimony.”
“That is quite true,” Bridgette agreed, with a smile of her own. “Thank you for accepting my opinion, as hard as it must have been to hear.”
“I appreciate your candor,” Lady Madeline said, briskly. “Now, I can see that some of the guests are removing through to the next room, perhaps for a little dancing.” Her eyes lit up. “Should you like to attend?”
Bridgette nodded. “Very much,” she said, feeling a good deal more at ease now. Walking with her friend, she did not notice the way Lord Chesterfield watched them both depart, his eyes narrowing as they lingered on her, until she stepped into the next room and out of his sight.
Chapter Eight
Sebastian put his head in his hands and let out a groan of frustration. “It has been a long time since I have felt myself so confounded,” he muttered, barely lifting his head as he spoke. “I do not know what Miss Sarah wished to speak to me about, what she was afraid of and I dare not go back to Madame Bereford for fear that she will know, somehow that I know where Miss Sarah is at present.” He looked up and saw the surprise in one or two of the gentlemen’s faces.
“You do not truly understand the gravitas that comes over oneself when one is in the presence of Madame Bereford,” Lord Hearst said, gloomily. “Her eyes seem to pierce your very soul.”
A little relieved that someone, at least, seemed to understand what he meant, Sebastian let out another long breath. “Indeed,” he said, heavily. “Lord Hazelton’s death, thus far, is just as much of a puzzle as ever.” He cleared his throat and lifted his head a little more. “In addition, whilst I did not want Lady Callander involved in any further way, she now has Miss Sarah in her own townhouse. I need to ensure that she is protected.” He looked about him hopefully, seeing three or four gentlemen nodding.
“The house will need to be guarded at night,” Lord Watt said, as two of the four men lifted their hands. “I thank you, gentlemen.”
The other two men, who had not yet lifted their hands, put their heads together for a moment before agreeing that they also would relieve the first two men at some point, so that they did not exhaust themselves. Appreciative of the support of the League, Sebastian was about to say something more, only for a small scratch to come to the door. One of the gentlemen opened it a crack, before smiling and opening the door wider. Lady Callander stepped inside, looking a little lost.
“Lady Callander!” Lady Franks was on her feet in a moment, her hands outstretched. Sebastian could not help but smile as Lady Callander’s face lit up and she reached out for Lady Franks, her eyes shining with a wonderful light. “I am so glad to see you.”
“As I am you,” Lady Callander replied, embracing her friend. “I did not see you at the soiree last evening.”
Lady Franks shook her head. “I was not able to attend after all,” she said, with a warmth to her voice that Sebastian knew came from the knowledge that new life was growing within her womb. “But I shall explain all later.” Gesturing to the gentlemen and the other few ladies that had joined them, Lady Franks quickly introduced the gentlemen that Lady Callander was not acquainted with, before hurrying her into a chair.
“We were just discussing Miss Sarah,” Lord Watt said, quietly, his eyes on Lady Callander. “How is her condition?”
Sebastian hoped that Lady Callander would beam with delight and state that all was quite well, only for his hopes to be dashed as she dropped her head.
“She is not at all recovered,” she answered, quietly. “The dressing has been changed and there is no more bleeding, which is a relief, but she is still very pale and wane. She is drifting between unconsciousness and sleep and as yet, I have not been able to have any sort of conversation with her.” Sighing, she rubbed at her forehead, her eyes pained. “I have heard her moan and mumble but she says nothing comprehensible.”
Sighing, Sebastian’s lips twisted. “How unfortunate.”
“Indeed,” Lady Callander agreed. “We can only continue to pray that she will recover fully, in time.”
“And in the meantime, we are quite stuck,” Lord Hearst said, frowning, his voice filled with regret. “We cannot speak to Madame Bereford, we cannot even communicate with Miss Sarah and….” He looked around the room. “Has anyone found out anything about the gentlemen involved in shipping?”
There was a few murmurs and, after a moment or two, Lord Windsor stood up.
“Lord Cambleton, the baron from Scotland, has some involvement in such things,” he said, with a small shrug. “Except that, by all accounts, he has come to London to escape such matters for a time. I myself have not seen him in London before, but I have noticed his presence at a good many social events.”
“I believe Lord Banister has come to London for much the same reason,” Lord Fitzherbert added. “His estate is close to the sea so his business is also in such things as that. Not that he gains much enjoyment from it, I understand.”
“There is also —”
“What about Lord Chesterfield?”
Lady Callander’s voice broke through the group’s conversation, making every gentleman present turn to look at her. She clearly noticed this for, as they waited for her to continue, there was a hesitation there, a slight pause before she began to speak
“He….he spoke of it last evening,” Lady Callander continued, slowly. “I ought not to have been listening to his conversation but I was attempting to speak to him so that I might ascertain his character in order to help Lady….” Closing her eyes tightly, she shook her head. “That does not matter, of course.”
