The Rakehell Regency Romance Collection 6

by MacMurrough, Sorcha

  Sidmouth gaped at her shapely bare legs, her clothing, or lack thereof, and shook his head. "Then God help us all."

  "I shall give her all of your regards. Except you, Lord Castlereagh. I feel certain there are all sorts of interesting people of various persuasions she could introduce you to, but she’s a bit particular about whom she associates with these days."

  "Will she receive me?" Sebastian asked with a grin.

  "Of course. She’s never blamed Philip for the way he had to earn a living. She just can’t abide people who swive others for sheer spite, or because they’re so bestial they can’t contain themselves."

  With one last withering look at Castlereagh she moved to the door, leaving the government ministers agog.

  "Round two to you, my dear," Alistair laughed, giving her a wink.

  Miranda curtsied to him. Then she looked at Philip and Sebastian. "Let’s get our clothes back on and get out of here. We need to get to Bedlam, quickly."

  Philip looked around and gave an expressive roll of his eyes. "I think we’ve already been. But it’s nearly over now."

  "Yes, thank God. The past can’t hurt us any longer." She gave Sebastian and encouraging smile, but noticed he didn’t return it.

  "For God's sake, stop them!" Castlereagh howled.

  Sidmouth look at each one of them, and shook his head. "Stop whom? I see nothing, remember? And if you want it to stay that way, I suggest you close your mouth and open your ears to listen to what I have to say as soon as these ministers depart. Thank you, gentleman, Madame. Grant, you got what you came for, now go. And remember, I know where you all live."

  "And I know where you live," the barrister rejoined coolly. "Tell your servants to lock your doors, old man, for your day will come soon enough as well if you don't mend your ways and start thinking more about the people and less about your own power and position."

  "How dare--"

  "I dare because of the men you killed in the Cato Street Conspiracy, and how you nearly killed two decent peers of the realm simply because they disagree with your politics." He tidied the folders on the desk ostentatiously less than two inches from Castlereagh's head.

  "I dare because I am an officer of the court, sworn to uphold the law, and you think you are a law unto yourself. Finally, I dare because I don't sneak around in the dark shadows, blackmailing, murdering with impunity. You nearly killed me and Philip as well, and his whole family, just because he worked for me and you wanted to be sure that I couldn't do anything to help the poor buggers that you set up. Well, it stops now, Sidmouth. No more. We Rakehells will never give up without a fight. And this woman here is worth a hundred of you."

  Looking around now to check that see all his companions were dressed once more, he set Miranda's wig aright and they sauntered out the door together, leaving in their wake a palpable silence which spoke volumes.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Once in their carriage, which had been waiting for them around the corner, they congratulated themselves on how well it had gone, and looked over their bounty from the visit to Castlereagh.

  Miranda was a bit regretful over having now got Sebastian into the line of fire, for since she was still alive and Sebastian had been party to her plot, it was all too clear where his loyalties lay and what Castlereagh might try to do to him to get even was anyone's guess. Still, she had no time to worry about it now, not when they were hot on the trail of Simon at last.

  When they got to Bedlam a short time later, they heard the same story George had heard when he had been on his own quest to find the Earl of Oxnard's mad wife Lucinda. The man in question was gone.

  By all accounts, he was a dangerous dark-haired man wanted for murder, and had escaped in the company of several whores, leaving a dead man and dead kitten behind in the two adjoining cells.

  "A dead cat? And man? What day was this?" she asked, wide-eyed.

  The guard told them.

  Miranda gasped. "That was the day after we went to Simpson’s and George ran out to chase Edwards the spy. A dead kitten. And man." She shook her head in wonder.

  "Aye, one of our best guards. Found him in one of the cells, with right good spread on a tray next to him. Took us a while to find him, he looked like he was sleeping. When we moved the bed to clean up the place, we found a bloody great hole in the plaster, knocked right into the next room."

  The four looked at each other in silence. Then Sebastian mouthed one simple word: "Poison."

  She nodded.

  "So he got out of his cell into the adjoining one?

  "Aye, and took the lady in there too. They were both gone, leaving only the dead kitten."

  "I see. But you said one woman. Surely there would have been more. You said whore too."

  "Oh, aye. I heard one name. Clarissa. But no whore uses her right name."

  Her brows lifted. "I see. A whore went with him. So what of the woman in the cell?"

  "Gone too."

  "With the whore?"

  He nodded. "Aye, the blond, the dark haired whore, and the sister."

  "The woman in the cell was a blond, you say."

  Sebastian was now very still and silent. She could see from his stance that the news was no surprise to him, and wondered once again if he had been disloyal to George all along for reasons she could only begin to guess at.

  "Aye, she had a lovely red-headed sister. Came to visit every day. Or was it two sisters."

