by Lucy Adams
As one, everyone in the room turned towards the man in the chair, now known as Taylor. He looked away, only for Lord Millerton to press the knife a little more.
“He always has a horse waiting close by,” Taylor muttered, darkly. “He told me what to do and I did it. Then I came back here. Hid myself away, just like he asked.”
“And who is ‘he’?” Lord Millerton asked, his hand white as he grasped the knife a little tighter. “Clearly you know him.”
Taylor shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I have seen him, but I don’t know his name,” he answered, his voice rasping just a little. “He often watched the house. He wanted to make sure Hamilton did as he was told.”
Carolyn looked towards Lord Franks, who was now leaning back on the desk, his stance firm but his eyes holding so much emotion that she could barely keep his gaze. She could not imagine what he was feeling, even though the news that he had been betrothed only a few short months ago had come as something of a shock.
“Can you describe him?” Lord Franks asked, not even looking at Taylor but rather turning his gaze towards Lord Millerton. “Do not even think of hesitating, Taylor, for I can assure you that your fate is already as good as sealed.” He shifted his weight, leaning a little more towards the fellow. “You shot a gentleman of high standing. You injured Lord Millerton’s driver and allowed Lord Millerton himself to be beaten without mercy. And I presume it was you who spooked Lord Caravel’s horse, so that he crashed to the ground?”
Carolyn held her breath as Taylor’s smirk immediately began to fade, the confidence in his expression seeming to disappear all at once. For the first time, he perhaps realized just what was to face him now.
“I—I didn’t hurt this Lord Caravel,” he stammered, his face paling. “I was in this room, hidden away. You can ask Lord Hamilton! It must have been the other. Mr. Astor.”
“But you did the other things,” Lord Millerton said, as Taylor swallowed hard. “And you did them under the instruction of this unknown gentleman. Tell me, was he a grey haired gentleman, with silvery eyes?” He took a step to his left, looking at the man. “Was he tall but thin? And did he carry a cane with him?”
Carolyn caught her breath as the man nodded, realizing that both Lord Franks and Lord Millerton had met the man behind it all.
“The man who stole the box from me,” Lord Millerton murmured, as Lord Franks began to frown, rubbing at a deep groove that had appeared between his eyes. “The gentleman you yourself saw.”
“The one I felt sure I recognized,” Lord Franks added, looking back towards Carolyn’s brother, who still had his head in his hands. “This has not been about the ‘League’. This has been about me.”
“I believe so,” Lord Hamilton whispered, brokenly, as Carolyn closed her eyes. “The handkerchief with the emblem—I was to show that to you. The fire was to be set on the night you were present.”
Carolyn’s eyes flew open. “Then it was you who set it?”
Lord Hamilton looked at her miserably. “I assisted,” he agreed, sorrowfully. “And I have had to hide this…this….rogue in my own house, fearful what would occur if I did not.”
Carolyn did not feel a wave of sympathy rise up within her as she watched her brother. He was someone who lived only for himself, who cared only for his own wellbeing. No doubt he had been afraid for his own safety with Taylor in the house, rather than that of herself and her mother.
“Then what are you to do next?” Lord Millerton asked, as Lord Hamilton let out a shaky breath. “What is your next task?”
Lord Hamilton looked up at Lord Millerton slowly. “The soiree,” he answered, his face drawn and pale. “It is to be held in a few days’ time and I am to ensure that Lord Franks is present.” He gestured towards Lord Franks. “I trust you have already received my invitation.”
“And you do not know if this gentleman will be present also?” Carolyn pressed, her heart quickening as a sense of danger began to overtake her. “What is it he intends to do?”
“I do not know!” Lord Hamilton protested, running his hands through his hair, his eyes wide and desperation obvious. “I do as I am asked, that is all.”
Silence reigned for a moment or two and then, finally, Lord Franks spoke. When he did, it was with deliberation and firmness, clearly able to take all he had heard, all the shock and the triumph, and make a plan for what would be done next.
