“Until I came to what senses?” What hole of insanity had he toppled into?
“Until you found the good sense to offer for Alexandra, of course, which you are now doing.” She let out a dramatic sigh. “Oh, please don’t be annoyed with Winston. I asked him to offer for her because he was the only one I could trust to give her back when you did indeed come to your senses, which I knew you would do—eventually.”
“That would be like putting the fox charge of the henhouse,” he muttered. Yes indeed, Napoleon himself would have been obliterated already if Aunt Bertha was directing England’s forces.
Pressing her fingers to her lips, she pondered. “It is peculiar though, I didn’t think Winston would offer for her quite this soon. I was sure I had instructed him to delay at least a fortnight. Wanted the poor darling to enjoy some of her season, you know. But what if some young man of social consequence like Wallingford offered for her? It is quite doubtful that he would want to return her.”
“I’m not so sure Winston would have returned her either, Aunt. He was rather gawking like a veritable idiot over her when they were dancing,” he grumbled.
Her eyes widened. “Dear heavens, you don’t say! Well, it is fortunate indeed that you decided to ruin her as soon as you did. That was a most brilliant maneuver on your part, I daresay, Edward dear. It was utterly ingenious!”
This was the last thing he had ever expected to come out of Aunt Bertha’s mouth. Too bad Father wasn’t here to hear it. “I can’t exactly say I planned it, but on hindsight, I admit I am rather relieved.”
Bertha beamed. “Ashford and I shall give a ball to celebrate your engagement. First we must toast two of the dearest people to me, who don’t loathe each other any more. Instead they are getting married!”
She raised her cup. “Yes, yes, my dear boy, you presented quite the challenge indeed. I admit on occasion I did have my doubts, but my plan prevailed victoriously. It was just the same with your father, you see. My plan succeeded with him and your mother as well.”
“Good God,” Edward moaned, looking up toward heaven. “She’s an indubitable fairy godmother.”
“—Albert!” she shrieked. “Bring us more brandy—the good stuff this time.”
Albert rushed into the room looking pallid. “Madame, Sir, I fear disaster has befallen us.”
“What is it?” Bertha asked. Henrietta hovered at the doorway with the same pallid expression.
“Lady Alexandra is missing and her chambers is ransacked,” Albert bleakly announced.
Edward stood, staring at Albert. He felt the blood drain from his own face.
“She’s missing? How do you know?”
Albert mopped his forehead with a handkerchief. “When Henrietta went up to check on her this morning, Miss Alexandra was not there. And the room was in its current state of upheaval.”
Dread swept through Edward like venom, poisoning his entire being with terror. “Did you check the stables?” he managed to ask.
“Yes, sir. The groom said her horse is still in his stall, but his halter was put on. Her saddle and bridle were found in a heap on the floor in the tack room, not set properly on their racks.”
“Dear heavens!” Bertha exclaimed, fanning herself. “Send a footman for the authorities at once. And send someone for Ashford.” She slumped back in her chair. Her face was ashen and she held her hand to her throat. “Albert! Where is my hartshorn?”
Chapter 33
Edward tore out the back door to the stables. The horse, saddle and bridle were indeed just as Albert described. Upon further inspection, a crumpled brown derby was also found. Edward recognized it as the one Alexandra wore sometimes when pretending to be Ian. He picked the hat up and crushed it in his hand as the icy terror continued to slice through him. On the ground, he also saw evidence of something, or someone, being dragged.
He dashed back into the house and climbed the stairs to Alexandra’s bedchamber. This was the very room in which he had come to her so blissfully just hours before. Now it was in shambles. Furniture had been overturned, clothes strewn about, and even the mattress had been slashed. He was paralyzed with fear. Never, even on the battlefield, had he known such fear.
Albert, Henrietta and Bertha already stood, looking around the room, their horror etched on their faces.
“See if anything is missing,” Edward ordered as he was hit with a wave of nausea. His shoulder suddenly flared and he willed himself not to retch.