  "So he left in the company of three women, a blond, a red-head and a dark-haired woman."

  "Aye, that's right, Miss. Three in all."

  Miranda nodded. "I see. Thank you." She handed him some coins and departed with her companions. Seated in the carriage once more, they reviewed the peculiar jumble of information.

  "So the mad woman was being tended by a sane sister, and somehow the man in the next cell did what? Attacked her?"

  She shook his head. "No, I don't think so. He could never have dug such a large whole without discovery, nor forced three women to all go with him."

  "What, then?"

  "Hmm. Obviously the red-haired sister was kind and compassionate, and pretty brave to come to a place like this to help her sister. So if not force, then it must have been kindness. They must have met in some way and he managed to convince her that he wasn’t mad. So she helped him get away."

  "But why even believe him?" Philip wondered aloud.

  Miranda guessed, "Over time, she would have come to see he made sense. So let’s face it, would you leave someone you thought was sane in a hell hole like that?"

  "No, I wouldn’t," Philip said firmly, shivering.

  "Nor I," Sebastian said with a shake of his head. She noticed his eyes still had a faraway look, as though trying to recollect something.

  "No, neither would I," Alistair agreed. "But if she were a decent, respectable woman—"

  "She’d run a mile," Philip said with a shake of her head.

  "She has to be a good woman to have looked after her sister in so vile a place. As to respectability, that's just a way to herd people into doing whatever you want, I find. Hmm. I wonder...." She paused, biting her lip.

  "What is it?"

  "Just something at the back of my mind. No, it’s gone now," she said with a shake of her head. "It’s probably nothing. Anyway, we need to get back before George arrives home and starts to wonder where we all are."

  "Who’s going to tell him?" Alistair asked.

  "Sebastian and I," Miranda said firmly. "Remember, not one word about Castlereagh."

  Sebastian raised his hands. He looked as grim as she had ever seen him. "Not one word will ever pass my lips."

  Miranda sighed. "Make sure nothing but food and drink do from now on."

  "Believe me, I’ll die a celibate before I ever go through what I have for the past few years ever again," he said with a shiver.

  "Oh, I don’t know," Philip said with a laugh as he helped Miranda out of the carriage. "I can think of a few comely wenches who might change your
mind."

  Sebastian shook his head. "Only one, and she’s taken."

  He was looking directly at Miranda, and she blushed profusely. "Sebastian, I’m really—"

  "Don’t say it. George deserves you. He adores you, the very breath from your body."

  She patted him on the shoulder. "Your turn will come one day, I’m sure."

  Sebastian shrugged and sighed. "The question is, do I deserve it?"

  She was still struggling to make sense of all she had learned, and shrugged. "We must work to deserve it. But let's worry about that later, when we've found Simon, eh?"

  "I'll do my best to try. It's not much in the way of repaying George for all his friendship for me and Viola all these years, but it's a start."

  "Aye, and at least it's not betrayal," she said with a pointed look.

  "Sometimes you have to put down a suffering animal in order to ease its misery," he said tightly.

  She stiffened and her low whisper lashed out like a whip. "And sometimes you can try to heal it. We none of us have any right to play God."

  "No, you're right, of course. But Castlereagh--"

  "Wanted me dead, I know, and you to do it," she said in a low tone as she stepped into the foyer. "So I thank you for sparing me the night of the fire, and helping to save the theatre. I also thank you for your help today. But I saw the look on your face when he mentioned the blond woman. So if there's anything you need to tell me or George, you'd better do it now. Because if I find out you've been playing George false again, you'll find yourself looking down the pistol you gave me and I won't have any qualms about killing you the way I did Hugo."

  "I know. And if I betray you, I'll certainly deserve it. But that's not what this is about. It's just, I'm not sure. All I know is that we have to find that woman, before it's too late."

  "Can I trust you to do it?"

  "Do you need to ask after what I did to Castlereagh today?"

  She gazed up at him. "I just want to be sure."

  Sebastian nodded. "I've thrown in my whole lot with you. But be careful. I may not have killed you under his orders but he's still got a powerful network hereabouts."

  "What are you two gossiping about out there?" Philip called, signaling to them to come into the parlor.

  "Nothing in particular. Just trying to figure out the best way to pick up the trail on Simon," she improvised, with a smile on her face that didn't meet her eyes.

  "I have a few ideas," Sebastian said with a nod, stepping towards Philip.

  "Good, good. Come on, then, and help us look through these files for any leads on Simon's whereabouts."

  "Gladly," Miranda said with a nod, hurrying after Sebastian.