“It will continue,” he said, as Lord Hamilton slowly dropped his head again. “The soiree will go ahead as planned, but you must be prepared to make a few additional invitations also. And you will inform us of all that this gentleman asks of you, so that we are prepared.”
Carolyn opened her mouth, wanting to protest, wanting to state that they ought not to do as this man had asked for fear of what would occur, but the look in Lord Franks’ eyes had her remaining silent.
“I will discover this man,” Lord Franks continued, his voice quieter now but all the more ominous. “I will bring him to face the consequences of what he has done. And you, Lord Hamilton, will do all you can to help me else it will be all the worse for you.” He gestured towards the door. “To the drawing room, perhaps. We have much to discuss.”
Carolyn looked from her brother to Lord Franks and back again, feeling a small sense of determination rising up within her. “I will join you,” she said, just as Lord Millerton dragged Taylor up from the chair, his free hand on his shoulder. “But what of Taylor?”
Lord Millerton gave her a nod. “Leave this wretch to me,” he said, showing no sign of weakness now. “Go and make your plans, Lord Franks. It is time that this was all brought to an end.”
Lord Franks nodded sternly, took Lord Hamilton’s arm and practically threw him from the room. Carolyn followed silently, with Lady Callander indicating that she would remain with Lord Millerton. Everything in her life had changed in the last few minutes and she was not quite certain when she would get over the shock. She felt warnings of danger ringing all around her, her eyes fixed on Lord Franks as he walked a little behind Lord Hamilton. What would happen to her brother? What would happen to Lord Franks? And what, at the end of all things, would happen to her?
Chapter Thirteen
It had been a week since Lord Hamilton’s revelation and the soiree was now in full swing. Lord Hamilton had done as he had been ordered by Robert, clearly a little relieved that there was to be no immediate repercussions as to what he had done regarding Miss Swift. The instigator, the man whose name they did not yet know, had given barely any instructions to Lord Hamilton, save to inform him that the gardens were to be opened up to the guests for the evening. Robert felt very much as though he were trying to find something of great importance in a vat filled with clay. He did not know what this man intended for the evening, what his intentions were towards Robert himself nor what he would do with Lord Hamilton should matters come to a conclusion. Lifting his chin, he walked into Lord Hamilton’s drawing room, putting a small smile on his face and praying that Lord Hamilton himself would act with propriety, not giving anything away.
“Ah, good evening Lord Franks.”
Lord Hamilton’s tone was welcoming, his eyes darting away for just a moment as Robert bowed. “Good evening, Lord Hamilton,” he replied. “I thank you for the invitation for this evening.”
Lord Hamilton inclined his head. “But of course,” he said, with a small smile and no indication that he was fearful of anything that might occur. “My sister, I am sure, will be glad to see you.”
Miss Hemmingway, who was standing beside Lord Hamilton, blushed furiously, her cheeks now a deep pink as she sank into a curtsy. Despite the severity of the situation, Robert could not help but grin.
“Good evening, Miss Hemmingway,” he murmured, seeing how she sank into a perfect curtsy. “Might I say just how beautiful you look this evening?” He meant every word. Miss Hemmingway was wearing a gown of deep blue, the color vivid and striking, but bringing his attention, in turn, to her eyes. How he could ever have th
ought her plain, he did not know, for he found himself reveling in her now. When all this came to a close, Robert knew that he would have to examine his own heart and decide what he was to do with all that he felt for this lady.
“I thank you, Lord Franks,” she replied, quietly. “And whilst you have embarrassed me a little by speaking so bluntly, I must confess that I am very glad indeed that you were able to join us this evening.”
He smiled at her, once more finding that the honest, open manner that had struck him on their first meeting was just as refreshing now. “I hope I might converse with you a little later, Miss Hemmingway,” he told her, seeing how the light in her eyes seemed to grow as she returned his smile. “Until then, I shall allow you to continue to greet the rest of your guests.”
