“Oh, Vi, he already does.”
“He’ll come for us, Mama,” said Vi. “I know he will.”
Jane kissed her daughter, then rejoined Cantwell and the others.
When they were almost to the carriage, Vi tripped and fell. As Jane knelt beside her daughter, she noticed one of the axles of the carriage looked to be on the verge of splitting. The wood was so decayed, that only a slight amount of force would break it, buying them more time on the road. Allowing someone time to catch up to them. Because Jane couldn’t stand it if Ned didn’t come. All she needed was a diversion to cover the sound.
“Sweeting,” Jane whispered in her daughter’s ear, “when I say ‘go,’ I want you to start crying as loud as you can. Scream and shout. Can you do that?”
Vi nodded solemnly.
Jane sidled just a bit closer to the underside of the carriage, to within kicking distance of the listing axle.
“Go,” she whispered to her daughter.
Vi let out an ear-piercing shriek, then began crying at the top of her lungs. She was so convincing in her performance that Jane wondered just how many times she’d fallen for one of the girl’s tantrums when she’d only been faking.
Jane kicked back with her leg, hoping her skirts would hide the motion. She made contact with the axle, but it didn’t move. She looked up to see that the men were distracted by Vi, but understandably keeping their distance. She really was making quite a racket.
Jane kicked again and the axle creaked just a bit. The men were beginning to walk toward them. She’d have only one more chance. She kicked a third time and felt the wood give way. Cantwell and his men were almost upon them. Jane stood and pulled Vi to her protectively.
There was a loud groan of wood as the axle broke. The carriage immediately listed to the side, with the right rear hitting the ground.
“What the devil?” said Cantwell as he looked at the damage to the carriage.
Jane held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t realize what she’d done.
The coachman staggered toward them. From the way he was walking, as well as the fumes emanating from his breath, it was obvious he’d been drinking.
“Looks to be a broken axle,” he said, as he pulled out his flask.
“I know that, you imbecile,” said Cantwell, as he batted the flask out of the other man’s hands. “How did it happen?”
“Don’t rightly know,” said the coachman, as he shrugged and walked back toward his station. “But we ain’t going nowhere ‘til it’s fixed.”
“You, Sully!” yelled Cantwell. “Unhitch a horse, then ride back to that last town. Rent a new carriage and be quick about it, or I’ll have your hide.”
Sully grunted in Cantwell’s direction, then set off toward the horses, passing Jane and Vi as he went. Vi caught his eye and smiled at him.
As Sully took off on one of the horses, Jane prayed the man would send word back to London. And if he did, she hoped it wouldn’t be too late.
Cantwell walked up to her.
“Seems suspicious, that axle breaking all of the sudden.”
“The carriage isn’t exactly in good shape and that coachman of yours is a drunkard,” said Jane in her frostiest tone. “You can’t force me to marry you, you know. You can’t prevent me from telling what’s happened once we get to Scotland.”
He laughed. A grim sound. “Don’t you know by now that anyone can be bought? Absolutely everyone has a price. I can get someone to marry us in Scotland despite any protest you’d make, and for less money than I’d spend to get my boots blacked.”
“I’ll fight you every step of the way.”
“If you try anything funny, the bastard dies.”
“Stop calling her that,” Jane said, pulling Vi closer to her body.
“Oh, Jane, you’re in no position to give me orders. She only lives as long as I want her to. As long as I want to share your inheritance with a child who’s not my get.”
“I’ll never marry you and I’ll certainly never bear your child.”
“I could get you with child right now. I guarantee it’ll happen before we reach Scotland. And while it certainly wouldn’t be the first time you became pregnant without getting married, I assure you this time you will become a bride. Tell me, did Lord Edward know he’d fathered a bastard on you? And, by any chance, has he given you another one?”
Jane wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer. “Did you kill my grandfather?”