“I’ve been checking, milord,” Henrietta said. “So far, I haven’t noticed anything not here that wasn’t here before.”
“Keep searching,” his voice boomed. He exited the room, forcing himself to breathe so he could think rationally. At least in the stables or her bedchamber, he saw no evidence of blood.
Who would have cause to abduct her? And why? Perhaps it was one of the men who had offered for her. With her penchant for trouble, he was loathe to imagine why else.
Edward wanted to take off on his horse and charge after the blackguards, but he didn’t have a clue which way they had gone. Dashing out to the street, he searched for any tracks that would be telling. Nothing. There was not a trace of anything on the street, in the garden, or up or down the walkway. This was obviously a professional job.
He reached into his pocket and extracted a small velvet box. On his way to Bertha’s, he had rushed over to the family jeweler. Pounding on their door, he had demanded they open the shop early so he could purchase an engagement ring. He wanted to present Alexandra with it this morning. Last night after she fell asleep, he had secretly found a little string to measure her finger, keeping it with him to take to the jewelers this morning.
Now opening the box, he gazed at the ring. It was a brilliant oval sapphire. It flashed in the sun just as he had seen her eyes do so often. Would he ever get a chance to place it on her finger? His throat constricted and it was difficult to breathe. If anything should happen to her, he did not want to live.
Edward returned to the drawing room, trying to decide what to do. He paced in an effort to subdue his worst fears.
She had simply vanished. Someone must have surprised her. She was probably knocked unconscious and taken away in a conveyance, by the look of the stable. But why? Anyone offering for her would have no reason to abduct her, unless of course some scoundrel intended to ruin her so she would be forced to marry him. Ironically, he had beaten them to the punch. But it didn’t make sense that they would ransack her bed chamber.
A loud pounding echoed from the front door. Ashford slammed it open as he walked in. “What the bloody deuce is going on? The messenger said Alexandra is abducted. Is it true?”
Rage flashed in Ashford’s eyes as he saw the truth on Edward’s face.
Winston and Ian entered behind Ashford.
“Why is there a ghastly looking dagger stuck in the door?” Winston asked.
“Where?” Edward raced to the front door. A small jagged knife impaled a note to the front of the door. His blood froze. “This was not here when I arrived at nine o’clock. That was an hour ago.”
He pulled out the knife and scanned the note. In boldly printed handwriting, it said: “YOU GIT THE GIRL BACK WHEN WE GIT BACK THE JEWELS. TIN PENNY KNOWS WHERE TO FIND US. IF WE DON’T HAVE THEM IN A SENNIGHT, SHE DIES.”
Edward blanched and handed the note to Ashford.
“What jewels? And what in the devil is the tin penny?” Ashford demanded as they ambled into the drawing room.
“The only Tin Penny I know of is at the docks in Dover,” Winston said.
“A bloody den of thieves,” Edward said.
“Does anyone know anything about missing jewels from anywhere?” Ashford asked.
Ian began to violently cough. Once he cleared his throat, he was finally able to speak. “I might know something. I overheard something mentioned at the War office, but it’s a long shot.”
“Continue,” Ashford ordered.
“Some rare blue diamonds were said to have surfaced in
Paris, originally from the court of Louis XIV. Napoleon had seized them and was furious when they recently disappeared. Rumors have it that a militant group stole them called Les Nouveau Liberterres. The jewels are said to be worth a fortune. England was also keeping an eye out for them because it would give us leverage in the war, for prisoner exchanges and such.” Ian looked at them, his expression pensive. “But as I said, it’s an unquestionable long shot.”
“I’m going to the War Office at once,” Ashford said, collecting his hat and greatcoat.
Edward’s head reeled. His rage exploded. Lifting an end table, he hurled it against the wall. It crashed into splinters on the floor. “It’s that French bastard Jonteau’s doing!” he bellowed. His lungs heaved. He bent over to catch his breath and control his rage.
Ashford quickly crossed to Edward and rested his hand on Edward’s shoulder. “Calm yourself, Son. We shall find her.”
