The Mysterious Lord Marlowe

by Anne Herries

  ‘Not yet, but it is early days. If you wish, you could ask Verity for some clean clothes. I forgot that when I wrote to her.’

  ‘Verity is leaving town with her husband. I should be happy to bring them to you, if you will give me the direction of your town house so that I may fetch them.’

  ‘You should not think of coming here again, Miss Lanchester.’

  ‘I could give them to your lawyer.’

  ‘Well…’ He hesitated, then, ‘I will furnish you with the address on one condition—you ask your brother to bring the clothes. You must not risk yourself further for my sake, Miss Lanchester.’

  ‘Very well, if that is your wish. Will you not call me Jane once more, Lord George? I had thought us friends of sorts after what we’ve been through. I wish to be your friend still if you will allow it.’

  His eyes went over her. ‘Had we met in other circumstances, I should have wished for more, Jane—but I fear it is too late to hope for anything. Your brother would not tolerate such a thing and nor should he. I am ruined and I would not drag you down with me.’

  ‘I am old enough to make my own choices,’ Jane said, a stubborn note in her voice. ‘Please do not despair, my lord. I shall talk to Andrew. I am certain he will speak for you. We shall get you out of this dreadful place somehow.’

  ‘Thank you.’ George hesitated, then moved towards her, reaching for her hand. ‘I wanted to tell you that I admire you more than any woman I have ever met…’

  She moved towards him, gazing up into his face. The feeling was very strong between them and Jane’s mouth opened slightly as she anticipated his kiss. She longed for him to hold her and thought for a moment he would do so, but then he gave a muffled oath as the door of the cell opened and the gaoler beckoned to her.

  ‘You had best leave now, miss.’

  ‘Yes, I must go.’ Jane glanced at George. ‘Will you allow me to visit you again?’

  ‘It is not fitting for a girl of your good name and character. If it were known, you would be ruined. I have no wish to bring you down as well as myself, Jane.’

  She inclined her head, accepting his decision. ‘God bless and care for you, sir,’ she said, her throat tight. ‘I shall speak to my brother. I pray that we shall meet again in happier circumstances.’

  ‘Goodbye, Jane. I count it an honour to have known you.’

  She lifted her head, following the gaoler into the narrow passageway, her eyes stinging with the tears she refused to shed as the door was locked after her.

  He was such a stubborn, proud fool and she loved him so much—but this might be the last time they met. If no one spoke for him, he could be tried and condemned to the gallows.

  * * *

  ‘You did what?’ Andrew’s fury showed in his hard mouth and the glint in his eyes. ‘Jane, how could you be such a fool? If anyone saw you go to that place, your reputation will be ruined…’

  ‘Please do not scold me,’ she said, her head high. ‘I did what I considered right. Lord George saved my life—and he rescued Mariah. Had he not done so, she might still be a prisoner and I could have been dead. Are you not in the least grateful for your sister’s life?’

  Andrew stared at her in silence, then his frown relaxed and he inclined his head. ‘Of course I am grateful for what he did for you and for Mariah. He should have waited for me to go to the magistrate with him. I would have spoken for him.’

  ‘His honour prevented him from relying on you. He hoped that what he had done would be seen sympathetically, but instead he was imprisoned.’

  ‘He must have known it could happen?’

  ‘He thought to redeem himself in my eyes.’

  Andrew was silent, then, ‘What is there between you?’

  ‘Nothing but gratitude,’ Jane said, crossing her fingers as she lied. ‘I know that what he did in helping with the abduction was foolish and wrong—but perhaps it was meant to be. Had the circumstances been other than they were, I do not think I should be standing here now, Andrew.’

  ‘I should be very sorry for that,’ Andrew said and sighed. ‘Very well, I shall do what I can. The clothes and money are easy enough, but you need influence to have someone released from Newgate. I shall speak for him at his trial but I do not think I can prevent it.’

  ‘Is there no one who would help us?’