“Your grandfather,” spat Cantwell, “was an angry, bitter old man who thought he could control me. Me! Thought he owned me, that he could make me sign over your inheritance to him when he already had more money then he needed. He said he’d leave us just enough to live on. I wanted more than that. He was a mean bastard. Kept my vowels hanging over my head. Said he could send me to debtor’s prison anytime he wanted. Then he threatened me once Kellington showed up. Said there was a duke’s brother sniffing about and maybe he’d change his mind and sell you to Kellington. Lynwood is filthy rich. The old bastard probably figured he could cash in.”
“Is that why you killed him?” she asked again.
Cantwell was silent for a moment. Jane could tell he was torn between caution at his confession and the need to brag about what he’d done. Finally, his pride won out. “Yes. Although, it looked like Kellington would’ve saved me the trouble after that second kidnapping attempt. You should’ve seen him as he barged into the old man’s study. Luckily I’d heard him coming and was able to duck behind a curtain. Kellington looked like he wanted to kill the bastard with his bare hands. That’s the only reason I left him alive. Gave Bow Street a prime suspect. Now shut up and leave me in peace.”
There was a nearby boulder where Jane was able to sit. She held Vi in her lap and took the time to plan their escape. Sooner or later, the carriage would have to stop at a posting inn. They had to run across someone who would help. Because regardless of what Evan Cantwell said, not everyone had a price.
It must’ve been half an hour later when they heard a carriage coming up the road. Jane hoped she could signal the driver to stop, but as it neared, she saw it was Sully in the coachman’s seat. Her heart sank. Help wouldn’t be coming after all.
Sully pulled the carriage to a halt. The horses had barely settled when the doors swung open and Ned, Stapleton, Fisk and Rigg jumped out, each with a gun in his hand. After that, everything happened so fast.
Stapleton had his gun aimed point blank at one of the thugs, while Fisk held the inebriated driver at gun point and Rigg made sure Sully didn’t move.
Cantwell grabbed Jane and she only had time to tell Vi to run before he put his knife to her throat. But the little girl didn’t run toward her father, as Jane had hoped, but in the opposite direction toward the woods.
“Put down your gun or she’s dead,” Cantwell said to Ned, then pulled the knife taut against Jane’s neck.
Jane slid her hand in her pocket and grabbed three hairpins, banding them together to make them stronger.
“The only way you’re walking away is if you let Jane go,” said Ned as he took one step closer to them.
“Put it down!” screamed Cantwell, cutting the skin on Jane’s neck.
Ned stopped. Then his blood froze as he saw Vi slowly inching toward Cantwell from the rear, holding a tree branch. He didn’t want to say anything to bring attention to the girl, but prayed she’d be safe.
“Give me your carriage and let us leave,” said Cantwell. “I’ll release her somewhere up the road.”
“You’re not leaving here with my family,” said Ned.
Cantwell narrowed his eyes. “Like you’d care that much about your whore and your bastard.”
Just then, Jane pulled the pins out of her pocket and reached back to jam them in Cantwell’s eye. She was only partially successful, but Vi used the distraction to hit Cantwell on the back of his knees with the branch. Jane pulled Vi to safety just as Ned stood over Cantwell with his gun aimed at his chest. He pulled the hamme
r back.
“Ned, no!” said Jane.
Ned wanted nothing more than to kill the bastard, but as he looked at his child standing so close, he knocked Cantwell unconscious with a fist to the jaw instead.
Just then a second carriage pulled up bearing the Lynwood crest.
Lynwood, Arthur and Hal jumped out. All armed. All ready to do what was needed. Stapleton enlisted their help in tying up the brigands as he filled them in on what had happened.
Ned turned and pulled Jane and Vi into his arms.
“Papa!” his daughter said crying, as she buried her face in his neck.
He looked at Jane, surprised, then held Vi even closer.
“My girl,” he said. “My daughter. I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” her muffled voice said. “And Mama.”
“I love Mama, too,” said Ned. “With my very soul.”