Taking his leave, he wandered into the drawing room and casually looked around before making his way towards Lord Monteforte, who greeted him warmly. They talked of inane things, laughing at certain points and giving the appearance of general conversation, making quite certain that there was no-one within the room watching them.
Lord Monteforte cleared his throat, tilting his head just a fraction. “No-one is watching us at present,” he said, quietly, as Robert took a glass from the tray offered by a nearby footman. “Tell me, have you had any further thoughts as to why this man, whoever he might be, has chosen to pursue you?”
Robert shook his head. It had been dogging his mind ever since Lord Hamilton had revealed such a thing to him. “I do not,” he said, quietly. “I am relieved that the ‘League’ does not seem to be either known or important to this fellow, but I cannot think why –”
“My lord?”
Turning, Robert saw a footman standing just to his left, who was already inclining his head in evident apology for interrupting his conversation.
“My lord, you are requested to join Miss Hemmingway in the library.”
Robert blinked in surprise, hearing Lord Monteforte’s small exclamation of astonishment. “I beg your pardon?” he asked, as the footman looked away. “To join Miss Hemmingway alone in the library?”
The footman shook his head. “Forgive me, my lord, I mean to say that Lady Callander is also present but that Miss Hemmingway is the one who has requested your company.”
“I see.” Robert glanced towards Lord Monteforte, who gave him the tiniest of nods. “Then I should be glad to join her.” He took his leave of Lord Monteforte, knowing that his friend was already summoning a few other gentlemen from the League to make their way to the library also. As he quit the room, he threw a quick glance over his shoulder and saw Lord Hamilton staring after him, his face white and his eyes very large indeed. Robert frowned. Miss Hemmingway had been standing beside her brother only a few minutes ago. What had been the reason for her departure?
Walking smartly along the passageway, Robert felt his heart begin to thud with an ominous sense of foreboding. Something was wrong here, he knew, for whilst Miss Hemmingway was certainly a little unconventional, she would not have sent a footman to invite him to come to join her in the library. Had he not been prepared, had he thought that this was nothing more than a soiree, then he might simply have walked into the library without any consideration whatsoever, but as it was, he knew very well that he had to be very careful indeed.
Rapping lightly on the library door, he turned the handle and pushed it a little ajar. “Miss Hemmingway?” he called, not stepping any closer or pushing the door open further. “Are you within?”
There was a momentary pause. Robert struggled to keep his breathing steady, closing his eyes as he listened hard.
“I—I am.” Miss Hemmingway’s voice was tight and wound with fear. “Please, do come in, Lord Franks.” He knew already that she was in danger but certainly could not remain behind the door indefinitely. “I have been waiting for you.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lord Monteforte, Lord Millerton and one other slowly padding down the hallway towards him. Taking in a steadying breath, he pushed the door further open but did not step inside. The door creaked as it moved slowly, revealing the scene before him inch by inch.
“Do come in, Lord Franks.”
The voice that reached him now was not that of Miss Hemmingway. Rather, it came from the man standing over behind a chair by the fireplace. With one hand, he beckoned Robert in and, with the other, he held a knife to Miss Hemmingway’s throat. She was sitting in the chair, her back straight, her hands grasping the arms of the chair and her eyes wide with fright.
“As you can see, it is not Miss Hemmingway who requires you here this evening,” the man continued, as Robert began to walk further into the room, making sure to leave the door open, “but she was useful to me in forcing you to attend here. I do hope you have enjoyed the little games we have been playing.” He chuckled as Robert narrowed his eyes. “I hope they have made you realize just what a failure you are.”
“What do you want?” Robert glared at the man, taking in his thin frame, his grey, thinning hair and the silvery eyes that held so much hatred. “Why have you been playing such games?”
The man laughed again, although this time, his lips pulled thin and an ugly expression crossed his face. “Revenge,” he said, simply, waving Robert towards a chair opposite Miss Hemmingway. “I have followed you ever since I discovered that it was you who was responsible. I have calculated and deliberated for some time until I was able to come up with a plan that would have you lost in confusion as you tried to understand all that was going on around you.”