  Andrew met her troubled gaze. ‘I met Avonlea in town this morning. He has brought Lucinda up for a few days to buy some clothes she needs before it becomes difficult for her to travel. Avonlea has considerable influence. If he were persuaded that Marlowe was innocent in intent and had redeemed himself, he might be able to do the thing.’

  ‘Will you speak to him, Andrew, or shall I?’

  ‘He wanted to speak to you. I asked him to call this evening at six. You may put your plea to him then, Jane. I cannot be sure what he will say, but it is all we can do.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Jane’s smile lit her face. ‘I should be very distressed if Lord George went to the gallows, Andrew. I shall tell the duke my story and hope that he decides to take an interest.’

  * * *

  George looked up as he heard the key turn in the lock the following morning. He hoped the gaoler would bring him some decent food this time instead of the slop he had been given earlier. The food Jane had brought had sustained him thus far, but it had all gone and the thought of prison food made his stomach turn queasy. He was surprised as he saw the tall gentleman enter. Avonlea was not unknown to him, though they did not often mix in the same circles.

  ‘Your Grace.’ George inclined his head. ‘I am sorry I can offer you no refreshment worthy of the name. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?’

  ‘The eloquence of Miss Jane Lanchester,’ Avonlea replied grimly. ‘Her brother added a restrained plea on your behalf, Marlowe—but it was she who swayed me.’

  ‘Miss Lanchester would do better to deny all knowledge of me.’

  ‘I doubt she would ever do that, sir.’ The duke smiled. ‘She is a redoubtable lady and will make an excellent wife for someone, though she is fiercely independent. She is a little outspoken at times, but a good friend. First, I must ask you for your side of this story in your own words—and after that I have a few questions for you myself.’

  ‘At the start, I was told the business was an elopement, but the lady wanted a little excitement so it was to appear to be an abduction.’ George held up his hand in apology. ‘It was a foolish mistake. I should have known that a rogue like Blake was up to no good. When I realised I had been duped I made up my mind to rescue Lady Fanshawe—but then Miss Lanchester was also taken captive and it seemed prudent to rescue her first, because I believed Lady Fanshawe to be relatively safe. Besides, Miss Lanchester began her own escape and I could not leave her to hobble about the countryside alone.’

  ‘Why did you agree in the first place—was it matter of money?’

  ‘No. Blake had letters and items that did not belong to him. He could have ruined someone I care for and I was blackmailed in my turn.’

  ‘So why did you take your story to the magistrate?’

  ‘I recovered Lady Fanshawe and the letters before doing so.’ George rubbed at his shoulder, which was still a little sore. ‘Blake returned to his house as I was searching it and winged me as I escaped. I dare say he will have realised who was responsible for ransacking his house—so the game was up. I thought I had no choice but to put my case and take the consequences. Besides, the sorry business sat ill with my honour as a gentleman. I acted in the way I thought best at the time, but it was reckless and foolish.’

  ‘Yes, I see. I understand more of your feelings than you might imagine. When someone close to one is in danger or threatened, a man may do many things he would not otherwise do.’ Avonlea looked at him for a moment longer. ‘I must speak with some friends about your case. To my belief you have been wrongly imprisoned, sir. You went along with this business with the clear intention of protecting the lady in question. Had you not done so the abduct
ion would still have taken place and the rogue would have got clean away. If my word counts for anything, the case against you will be dismissed. We need your help in the continuing search for Blake.’

  ‘I give you my word that I shall leave no stone unturned in the effort to bring him to justice.’

  ‘I imagine he will come looking for you,’ the duke said, giving him a meaningful look. ‘If I get you clear, you will return to society and be seen everywhere. If anyone has got wind of this business, you will say it was all a mistake—just that, nothing more. I am asking you to become a target, Marlowe. I believe it is the only way we may trap Blake, for he is a clever devil. It is my hope that he will try to take revenge for what you have done. You will be watched and we shall do all within our power to protect you, but you could lose your life. The choice is, of course, yours.’

  ‘It is my fervent wish to do all I can to redeem myself.’

  ‘This plan to draw Blake out is a long shot,’ Avonlea said. ‘He may stay clear of London—unless we can think of a way to smoke him out of his lair.’