“What was it that he said, Lady Callander?” Lord Franks asked, as Lady Franks patted Lady Callander’s hand. “What did Lord Chesterfield say?”
Again, there came that hesitation, that slowness of manner that spoke of an uncertainty on Lady Callander’s part. Sebastian quickly realized that she did not know the truth as to why they were looking into the fellow.
“We have been told that spies are being brought in from other countries — enemies of our country — on ships,” he explained. “The ships are checked, of course, with the crew numbers counted and tallied but that does not seem to be making any discernible difference.”
He watched as Lady Callander’s eyes widened, her astonishment apparent.
Lady Callander blinked rapidly, her color fading to white.
“We cannot quite understand who is involved or why such things are occurring, only that —” Lord Franks went on.
“The cargo.”
Sebastian stared at Lady Callander, the room going so quiet that Sebastian could hear nothing but his own breathing. Lady Callander was staring at him directly, as though he ought to know precisely what she was speaking of.
“I’m sorry,” he said, carefu
lly. “What do you mean, Lady Callander. What cargo?”
She took in a long breath, closing her eyes and tilting her head back just a little as though such an action would help her recall exactly what she had seen and heard.
“Lord Chesterfield was talking to another gentleman,” she began, slowly. “I did not see his face and only heard his voice a little. Both he and Lord Chesterfield were speaking privately and very quietly but I certainly heard them mention the words ‘cargo’.”
A flurry of anticipation whirled around Sebastian’s chest. “What exactly do you remember, Lady Callander?” he asked, eager to put his hand out on her arm to encourage her to speak, but resisting the urge. “What did you hear from Lord Chesterfield? I tell you the truth when I say that it may very well be pertinent to what we are discussing.”
Lady Callander nodded, pressing her lips together for a moment, her eyes open. “The gentleman with Lord Chesterfield was worried about his cargo,” she said, slowly. “Lord Chesterfield reassured him, stating that it was not the first time he had been asked to bring such previous cargo. The gentlemen then said something about being anxious over a missing piece of cargo, which Lord Chesterfield reassured him that it would not linger for long.”
Sebastian frowned hard, letting the words wrap around his mind and considering them carefully.
“And you think that this ‘cargo’ might refer to our enemies being smuggled into the county?” Sebastian asked, before anyone else could speak. “And that the one that is being worried over might be — ”
“Miss Sarah, yes!” Lady Callander interjected before she could stop herself. “I am a little concerned for her safety.”
As am I for yours, Sebastian thought to himself, grimly. He looked around at the other gentlemen, who were now all glancing at each other with equal looks of concern, the very same concern that was building in his own heart.
“We shall have to find proof,” one gentleman said, although Sebastian did not look up from where he had pinned his gaze to the floor, trying to focus his thoughts. “We must know whether or not Lord Chesterfield is the gentleman responsible.”
Lord Windsor nodded. “We cannot simply board his boat whenever it arrives, however,” he said, bluntly. “We may be many but there are more ruffians and the like at the docks. We are easily outnumbered.”
“And brute force will not win us that battle,” Sebastian agreed, still frowning hard. “Then we must find another way to do so.”
Lady Callander cleared her throat lightly and everyone looked up. “I do not want to use her ill but my friend, Lady Madeline, is being pursued by Lord Chesterfield,” she said, “even though she has decided to refuse his attentions.”
Every single eye was on her in a moment and Sebastian could not help but smile at the way she blushed.
“Lady Madeline?” Lord Lexington murmured, rubbing his chin with one long finger. “She is daughter to the Earl of Hamilton, no?”
“Yes, she is,” Lady Callander replied, her cheeks still a little flushed. “I will confess to you that she and I have had much of the same feeling as regards gentlemen pursuing her simply because of her fortune and title, and whilst she appeared to be entirely against Lord Chesterfield initially, she did want me to converse with him so that I might give my opinion of him to her.”
Sebastian lifted one eyebrow, a little surprised that Lady Madeline had asked such a thing of Lady Callander, only to realize that given her wisdom, her quiet grace and her gentle consideration, she was the perfect person to do such a thing. Little wonder that Lady Madeline had gone to her! There was something about Lady Callander that made those about her want to go to her, to speak to her, to open their vulnerable hearts to her, and perhaps in this case, it would prove to be to the League’s advantage.
“Might we ask what your opinion was?”
