Fall From Grace

by Wendy Soliman

  ‘Oh, I am absolutely sure that I shall,’ he replied, looking straight at Miranda as he spoke.

  Once again the bodies parted by unspoken agreement as Jake’s party made for the door. No one attempted to prevent them. Thorndike however did catch Jake’s arm and told him that he would offer any assistance necessary. Jake nodded curtly, having no intention of taking him up on his offer. He knew that if he did so he would never be free of the man’s tenacious clutches.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Megan felt deeply disturbed by the turn events had taken. She was not a dimwit and had already realised that this ruse was an attempt to capture her as well as Sebastian. And Olivia, in offering the hand of friendship to a stranger in need, had placed herself in a perilous situation she could not have anticipated. Poor Lord Torbay. He sat across from her as his carriage moved at speed towards Cheyne Walk, looking grimly resolute. A dark and dangerous aura clung to him, almost frightening in its intensity. She wanted to say something to reassure him but couldn’t find the right words. She felt the empty space where Olivia had sat on the outward journey. It was a taunting reminder that she did not belong amongst these elegant people and had brought them nothing but problems.

  She dashed a tear aside, determined to remain strong in the face of adversity. Charles noticed and smiled at her.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘Sebastian won’t be harmed. Upon that you have my solemn assurance.’

  She tried to offer an answering smile but her lips wouldn’t comply and remained stubbornly straight. Instead she was almost reduced to fresh tears by his kindness. Kindness that she didn’t deserve.

  ‘The house will be under observation,’ Lord Torbay said, breaking his silence as their conveyance turned into Cheyne Walk. ‘Charles and I will escort you inside, Lady Cantrell, since the watchers will expect us to go in and see if Olivia has returned. We will come out again almost immediately, giving the impression that we are going to look for Olivia and leaving you unprotected.’

  ‘But where…’ She swallowed her anguish, surprised that he seemed so relatively unconcerned about his future wife’s wellbeing when she knew just how ardently he loved her. It showed in his every movement, his every gesture, whenever he was in her company. ‘Where shall you be?’

  ‘Charles and I will be going to fetch Olivia home,’ he replied calmly.

  Megan widened her eyes. ‘You know where she is and who took her?’

  He nodded, such violent anger swirling in the depths of his eyes that she was glad it wasn’t directed at her. ‘When this business is resolved the rogues will regret the day they were born.’

  Megan shuddered, not doubting it for a moment.

  The carriage halted at the door to Olivia’s establishment. Charles alighted, helped Megan down and escorted her to the door with Lord Torbay on their heels. It was opened by Green before they reached it. Inside, Charles briefly touched Megan’s face, obliging her to quell her answering desire to be held in his arms, to be comforted by him and…God help her inconstant heart, more.

  ‘Stay calm, my dear,’ he said.

  Parker appeared and he and Lord Torbay entered into an animated discussion. Megan could see just how affected Parker was by the news of Olivia’s abduction. She wanted to tell him that his place was with Lord Torbay. It was equally obvious that that was where he would prefer to be but she didn’t have the courage to disobey Lord Torbay’s instructions and suggest that he go. She had Sebastian’s welfare to consider and they couldn’t know how many people would be sent to abduct him.

  ‘A change of plan,’ Parker said to Charles in a tone that brooked no argument. ‘Your hat and cloak, if you please, my lord.’

  Charles grinned and handed over the garments while Megan watched on in confusion. Parker quickly donned Charles’s hat and evening cape, and actually winked at Megan as he left the house in Lord Torbay’s wake.

  ‘Whatever…?’ She blinked up at Charles, completely taken aback.

  His smile was soft, reckless almost, and so full of confidence that Megan felt safe in a situation that was fraught with danger. Why did men enjoy fighting quite so much, she wondered with annoyance. Luke had been the same and look how that had ended.

  ‘You didn’t really imagine that I would risk leaving your protection to anyone else, did you?’ Charles replied to her question. ‘Not even Parker.’

  ‘But I…what? I don’t understand.’

  ‘Oh, I think you do. You’re just not ready to make that admission.’

  As though reading her earlier thoughts, his arms closed around her and she fell helplessly into them, resting the side of her face against his broad shoulder and closing her eyes in weary capitulation. Just for a moment.

  ‘This is wrong,’ she said without much conviction in her tone.

  ‘It’s certainly the wrong time and place,’ he said with a protracted sigh. ‘But that’s the only part of our behaviour that is misplaced. I have been fighting against…but, as I say, now isn’t the time. Come, we must prepare ourselves to entertain our guests.’

  Megan’s head whirled as Charles interrogated Green, ascertaining that the cook and maids were safely ensconced in the servants’ quarters. Green was then told to extinguish the remaining lamp in the drawing room and retire himself.

  ‘Remain in your quarters, Green,’ Charles said firmly. ‘No one is to leave their rooms, no matter what they hear. Am I clear?’

  ‘As crystal, my lord. Besides, at my age I would be more of a hindrance than a help.’

  Franklin and Finch had arrived and awaited Charles’s orders.

  ‘Lady Cantrell is going up to the nursery and will remain there with her son. We are expecting one or two people to break in and they will do so within the next half-hour.’ Charles went on to explain what had happened to Olivia and that the men working for the Cantrells couldn’t afford to wait once they were satisfied that everyone had retired for fear that Jake might return at any moment.