* * *
Stapleton, Fisk and Lynwood used the rented carriage to escort Cantwell, the coachman and the other accomplice to the next town, which had a very secure jail. Runners from Bow Street would be sent to escort them to Newgate. They left Sully in town with money to take the post chaise wherever he wanted to go, strongly suggesting this would be a good time to give up a life of crime. He’d overheard them at the coaching inn where he’d gone to rent the carriage. He realized he could help the little girl who reminded him so much of his daughter, so he’d gone along with their plan.
After disposing of the brigands, and picking up Arthur, Hal and Rigg on the way back, it was a cramped trip back to town. It was the first time Lynwood had ever traveled by hired carriage, a third-rate one at that. He vowed it would also be his last.
Ned, Jane and Vi took the Lynwood carriage back to London. He held his wife-to-be and their daughter for the entire trip. Vi tried to fill him in on every minute of her life he’d missed and he enjoyed each and every story. He also looked forward to living the rest of her experiences with her.
And as Vi finally fell asleep, and Ned held her and her mother close, he realized everything he truly needed was with him now.
It was a very good feeling indeed.
EPILOGUE
Vi had been elated to learn her beloved Ned was actually her papa. But it was only later that day when they returned to Lynwood House that she realized she didn’t just have a new papa. She also had an Uncle Liam, an Uncle Arthur, an Uncle Hal and an Aunt Lizzie. They told her she also had a Great Aunt Agatha, but since no one was that excited about it, she felt it’d be all right to wait and meet her later.
The wedding of Lord Edward Kellington to Miss Jane Wetherby was held in London. While both bride and groom would’ve preferred a smaller affair in Marston Vale with the local vicar presiding, Lynwood felt it best to show support for his sister-in-law in front of the ton, in the most public way possible. Likewise, Lynwood made it a point to go driving with his niece in Hyde Park during the fashionable hour every day for two weeks. He called it his supreme sacrifice. Not because he didn’t enjoy Vi; he very much did. It was that mass of humanity he met during those drives – the matchmaking mamas, simpering debutantes and scheming matrons – that made the experience insufferable.
Ned and Jane decided to return to Marston Vale so she could resume her surgery practice. The members of the local gentry who’d once cut her, embraced the new couple with open arms and made it known that they hoped his grace would soon visit the country. For their part, Ned and Jane were polite to everyone, but the friends they enjoyed being with were the people who’d been kind to Jane all along.
Madeleine Merriman found an earl to marry. A 52-year-old earl to be exact. With gout. And very little hair other than in his ears.
Vi finally made a solemn promise to her parents that she’d stop wandering off and that when told to run, she’d do just that. It remained to be seen if she’d ever keep those vows.
Father and daughter, accompanied by the dog that they’d finally named Merry Man – in recognition of the family that had inadvertently brought them together – enjoyed exploring the woods around their house. And Ned still climbed the occasional tree to try and roust Titania.
He was in one of those trees a few months after they were married, when Vi asked her mother if she would ever have a baby brother or sister. Jane hugged her daughter and said that, yes, she’d have one in about six months.
That made Ned fall out of a tree, again. Fortunately, he was only a tiny bit bruised as he held his wife and daughter in his arms and wondered why it was that he was the luckiest man who ever lived.
* * *
Not long after Ned and Jane’s wedding, Sergeant Fisk answered an urgent summons from Lizzie to attend her at Kellington House. Fortunately, he had the morning off from his new job at Bow Street. As he entered the house, a girl arrived from Minsberg Millinery.
Apparently, Lady Elizabeth Kellington – daughter and sister of dukes – had demanded that this particular shop assistant, Miss Clara Jones, deliver 100 hat pins immediately, then stay until each and every one was counted. Miss Jones was only too happy to oblige, because she was very sweet-natured and had always been a favorite of Lizzie’s. Petite, blonde haired and blue eyed, she had only one imperfection, a pronounced limp.
When Lizzie claimed fatigue would prevent her from counting the pins, she enlisted Sergeant Fisk’s help in ensuring her purchase was intact. Then she sent Heskiss in with tea to facilitate the counting. Then she told Lynwood to call for his carriage, so Fisk could escort Miss Jones back to the shop.
