by Darcy Burke
Sevrin clasped his shoulder. “It’s all right. I’ll take care of her. And I’ll send a note to your brother.”
It was more than Ethan could hope for. Far more than he likely deserved. He turned to Teague, hating that the man would see this as a victory. “I’ll go, but I promise to disappoint you. I’ll prove my innocence.”
Teague nodded at Lewis, who went to one of their horses and came back with a pair of shackles. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “How could this possibly disappoint me?”
“Is that really necessary?” Sevrin asked. “He said he’ll go with you.”
Teague’s glower didn’t move from Ethan. “I don’t trust him.”
Sevrin moved toward Lewis. “You can’t mean to keep him locked up for several days. That’s brutal. Ja—Locke,” he corrected, “tell them you won’t run.”
“I won’t run.” He looked at Sevrin. “Thank you. You’ll bring Audrey?”
Sevrin nodded. “We’ll figure this out. Don’t run.”
Teague scoffed. “You don’t trust him either.”
Sevrin turned to him. “No, I’m trying to make him understand that he can trust me, that he can rely on someone. I don’t think he knows how to do that.”
It seemed Ethan had a friend at last. He only hoped he’d be around long enough to appreciate it. No, he wouldn’t think like that. He would prove his innocence. He simply couldn’t contemplate the alternative.
Sevrin looked at the pair of horses they had tied outside the inn. “How are you transporting him?”
“We’ll get a cart and I’ll drive. I’ll arrange to have my mount returned to London,” Teague said.
“Why don’t you come back to Beckwith with us?” Sevrin said. “I’ll provide your transportation and you can leave in the morning.”
Ethan wanted to hug Sevrin, or at least thank him profusely.
Teague shook his head. “I want to get back to London as quickly as possible.”
“Then let me ride a horse,” Ethan said, hating the idea of being confined to a cart for the next five or six days. “I won’t bolt. And we’ll get back much faster.”
Teague shook his head. “No. We’ll find something here in town.”
Sevrin inclined his head toward Ethan. “I can procure something comfortable.”
In a short while, Sevrin had obtained a curricle with a single horse and gave Teague instructions to change the horse once a day. Teague wasn’t a particularly good driver, but though he hadn’t shackled Ethan’s hands, he also refused to let him take the reins. They rode out together, with Lewis traveling on horseback beside them. Sevrin had agreed to bring Teague’s mount back to London.
Ethan looked back at Sevrin and tried to find a thread of hope. But it was far easier to believe that his dreams for a happy future had just gone up in flames.
IT WAS LATE afternoon before Audrey and Philippa returned to Beckwith. They’d spent a productive day gathering supplies for her and Ethan’s trip to Guernsey. She’d purchased some clothing, but it would require alteration once they arrived at their destination. She wondered what they would do there and looked forward to discussing it with Ethan. Hopefully, he would’ve worked out their transportation as well as how to obtain his money from London so they would have a means to live.
Philippa had quizzed her about why she’d changed her mind and Audrey had explained that Ethan was indeed trying to change and that all he really needed was for someone to have faith in him—and she did.
“How long will you stay in Guernsey?” Philippa asked as the coach came to a stop in Beckwith’s drive.
“I have no idea.” Nor did she particularly care. She was just happy to have the chance to start a life with the man she loved. “You and Sevrin must visit us.” The voyage wasn’t that long.
Ned, who had accompanied them on their errands, helped them from the coach.
The front door of the house opened and Sevrin stalked toward them, his face a dark mask. Audrey’s stomach fell straight through her toes. “What is it?” she breathed. But the absence of Ethan told her all that really mattered: He was gone.
“Come inside.”
“No,” Philippa said. “Tell her now. Did he leave?”
“Yes, but not of his own accord. Bow Street found him.” Sevrin looked to Audrey. “He didn’t want to leave without seeing you, but he wasn’t given a choice.”
Part of her was glad he would have the opportunity to prove his innocence, but the rest of her was devastated their plans had been ruined. There was always a chance he would be found guilty . . . She straightened and blinked against sudden tears.
She walked toward the house. “When can we leave?”