Lady Callander let out a small breath, squaring her shoulders as she did so. “I do not want to insult anyone, if they are well acquainted with Lord Chesterfield, but I will be truthful and state that I found him quite changeable indeed.” Her lips flattened for a moment. “He appears flirtatious, jolly and quite likeable, but when he spoke to me — after he had finished speaking to this other gentleman — he was rude and obnoxious. Thus, I told Lady Madeline my honest opinion and she has since decided against him.”
Sebastian frowned hard, feeling himself a little regretful at such a decision. Whilst he well understood it, it meant that the League would not be able to use the relationship to their advantage.
“Might I ask,” Lady Watt asked, “if Lady Madeline has informed Lord Chesterfield of such a thing as yet?”
“No, she has not,” Lady Callander answered, looking at her. “Although I am sure she will give him quite a set down when the time comes.”
A quiet ripple of laughter ran around the group and Lady Callander’s cheeks flushed red again.
“Then might we not request Lady Madeline’s assistance?” Lady Watt suggested, looking around the group. “She may not be best pleased to do so, but it might provide us with the information that we require.”
Silence filled the room for a long time, as each of those present considered this. Sebastian recognized that there was a danger in such a suggestion, for to speak to Lady Madeline openly, they would have to inform her of what they now suspected. This might lead to a good many questions about why they had such an involvement in that particular matter, or how they had come to know of Lord Chesterfield’s involvement. Lady Madeline, given that she was well known to be rather outspoken for a lady of quality, would not hesitate to demand certain answers to things!
“I could speak to her, certainly,” Lady Callander said, shattering the silence, although there was a slight hesitation to her words. “I am not certain, however, that she will simply do so without some sort of explanation.”
“That is my concern also,” Sebastian agreed, quickly, seeing the flash of relief in Lady Callander’s eyes. “We do not want to involve her too deeply.”
Lord Watt took in a long breath and nodded slowly. “Do you think, Lady Callander, that you could speak to Lady Madeline and beg of her to entertain Lord Chesterfield’s intentions for a little longer?”
Lady Callander held Lord Watt’s gaze. “I think I could, yes,” she said, softly. “But I will have to give her some sort of explanation as to why.”
“Then do so,” Lord Watt said, calmly. “We trust your discernment, Lady Callander.”
“I greatly appreciate your considerations,” Lady Callander replied. “I —”
She was interrupted by a knock at the door. Sebastian rose to open it, a little wary just in case it was something or someone untoward.
It was no-one more than the butler.
“I do apologize,” the butler said, coming into the room and making directly for Lady Callander. “Lady Callander, an urgent note came for you.”
Lady Callander took it at once with a murmur of thanks, popping open the seal. She read it quickly, and then rose at once. Her eyes fixed straight to his, and Sebastian felt his breath catch, his worry rising almost at once.
“It is from the nurse I hired to take care of Miss Sarah,” she said, softly. “The doctor has been. He thinks she is worse.” Her skirts rustled as she turned to glance at Lord Watt. “I must go to her at once.”
“But of course.” Lord Watt looked at Sebastian, who nodded in understanding, coming to the door with Lady Callander.
“I will come with you,” he said, quietly, as Lady Callander looked up at him, her beautiful eyes whispering with concern. “If, that is, you would wish for my company?”
She nodded, her lips pressed together. “I thank you,” she said, turning back for just a moment to bob a curtsy, before hurrying out of the door. Sebastian went with her at once, growing more and more anxious with every moment. If Miss Sarah was to die, then whatever she had been so afraid of would die with her. Lord Hazelton’s death might never be solved. It all might become a terrible muddle with no clear way out.
&n
bsp; “I fear our prayers are yet to be answered, Lady Callander,” he murmured, as they hurried to the front door. “What are we do to?”
She glanced up at him, a small, sad smile on her face. “We should pray a little more,” she said, with a heavy sigh. “For what else is there for us to do?”
It was very late indeed before Sebastian felt himself able to close his eyes and rest. Miss Sarah had been tossing and turning in the depths of a fever for a good many hours and Lady Callander, being quite exhausted, had been sent to bed by both himself and by the nurse, with a promise that he would remain by Miss Sarah’s side and alert her should things change. He had not done anything particular to help, for the nurse appeared to know precisely what she was doing, but it had been a comfort to Lady Callander for him to be within her house at Miss Sarah’s bed, and so he had been glad to stay.
He could not say what it was that woke him. The house was quiet and the nurse was dozing next to Miss Sarah. For a moment, he thought that Miss Sarah had stopped breathing, his hands grasping the arms of the chair as he pushed his stiff frame out from the chair, only to see her take in a deep breath. Was it the fact that she was no longer in the depths of delirium that had woken him? Sebastian let out a long breath, dropping his head for a moment and letting his sore neck stretch out a little more. It had been awkward to fall asleep where he sat but for the sake of Lady Callander, as well as for Miss Sarah, he had been contented to do so.