Edward shook his head and straightened. “I knew his presence at the ball last night was damned suspicious. It’s too much of a coincidence that he is in London and now Alexandra is missing.”
“He was there last night?” Ian asked. Alarm shot across his face. “The war office has been monitoring him for months.”
“He was dancing with Alexandra last night.” Edward clenched his jaw. Fury and terror still boiled within him, threatening to cripple him. He knew he must remain in control if he were to ever find Alexandra. He blinked and inhaled slowly, forcing his emotions to the back of his mind. “I need facts.” His voice was hoarse and clipped. “We must formulate some kind of plan. I’m not going to wait a bloody sennight to get her back.”
Edward took the chair at a small writing desk. He found a fresh quill and foolscap in the drawer. “Now, I need the entire story about Alexandra’s journey to France. I am no longer an invalid to be mollycoddled. I must have the unadulterated hard truth. I still have intelligence contacts I can use if I have all the facts. My instinct is telling me this abduction is connected to her journey. I know bits and pieces, but now I need to know everything.”
Ian exhaled and raked his hand through his hair. He crumpled into a chair. “This is altogether my fault. I’m the one who arranged it. But I knew her, Edward.” His eyes glossed over in sorrow. “She was determined to go to France no matter what. There was no stopping her. At least if I helped, I would know where to look, or I could help her if there was a problem.” His cough erupted violently for a moment, and then it subsided. “You had disappeared, Edward. We were all extremely worried. She merely wanted to make sure you were well.”
Ian put on his spectacles. “I set her up to accompany a courier on his route. It seemed the most efficient way; you know how she rides. I told her to disguise herself as a man until she got to Paris. I gave her the name of a boarding house to stay at, and invitations to some parties where she could go to just listen and perhaps gather information. She was gone a fortnight. When she returned, you were with her and you had been shot.”
Ashford spoke up. “At first I didn’t know she had gone to France. I thought perhaps she just picked you up at the docks. But Lieutenant McPhee gave me an earful. He said you met her at a masquerade ball in Paris. You asked the lieutenant to escort her home because there was some trouble with shooting and such which you needed to attend to. The next time he saw her was at the ambush outside of Calais. She was saving both your hides, from the sound of it. With her, you never know. Apparently, she hauled you both onto some horses and packed you off to Calais docks. The ship she was supposed to meet that day was not in port, so she took you both to a nearby inn. ”
Edward’s jaw fell open. “Alexandra was truly at the ambush outside Calais?” He had suspected it, but to have it confirmed twisted his stomach to a hard knot.
Things had happened so quickly. Edward’s emotions had been in such upheaval, he had not put together all the clues to the puzzle. It was her voice telling him not to die. It was obviously her with him on Sharky’s ship. So she and McPhee must have draped him over the horse.
Ashford continued, “Apparently, she held an inn hostage with a gun until someone fetched a doctor. And she also persuaded a Captain Shark to sail you home. Once you reached Dover, she hired a coach to get you to London.”
Edward’s eyes closed to back stinging tears. “Ian, how plausible does this story sound, given the connections you gave her?” He knew what the answer would be. His instincts were filling in the holes.
“It could have happened that way, Edward.”
“What was she traveling with? It couldn’t have been much.”
Ian replied, “I told her to bring money, lots of it, to buy clothes and such when she got to Paris. But she needed to travel light to avoid suspicion and because of the portion of the trip on horseback.”
Ian shook his head. “She was merely supposed to accompany one of our regular, most reliable couriers that morning. But he had been shot down the day before, and we had not yet been notified at the office.” He looked at Edward. “You must know, I would never have sent her off alone. Yet, she must have gone the entire way by herself. All she took when she left here was the clothes on her back, some food, money, and the courier packet, which contained sealed letters and her own papers. There were two sets of identification papers, one for a man, one for a woman, invitations, and directions. Oh, that’s when I borrowed Winston’s signet ring for her to use in case of trouble.”
“The one Alexandra returned to me?” Winston asked.