“Tomorrow,” Sevrin said, trailing behind her.
She paused at the door, wanting to protest, but knew it was pointless to depart today. They would barely have enough light to make it back to Truro, let alone anywhere on the way to London. She nodded as defeat seeped into her bones. No. She’d find a way to save him from hanging. He said he hadn’t done it, and she believed him.
Sevrin and Philippa followed her inside. She removed her gloves and bonnet with shaking hands. “I know you don’t have much faith in Ethan, if any, but he’s innocent of this crime.”
“What do you know of it?” Sevrin asked.
Audrey fought the embarrassment that rose to her cheeks. She hated that she didn’t know much of anything. “He said he was innocent and I believe him.”
Philippa gave her a sad look. “I hope you’re not wrong to place your trust in him.”
“He told me the same thing,” Sevrin said, leading them into the hall where he rang for refreshment. “He said he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Lockwood House, to be exact.” Sevrin glanced at Philippa. Lockwood House held special meaning for them.
And maybe it did for Audrey too . . . Her mind turned. This murder had to have happened the night they’d left London. It was why he’d fled. She’d been at Lockwood House that night.
It had been an odd evening, unlike any of the others she’d spent there. She’d been in the card room watching the hazard table when a footman had come in from the terrace. A few moments later, Lord Lockwood had gone out onto the terrace and shortly thereafter another man had followed him. There had been an urgency and tension to all of their movements. She’d grown nervous. Well, more nervous than sneaking into Lockwood House typically made her, and she’d departed quickly. But the important thing was that she’d been there.
She knew what she had to do and she didn’t hesitate. “I was at Lockwood House that night. I know what happened.”
Sevrin snapped his gaze to her. “You were?”
Philippa was also staring at her. “Audrey, what were you doing there?”
Audrey fought the blush that rose up her neck. “After you made it seem so easy to get in, I decided to try it for myself. I went once in a face-covering mask.” But she’d garnered too much attention from the attendees. People inviting her to do things she could scarcely imagine. “After that, I went dressed as a gentleman.”
Philippa blinked. Then she smiled and shook her head. “Shocking.”
“Did you see the murder?” Sevrin asked, his voice heavy with concern. “Can you identify the man who killed Wolverton?”
The Marquess of Wolverton had been the one killed? No wonder Bow Street had followed Ethan to the end of England. One didn’t kill a peer and get away with it. Not that he’d done it, but Bow Street thought he had. “I can. It wasn’t Ethan.”
“I don’t understand.” Philippa crossed her arms over her chest. “Why wouldn’t you have gone back to London together if you could prove his innocence?”
Audrey exhaled. She’d have to tell them the truth—or at least part of it. “We didn’t discuss the specifics of what he’d done. I didn’t realize who he was accused of murdering until now.”
But how she wished they had. If he’d been honest with her, she could’ve told him she’d been there, that she would give the testimony
that would save him from hanging. Her neck chilled. If she’d been honest with him about why she’d been dressed as a gentleman, he would’ve realized she was there that night and maybe he would’ve told her his truth. They’d both been foolish, and now they were paying the price.
“You didn’t really see anything, did you?” Sevrin asked quietly.
“I saw enough. And I was there. I’ll be able to prove it. I won a large sum of money at hazard.” Which she and Ethan had spent on their travels.
Philippa gasped. “Audrey!”
Sevrin moved toward Audrey and pinned her with a serious stare. “Ethan says Gin Jimmy killed Wolverton. He was dressed in Lockwood livery.”
Audrey nodded slowly. “I saw him leaving the terrace.” She recalled Lord Lockwood and the man—now that she thought about it, she was sure that had been Teague, the Bow Street Runner—had gone onto the terrace. “Was Wolverton killed on the terrace?”
“Yes.”
Audrey’s heart sang. She hadn’t seen Gin Jimmy commit the murder, but she absolutely believed he had. “I’m going to say I saw Gin Jimmy kill Wolverton.”
Philippa came to her side and touched her arm. “You’re going to lie?”
She’d do that and more. “I’ll do whatever is necessary to save the man I love.”