And the rest, they say, was history.
“Good God, woman, what did you do to poor Fisk?” asked Arthur a few weeks later when they heard of the Sergeant’s engagement. “You pushed him into parson’s mousetrap right as the man was getting his life in order.”
“I can do the same for you,” said Lizzie, “if you’d only let me.”
“I have no intention of getting married for a good many years, if ever. You have my word on it.”
“Oh, Arthur,” said Lizzie, shaking her head wearily. “Never make a promise you can’t keep. It’s simply not the Kellington way.”
Don’t miss the next installment in the Kellington family saga. Here’s a sneak peek at Lizzie’s story, coming in Fall 2011.
CHAPTER ONE
London, July 1822
Not for the first time did Lady Elizabeth Kellington consider how much easier it was to be a man than a woman. A man wouldn’t have to suffer with a corset and petticoats on an unusually hot summer day, stuck in the stuffy study of his even stuffier eldest brother the Duke of Lynwood. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Each of her older brothers, Ned, Arthur and Hal, had spent time cooling their heels while waiting for Lynwood to berate them for some transgression or another. But none of them had done it while wearing stays.
At least Lizzie assumed they hadn’t.
And none of them had ever been in trouble for such a mild offense. Hal was often called on the carpet for his time spent drinking and whoring – not that Lizzie was supposed to know about such things. Arthur had a tendency to lose too much money gaming. And just a few months ago, Ned was told to attend to an understanding he’d had since birth with a most unpleasant chit. Fortunately for all concerned, he’d found a way to end his association with that shrew and marry the wonderful Jane, who just happened to be the mother of his six-year-old daughter Vi.
And that was the way of the world. Men got to drink, whore, gamble and father children out-of-wedlock. All she did was get involved just the tiniest bit in politics and it was as if she’d run naked through Hyde Park. Of course, that would be one way to be rid of the accursed corset.
The door opened and Lynwood entered the room. Slightly over six feet tall, with black hair, blue eyes and a nose that had been broken at least once, William Kellington, Duke of Lynwood looked every inch the powerful aristocrat. Dedicated to his three brothers and only sister, Lynwood had been head of the family since the death of their parents more than a decade earlier. He was stern but fair
and, unfortunately for Lizzie, had an uncanny ability to know when someone wasn’t being completely truthful.
“I assume you know why you’re here,” he said, as he took a seat at his desk opposite her.
“I suppose it may have something to do with my political activities.”
Lynwood leaned back in his chair. “I thought we’d come to an agreement. I would allow you to attend a few meetings, well chaperoned by Aunt Prue and Miss Mariah, and you would remain quietly in the background.”
“Which is exactly what I did.”
“Am I to understand then,” said Lynwood, as his gaze penetrated hers, “that you were as quiet as the proverbial church mouse, sitting docilely in the background, not making your views known to anyone?”
“I’m sure I don’t appreciate being compared to a rodent, but yes, I was quiet.”
“So you didn’t, perchance, make yourself known to the ladies around you?”
Lizzie sat up straighter. “I am the daughter and sister of dukes, Liam. I hardly need to make myself known to anyone.”
“And as the properly raised daughter and sister of dukes, you do know that society frowns upon political agitation by ladies, don’t you?”
She hated it when he took on that insufferable tone. She narrowed her eyes at him in response. “I would hardly call the meetings ‘agitation.’ They serve tea, for Heaven’s sake.”
“What about when the participants call for property rights for women, easier access to divorce for wives who’ve suffered physical abuse at the hands of their husbands and – of all preposterous notions – giving women the vote?”
Inwardly, Lizzie froze. There’s no way he could possibly know, could he? Even a man as well connected as her brother couldn’t have obtained a copy of her treatise. Outwardly, she smiled and brazened it out.
“One day we will vote, you know. Women shall run for office and there’ll even be a female Prime Minister.”
“Heaven forefend. That sounds like something only the savage Americans would dream up.”
Never a Mistress, No Longer a Maid (Kellington Book One) Page 24