  ‘I could pay another visit to his house. Make certain he knows who his enemy is.’

  ‘Yes, perhaps—but you should not go alone. I shall speak to Lord Lanchester. If we can get Blake to show his hand, we may get him sooner rather than later.’

  ‘The sooner the better. No woman is truly safe while that devil walks the streets.’

  * * *

  Jane was sitting with her godmother and Andrew in the drawing room that evening when the butler announced that they had a visitor. Something made her heart catch and she gasped as Lord George walked in, looking as if he had spent the last few days buying a new wardrobe rather than languishing in prison. His blue superfine coat moulded to his shoulders in a superb fit, making her think that she had not met anyone with quite the physique of her saviour.

  ‘You will forgive this call,’ Lord George said, his eyes seeking Jane’s briefly. ‘I have been detained or I would have called sooner. Ladies, your servant—but it was Lord Lanchester I wished to see alone.’

  ‘Of course. We shall not stand on ceremony. Pray take Lord George into the back parlour, Andrew,’ Lady Mary said. ‘Before you go, sir, we intend to visit the theatre tomorrow evening—would you care to be part of the party?’

  ‘I should like it very much another time,’ George replied and once again his eyes went to Jane. ‘However, I may need to go out of town.’

  ‘Again?’ Lady Mary’s eyebrows arched. ‘You are a busy man, sir. You are forever coming and going.’

  ‘It is my hope that after this trip I shall be settled in town for a while.’

  He bowed to her, glanced at Jane once more and turned to Andrew. ‘If we could speak, sir?’

  ‘Of course.’ Andrew directed a frown at his sister. ‘I have not forgotten that we are going out later. Please excuse me for the moment.’

  ‘Dinner will be no more than twenty minutes.’ Lady Mary glanced at Lord George. ‘Can I persuade you to stay?’

  ‘I have no wish to presume on your good nature, ma’am.’

  ‘If you have no prior engagement, I insist.’

  ‘Very well.’ George smiled, his gaze once more resting on Jane. ‘I should be delighted.’

  Jane’s cheeks were a little pink as she inclined her head, then glanced at her brother.

  ‘I think I shall go upstairs for a moment,’ she announced when the gentlemen had left the room. ‘Please excuse me, Godmother.’

  ‘Yes, of course, dearest.’ Lady Mary smiled. ‘Isn’t this agreeable? Lord George is such a pleasant young man—do you not think so?’

  * * *

  Lord George left in Andrew’s company as soon as dinner was over. Andrew apologised to his sister and Lady Mary.

  ‘Forgive me, but I must cry off this evening, ladies. I find that I have business that will not wait. You must excuse me. I may be gone for a day or so.’

  ‘Now that is too bad,’ Lady Mary said. ‘We had quite settled it that you were to stay for a few days.’

  ‘I am certain Andrew’s business is important,’ Jane said. She had not missed the glance that passed between her brother and Lord George. ‘I wish you a safe journey, Brother—and you also, sir.’ Her eyes moved to Lord George as he came to take his leave of her. Her heart raced as their eyes met. In that moment she wished they were alone so that she could speak to him privately, but with Andrew’s stern gaze on her there was little to be said. ‘Take care,’ she whispered as he lifted her hand to his lips.

  ‘We shall be back before you know it,’ Andrew said, unconsciously confirming her suspicions. ‘No need to worry, Jane. Everything is under control.’

  Lady Mary’s eyes widened and she gave her goddaughter a hard stare as the two gentlemen went out.

  ‘Now what are they up to, Jane? If you know something I do not, pray enlighten me.’

  Jane hesitated. Her brother had not told Lady Mary about the abductions or the shooting in their garden or the fact that Jane’s life might still be in danger. Clearly she needed to set her godmother’s mind at rest. She spoke carefully, for she did not wish to alarm her godmother unduly, giving only the barest details and leaving out the fact that she might still be in danger.

  ‘I knew you were hiding something. Pray tell me why your brother and Lord George are leaving town together?’