  The grim little party began to sort through the most shocking files on the Rakehells, stunned at all they were learning as they went through them, but all Imbued with a new sense of hope that they could free them all from the enmity of Castlereagh, and find George's brother at last.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  They hurriedly looked through the files and took notes on anything they thought might be of significance, until the clock chiming reminded them all that George would be home soon and they still hadn't changed into more suitable attire.

  Each went upstairs to performed hasty ablutions and donned fresh clothes quickly. Miranda rubbed her aching flesh from the busk she had worn and hoped George wouldn't try to undress her for the next few hours and wonder why she had suddenly taken to wearing corsets.

  Each looked the picture of innocence when George returned in time for supper. But the air of suppressed excitement around the table was palpable, and after they had finished eating, she knew she could not keep the news to herself a moment longer.

  She signaled to Sebastian, and dragged George into the study by the hand.

  "What, what is it, sweetheart?" he asked worriedly. "You've all been acting so oddly at supper."

  "We have a little bit of news, darling. Not a lot, but some."

  "We?" he said in confusion. He had felt sure Miranda was about to tell him she was with child. The 'we' brought him up short.

  Sebastian lied, "I did a bit of B and E, and got some of the files you wanted."

  He handed over the one about Simon and George, keeping the one on Alexander in reserve, since Miranda was not sure if the man could be trusted if he was still working for the Foreign Office. Only time would tell.

  Ignoring his own dossier, George read Simon’s file through and raged and swore, until Sebastian was sure he would have to wrestle him to the ground to stop him from seeing Castlereagh.

  "But he isn’t at Bedlam any more. Three women helped him escape."

  This set him raging again, this time with frustration. Finally he calmed, and crumpled against Miranda. "He’s alive. Really alive."

  She cradled him against her bosom. "Yes, darling. And we will find him. If we find the woman or women, we’ll find him."

  "But where to look? I tried all the brothels already, when I was looking for Oxnard’s first wife. She has to be the blond, don't you see?"

  She wondered aloud, "Is it possible they’ve fallen in love?

  "Who?"

  "Oxnard’s first wife and Simon. Or her sister and Simon. Maybe her family were helping?"

  "Anything is possible. I can’t imagine it myself. But he was always a very gentle man. The best of the three of us, to my way of thinking. It is not completely unheard of for a woman to nurse someone back to health."

  "Aye, true enough. Not the blond, but the red-head, then. If she was helping her sister, she must have had skills, been a devoted nurse. We can try to see if we find any women matching that description."

  "Women."

  "Yes, three. Very strange."

  "One red-headed sister, one blond madwoman, who was Oxnard’s wife, Lucinda, Lucinda Howell, one nurse?"

  "The guard said whore."

  "Very strange. I know they are common enough in Bedlam as they are in London, but why would a whore help them?"

  "Well, as we know, appearances can be deceiving. Perhaps they just dressed or acted like whores to do what you just said, blend in."

  "And what if they were sent by Simon to harm him. Whisk him away before I found him?"

  Sebastian shook his head. "I don't think so. The kitten would suggest a kind heart and well, an attempt to make the best of a bad situation. Plus, the blond was with child. Castlereagh suborns all sorts of spies, but not usually ungainly pregnant mad women.

  "Hmm, true."

  "So Sebastian is going to try to pick up the trail again. If we find the women, even one of them, we should be able to find Simon.

  "Maybe there is a portrait of Oxnard’s wife somewhere?"

  George shrugged. "We can start looking again in the morning. I have to confess I’m done in by everything you've just shown me." He turned to his friend. "Sebastian, I can’t thank you enough. And I know what this cost you. Putting your arse on the line for me like this, well, we both know it's putting yourself in the shadow of the gallows once more."

  Sebastian looked completely startled and guilty, but Miranda gave an imperceptible shake of her head.

  "It was hard, but all in a good cause," he said stiffly, not meeting his friend’s eyes.

  "All the same. No more breaking and entering, do you hear me!"

  "No, no, of course not," Sebastian said with a tight smile, and shivered.

  Miranda gave the handsome young god an encouraging smile, and he nodded and sighed.

  Once they were safely upstairs in bed, Miranda helped George undress, donned a nightrail, and got into the bed beside him.

  He held her close, inhaling her hair, her soft perfume. "Thank you for everything. For keeping faith, and never giving up."

  "You did the same for me."

  "Still, I don’t know how long the search for Simon will take—"

  "As long as it has to now that we know he’s still alive. And who knows, perhaps he’s made his way to your other brother somehow?"

 
George nodded. "Anything’s possible."

  "Have you made any decisions about The New Rose?"

  "I will rebuild, but I think I’d like to just give it to Milly and Daniel as a wedding gift. I did love it, but I’m soon to be a married man, and I want a normal life. Out in the country, away from bloody London."