“Yes. Exactly.”
Edward absently felt for his own identical signet ring.
“She probably met up with Captain Shark somewhere, and he saw the ring, and that is why he sailed us across the channel.”
Winston arched his brows. “Do you know this man?”
“Yes. We’ve done business together. Let’s just say we respect each other, and I did bail him out of a bit of trouble once. He must have decided to repay the debt.”
Edward added, “I understand he proposed to Alexandra. She said she would marry him if I turned her down. She seemed to be very glad I didn’t.” He smiled faintly. “Sorry, Brother, your offer was next in line behind a tyrannical pirate’s.”
“Bloody hell,” Winston remarked, giving a snort.
Ashford slammed his fist on the table, and then stood. “I say, we better start searching for some jewels. If she indeed has them, she could very well have hidden them somewhere.”
“That would explain the ransacking of her room,” Winston said.
“I think we should search Chesbury Manor if nothing turns up here soon,” Ian said.
“I agree,” Edward said.
“How can I help, Edward?” Winston asked.
Ashford took charge since it was apparent Edward was faltering. “Why don’t you go search the room in which she stayed at our townhouse, Winston?” Ashford suggested. “I think I shall go speak to Lord Banks, just to make sure we’re looking in the right direction.”
Albert entered the doorway. “The detectives are here from Bow Street, Your Grace.”
“Send them in, Albert,” Ashford said. “Edward, while I’m speaking to the detectives, you and Ian should go to Chesbury Manor. We’ll meet back at Wilmington Square when you’re done.”
Chapter 34
The ride to Chesbury Manor took nearly two hours. Edward and Ian took Ashford’s ducal coach so Edward could rest. Edward’s shoulder throbbed and his energy waned. They arrived in the early afternoon. As soon as the coach halted, Edward and Ian darted into the house and down the hallway to Alexandra’s bedchamber in the south wing.
Edward was mildly curious as he entered her bedchamber. This was the brat’s room. In all his childhood years, he had never been in it. It was decorated plainly, with no ruffles or frills. Her canopied bed was covered with a simple green counterpane, and the furniture was dark mahogany. He walked over to her small dressing table next to a large window overlooking the meadows. He could envision her sitting here, preparing for her day. She would be gaz
ing into the small oval mirror which hung over the table, and then turning her head to peer out to the vistas.
“I’ll go through her wardrobe,” Ian said. “Why don’t you check in the dressing table and bureau.”
Edward sat on the small upholstered bench and pulled open a tiny drawer. Inside was a comb and brush with some strands of her blonde hair caught in the bristles. Edward’s heart flipped to see even a strand of her hair. There were also ribbons and pins, a small hand mirror, but nothing consequential. Oddly, in a far corner he found a small dagger.
“Any sign of anything?” he asked Ian.
“Not yet,” he replied.
Edward moved to the bureau on the adjacent wall. In the top drawer, there was a stack of letters tied in a white ribbon. The letters had his handwriting. She had saved his letters, he realized. His chest tightened.
“You know, Edward,” Ian said, looking over at him, “she would never let us have your letters. She insisted on saving every one herself.” Then he added poignantly, “You were the only one she loved more than me.”
Edward looked up at him, his face full of amazement. “Did you mind?”
“Not really,” he smiled, “because I always knew she loved me a whole lot, and as twins we have a unique relationship anyway.” Then he added fondly, “Besides, I didn’t want to marry her.”
“But we couldn’t tolerate each other. We fought every time we were together. How could she have loved me?”
Ian shook his head. “I know it doesn’t make sense. But she was actually devastated every time you quarreled. It was why I even allowed her to impersonate me. It was a way she could be with you without you both ripping each other’s eyes out.” He chuckled. “Apparently, I didn’t stir up the same passions in you that she did.”
“There were times I did wonder if you were ever going to grow a beard.” Edward replied. His mouth twitched.
Ian snorted. “Well, it finally grew in. Although I made sure to keep it shaved very closely when you were at home.”
Leigh Sparrow Page 19