  ‘I think it has something to do with the man who abducted Mariah Fanshawe and myself. Andrew is determined to bring the rogue to justice and so is Lord George.’

  ‘I can understand you brother’s involvement, but what has this affair to do with Lord George?’ Lady Mary’s brows shot up.

  ‘That I cannot tell you. No, really, I cannot, dearest Godmother. You must ask him yourself if you wish for an answer.’

  ‘I shall certainly do so when we next meet. You must know that I consider him a good match for you, Jane. His family would love to see him married—and, though you say you do not wish to wed, I fear that you will miss so much in life if you do not.’

  ‘Yes, perhaps you are right.’ Jane smiled at her, hiding the emotions that churned inside her. Her thoughts were in turmoil, for although she had quite decided not to marry, she did like Lord George so very much. If only she could be certain that he felt the same about her! ‘We should get ready if we are not to be late, Godmother.’

  ‘You are trying to change the subject, Jane.’ Lady Mary wagged a finger at her. ‘I shall allow you to do so—but please think about what I have said, dearest. It would give me such pleasure to see you happy.’

  ‘I shall think about it,’ Jane promised.

  She could think of hardly anything else these days. Indeed, she had found the idea of marriage creeping into her mind too often of late. She was too honest a girl to hide the truth from herself. Lord George had aroused feelings that she had never imagined she would experience, feelings so strong that she was hard put to conceal them from her family.

  If they had met in different circumstances, she thought that she might have been a very happy young woman. A proposal from Lord George would have brought great pleasure to both her and her family—but in the current situation Jane knew her brother would never countenance her marriage.

  No, no, she must not let herself think such thoughts. The gentleman had not given her any reason to imagine that he felt more than liking for her. Besides, everything was in such chaos.

  They were all still in danger while Blake was at large and marriage must be the last thing on Lord George’s mind just now.

  Where were her brother and Lord George going that night—and what did they intend? She prayed that it was not as dangerous as she feared.

  ‘Please keep them both safe,’ she murmured as she went to tidy herself before leaving for their evening engagement. ‘I would not have either of them come to harm.’

  * * *

  ‘Your plan is to search the house again, and you wish Blake to see you—do I have that correct?’

  They had been riding throug
hout the night and for much of the day, stopping to rest their horses when necessary. During the journey, George had explained that he wanted to confront Blake face to face if it were possible, hoping to draw his fire.

  ‘I have not yet recovered a diamond brooch he stole from someone dear to me. I do not expect to find it and indeed I would not bother to search for something I imagine has been sold. Avonlea suggested another search in the hope of drawing Blake’s fire. You will remain outside the house, Lanchester. If you hear shots, use your own judgement.’

  ‘It may be too late by then,’ Andrew replied. ‘Blake will kill you if he can. Avonlea told you that I should watch your back and that is just what I shall do. No arguments, Marlowe. We are in this together. I am determined that Blake shall not escape justice. He deserves to hang for what he did to Lady Fanshawe—and my sister, though Jane has taken it in her stride, of course.’

  ‘Miss Lanchester is a very brave and sensible woman, but her fate might have been otherwise. Had things gone badly, Blake might have murdered her and disposed of her body. I believe him to be quite ruthless.’

  Andrew frowned. ‘I know my obligation to you, sir. All the more reason why I should accompany you into the house. I should not forgive myself if I stood by while that rogue murdered you.’

  ‘Very well, two of us are better than one,’ George said. ‘If anything should happen to me, you will tell Jane that I have done all I could to put right the wrong I was party to?’

  ‘I believe she already knows,’ Andrew said, a thoughtful expression on his face. ‘We must hope that Blake is still in residence. It is possible that he has found a new hole to hide in.’

  * * *

  ‘Someone is in the house,’ George said as they saw the light in a room at the back. ‘It seems foolish to waste time searching the house. If he is here, we should confront him and offer him a chance to give himself up.’

  ‘And if he will not come quietly?’

  ‘There are two of us. We should make him our prisoner and then let Avonlea deal with him. I dare say Lady Fanshawe will wish to testify against the rogue.’