Audrey barely slept that night and finally gave up trying just before sunrise. She dressed and went downstairs just as the sun was creeping over the horizon. Where was Ethan? Was he sleeping? Was he as distraught as her? Was he well?
Her heart clenched and she fought to take a deep breath. She went through the solar to a small room that led to the back terrace. She grabbed a bonnet and a wrap hanging from a hook and went out into the cool morning. Sea mist dampened her cheeks as she awkwardly tied the ribbon beneath her chin. The wrap was large and soft, something Mrs. Gates had knitted, Philippa had told her. It was also warm and comforting. She tried to imagine Ethan’s arms around her in place of it.
She was anxious to leave. Sevrin had promised they would depart early, but until they were actually on the road moving toward London, she wouldn’t relax. Hell, she probably wouldn’t even relax then. Listen to her, swearing. She smiled, missing Ethan and his foul but delectable mouth.
She walked through the yard to where there was a gate in the wall. Philippa had told her it led to a path that wound along the cliff side and then down to the beach. Audrey had hoped she and Ethan could walk to the beach together before they left for Guernsey. Now, alone, she went to the edge and looked out at the waves. Waves she ought to have been riding to her new life. With Ethan.
They could still have that life. He wouldn’t hang before she got to London—she wasn’t even a full day behind him. She’d tell her story, and he’d be freed. Maybe Bow Street would even apprehend Gin Jimmy, which would solve that problem too. Free from pursuit, they could stay in London; he could be close to his brother. But what sort of life would they have? He’d been marginally accepted as the curious long-lost brother of the scandalous and allegedly mad Lord Lockwood, but once the ton became aware of his criminal background, he’d be ostracized. And her reputation, such as it was, had to be ruined by now.
It didn’t matter to her where they lived, so long as they were together.
The breeze rustled the grass at her feet and the shrubbery dotting the cliff side. It was a bit noisy, but soothingly so. She could imagine living here, actually.
When the hands grabbed her arms, she inhaled sharply. When the palm came over her mouth, she jumped. When the voice hissed in her ear, “Don’t say nothin’ or we’ll just save ourselves the trouble o’ haulin’ ye back to London and slit yer throat right ’ere,” her stomach curled in on itself and her knees gave out.
The smell of unwashed flesh overcame the soft, fresh sea air and filled her nose until she thought she might pass out. She turned her head to see the assailant to her right. He was a bit shorter than her, with greasy black hair and a pockmarked face. The man on her left was taller with a short crop of sandy hair and small, vicious eyes. His lips spread in a nasty grin. “I’m Perkins and that’s Bird. If ye keep yer mouth shut and yer hands to yerself, ye’ll make it to London in one piece. Can ye do that?”
She nodded. Bird’s hand loosened over her mouth, but both men kept a tight hold on her arms. “Do you work for Gin Jimmy?”
Perkins’ grin widened. “We do.”
Her knees shook. How could she help Ethan if she was Gin Jimmy’s captive? And would she be just a captive? “What are you going to do with me?”
“Gin Jimmy wants ye,” Perkins said. “He wanted yer man too, but that damned Runner got to ’im first. No matter, Jimmy’ll get him one way or another.”
They knew Ethan had gone with Teague. And they wanted her anyway. Which had to mean they planned to use her to lure Ethan into some sort of trap where Gin Jimmy could exact his revenge. Audrey lifted her chin. “He’s in custody, and I’m the only person who can free him.”
The criminals exchanged looks and then laughed. “Ye don’t know Gin Jimmy!” Bird cackled. “Yer man’ll get out and come right for ye.”
Perkins sobered and gave her a hard look. “Time to go. Remember, don’t scream or do nothin’ else to draw attention. I’d hate for ye to get to London in more than one piece.”
Audrey’s blood ran colder than the Thames in winter. As they dragged her toward their pair of horses, she wondered how she was going to endure the journey to London. She quickly realized that was only the beginning of this nightmare.
Chapter Seventeen
ETHAN LAY ON his bed in his basement cell at Bow Street and stared at the ceiling. Two other prisoners lay on their beds, to which they were each shackled. Ethan had spent the last night the same as the previous five: frantic with worry about Audrey.