“A plan that involved Lord Hamilton,” Robert said, bluntly, looking into Miss Hemmingway’s eyes and praying that she could continue to remain strong whilst he tried to not only extract the truth from this fellow but also find way to ensure she was kept quite safe. “You used him to reach me.”
The man shrugged. “I am not of a high enough title to join the upper classes of London society,” he said, tightly, his face still awash with ugliness. “I needed someone who would do so. Luckily, I was attending the very same house party as he and was very easily able to surmise what was developing between himself and Miss Swift.” Another low chuckle, as though he found Lord Hamilton’s actions to be of mirth. “It was easy to rein him in after that.”
Robert gritted his teeth, seeing Miss Hemmingway close her eyes, wincing as the knife pressed a little harder at her neck. “But why?” he asked, not looking to his left but wondering if Lord Monteforte or Lord Millerton would enter the room in a burst of sound in order to distract the fellow. It would be risky but he could not see what else they could do. “Why would you pursue me with such force?”
“Because I wanted you to suffer!” the man exclaimed, his voice now ripping through the room, his face dark with anger. “I followed you. I saw you meet with others. I knew what you had done and guessed you would continue with your investigations, whatever they were.” He sucked in air, trembling visibly with fury. “I wanted you not only to fail but to pay the price for what you had done.”
“And so you led me a merry chase,” Robert interrupted, seeing the knife slip a little lower on Miss Hemmingway’s neck as the man lost his concentration as he focused all of his attention onto Robert. “You have involved others, so that you could step back and watch it all from a distance.”
The man grinned horribly. “The emblem was meant to distract you and it did precisely that,” he said, slowly. “That gave me such satisfaction that I –”
“You had Taylor shoot through Lord Watt’s window,” Robert interrupted, seeing the man start visibly at the mention of Taylor’s name. “Why did you do so? Because you had seen me enter?” He watched the fellow frown but continued to ask his questions. “What if I had not been the one to look into what had occurred?”
The man shrugged, although his brows still remained furrowed. “Then I would have done something else, or something more, until you were involved in some way,” he answered, his words spiked with hatred. “It had to be you, Lord Franks. I had to see you chasing this, pu
rsuing this, so that I might be the one to watch you fail time and again.” He chuckled and Robert felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. “And you did fail, did you not?”
Robert did not answer, his jaw working furiously.
“You failed in protecting Lord Millerton,” the man continued, with a smirk. “You left him in the carriage, thinking that I was there to help you. What a fool you were!” He laughed harshly and it was all Robert could do to keep himself in his seat, seeing how Miss Hemmingway closed her eyes, clearly trying to keep her composure. “I took the box that you had stolen from Lord Hamilton. I removed the contents.” His lip curled. “Lord Hamilton made a grievous mistake in leaving both the notes and the handkerchief in that box. Thankfully, Taylor’s loyalty is easily bought. He acted swiftly, else my plans might have been thrown into disarray.” Tilting his head, he returned his gaze to Robert. “But they have gone rather smoothly, I would say. And now I have you precisely where I intended you to be, from the very first moment that I planned my revenge.”
“Why?”
Miss Hemmingway’s eyes remained closed, her voice a little wispy but her hands tight on the arms of the chair. Robert saw the man’s gaze dart down to her face, feeling his chest tighten with a fresh anxiety that he might harm Miss Hemmingway without warning.
“Why have you targeted Lord Franks?” Miss Hemmingway asked, softly. “You have had my brother involved in ensuring that Lord Franks saw the emblem on his handkerchief, and then setting the fire at the ball.” Her eyes opened and she looked directly at Robert, her cheeks still pale but a small flicker of determination burning in her eyes. “You have had my brother keep Taylor in his study, so that he is safe from Lord Franks’ investigations. You have kept yourself hidden whilst ensuring that your plans go ahead without difficulty, although you were forced to step in to prevent the box from being discovered. And I presume that you have been the one to bring about Lord Caravel’s death.”