Was she well? Was she on her way to London? Did she even want to come to London now that he’d been arrested?
The door opened and Teague walked into the windowless room. He was a large, beefy man, which made the low ceiling seem even lower.
“Sleep well?” Teague asked, though his sarcastic tone said he didn’t actually give a damn.
Ethan sat up. “Let’s get this over with.”
Teague gazed at him with stark superiority. “In a hurry to get to Newgate?”
Which is where he’d go to await trial if the magistrates found the evidence against Ethan sufficient. Teague unlocked the shackle around Ethan’s ankle.
Ethan massaged his lower leg before drawing his boots on. “Has my brother arrived?”
“He is, in fact, waiting in the courtroom. Carlyle, too.” Teague said the last with a tone of irritation.
Carlyle had come? Ethan didn’t know if he was friend or foe. Ethan had saved his life, but Carlyle had made no secret of the fact that if he had to choose between Ethan and the law, the law would always win out. Perhaps Jason had convinced him to come, but Ethan didn’t know why.
“I’ve waited a long time for this day,” Teague said slowly, deliberately. “But I won’t truly celebrate until the hood is placed over your head and you’re swinging from the rope.”
Ethan understood the man’s anger and sadness over the loss of his sister, as well as he understood the need for revenge. However, at no time in the long years in which he’d hated his brother had he wished for Jason’s demise. He only wanted him to feel the pain of loneliness Ethan had endured. “It’s a dangerous thing to want another man’s death.”
Teague’s head snapped up. “As if you haven’t wanted that.”
Ethan stood. “I have, but I’ve only killed when I had to, for my own survival. We’re human, Teague. It’s the one thing we fight for from the moment we enter this godforsaken world.”
Teague was quiet a long moment. “I’m a man of the law. I want you to pay the price for what you’ve done—and that’s hanging.” He moved toward Ethan, holding his gaze as his eyes narrowed. “Yes, you’ve survived. But you have to live with your actions. How do you do that?”
Ethan allowed the remorse and regret he worked so hard to repress wash over him like a cleansing wave. Only he didn’t feel clean. He’d never feel clean. “Not very well, I’m afraid. Do I look as if I’m living a dream life?”
In truth, he’d been so close. Closer than he’d ever imagined. But Teague only reminded him that he didn’t deserve it. And maybe that’s why it hadn’t come to pass.
Teague opened the door and held it open for him. “Let’s go.”
Ethan picked up his coat from the bed and shrugged into its wrinkled folds. He was a rumpled mess from traveling so many days, but there was nothing he could do about it save knot his cravat the best he could, which he’d done earlier.
He paused beside Teague and looked him in the eye. “I didn’t do this.”
Teague bared his teeth. “I don’t believe you.” He jerked his head toward the door.
Ethan kept his head up as he preceded Teague from the cell. They went upstairs to the ground floor and made their way to the courtroom.
Several people stood about the room. They were prosecutors or witnesses, perhaps even spectators who’d heard Gin Jimmy’s closest ally was appearing today. Or, they’d learned Mr. Ethan Locke wasn’t all he’d purported to be.
Ethan stepped over the threshold and looked for his brother. Relief sagged through him when he saw him standing near the dock. Jason pivoted toward him, the nasty scar Ethan had caused standing out on his left cheek. Ethan suppressed a wave of self-loathing. He couldn’t indulge any unnecessary emotion today. Everything inside him needed to be directed to gaining his freedom.
Ethan recognized Carlyle standing beside Jason, but there were two other men with them.
Carlyle gave Ethan a quick nod and gestured to a thickset fellow. “Allow me to introduce my friend, the solicitor Jeremy Bates. He’s brought along a colleague to stand with you today. Lockwood has apprised him of the situation.”
The fourth man, a young, slender gentleman, inclined his head toward Ethan. “Mr. Harworth at your service. Shall we proceed?” He gestured for Ethan to precede him up to the raised dock against the wall on the right side of the room. The magistrates’ table was opposite, with the well of the court between them. This is where witnesses gave their testimony and where Teague took himself. Jason and Carlyle joined him in the well.