  ‘They will come through the kitchen door,’ Charles said, leaving Finch in the vestibule and taking Franklin with him to that room, a single dim lantern lighting their path. They concealed themselves, weapons at the ready. ‘Wait until we know how many of them there are before we move,’ Charles said. ‘I will give the signal.’

  They settled down as best they could, each minute seeming like an hour. His limbs cramped, Charles pulled the watch from his waistcoat pocket and shone the lantern on it to see the time.

  ‘Twenty minutes since Jake left,’ he said softly to Franklin. ‘They won’t leave it much longer.’

  No sooner had Charles spoken than they heard a twig snap beneath a foot immediately outside the window and then a soft curse. Charles’s pulse quickened as he extinguished his lantern. A career diplomat more accustomed to negotiation than confrontation, he was still able to take care of himself in the protection of the lady who had come to mean so much to him. It was thoughts of Megan’s vulnerability and the unfairness of her situation that bolstered his determination as he heard something being jiggled in the lock. A moment later the door swung open and he sensed rather than saw a pair of large feet step cautiously into the kitchen. A second man followed and then the cold that had swept in with the opening of the door was cut off again as it was softly closed.

  Charles had been right. There were just the two of them and they would have to risk a lamp in order to find their way in the unfamiliar house without crashing into the furniture and alerting the household to their presence in it.

  ‘I don’t like this,’ one man whispered in a rough voice. ‘It’s too easy.’

  ‘Hush! The woman lives alone and her paramour is chasing his tail all over London looking for her. But we don’t have much time.’

  ‘Even so. I ain’t being paid enough. No one told me it was some titled cove’s bit of skirt. That makes a difference.’

  ‘Stop bellyaching! We’re here now. It won’t take but a moment if you’ll just shut your trap and let me get me bearings.’

&nb
sp; Charles heard a flint strike. A light flared and from his position beneath the table he briefly saw a face illuminated by the flame. A face that he recognised. He’d seen the man before. He was Joseph Cantrell’s valet and right-hand man. Anger surged through Charles and he sprang from his hiding place, grabbing the man’s legs and tumbling him to the floor. The lantern fell from his hand, the flame extinguished, and the two of them grappled in the dark.

  Charles had permitted his anger to overcome patience and hadn’t warned Franklin that the time had come to attack—a stupid miscalculation. Franklin’s massive body loomed up, ready to tackle the second man. In the gloom it was impossible for Franklin to see that he held a cudgel. Charles did but his warning came too late to prevent it from being brought down over Franklin’s head with considerable force. Franklin fell to the floor with a sickening crash. The man who had attacked him, coward that he was, didn’t stop to help Cantrell’s valet overpower Charles but sprinted for the unlocked door and was lost in the fog.

  Finch pushed through the kitchen door and Charles caught a glimpse of him as he tussled with the valet, looking undecided about chasing the escapee or helping Charles.

  ‘Let him go and look after Franklin!’ Charles gasped, attempting to detach his attacker’s fingers from the tight hold they had on his throat. An attacker who appeared to have superhuman strength. A strength born of desperation since he must know what the penalty for failure would be. Finch would help him if he asked him to, but Charles didn’t require his help. He had a personal score to settle with this rogue.

  Spots danced before Charles’s eyes and he felt himself losing consciousness. Weird gasping noises emerged from his throat and he found it increasingly difficult to gulp air into his lungs. The man was going to kill him if he didn’t find a way to turn the tables on him. In one last massive effort, Charles mustered all the strength he could manage and brought his knee up into the groin of the man pinning him down and choking him. The man’s grip on Charles’s throat loosened for just long enough to enable Charles to reverse the situation. He rolled on top of the disabled valet and pummelled his face with his fist until his knuckles were bleeding and his attacker lost consciousness.

  ‘It’s over,’ he said, staggering to his feet, his voice a rasping whisper, breathing an agony. ‘How’s Franklin?’

  Finch lit a lantern and the two of them studied the inert form of Franklin, blood oozing from a gash on his head.

  ‘Tie him up,’ he said to Finch, indicating the valet’s inert form.

  Franklin stirred and Charles helped him to sit up. It was evident from his colourful language that Franklin had suffered no lasting injury to anything other than his pride. The same could be said for Charles…just. He knew that he had been lucky, very lucky, and that he’d been a hair’s breadth away from dying. Dying in protection of the woman he loved, he allowed himself to admit. It was only thoughts of her plight, the strength of his suppressed feelings for her and the problems she would encounter if he was not there to clear a path for her that had given him the will to overpower his aggressor.

  ‘Get a cloth and stem that bleeding,’ Charles said, slumping in a chair and indicating Franklin to Finch. The valet had regained consciousness and swore fit to turn the air blue. But he was securely tied to an uncomfortable wooden chair and would be going nowhere, other than gaol.

  ‘What about you, my lord?’ Finch asked. ‘That throat looks awful red.’

  ‘I’ll live,’ Charles rasped.

  He was alarmed when the green baize door slammed open and Megan flew through it.

  ‘I heard a noise and then there was nothing for so long. No one came.’ She looked wild. ‘I couldn’t bear…on my goodness!’ She fell upon Charles, almost toppling into his lap. ‘What happened? You’re hurt. Let me help you.’

  ‘Shush, it’s all right.’ He decided that as she was so close to his lap anyway, she might as well take up residence there and pulled her onto it. ‘We lost one of them, but this gentleman,’ he added derisively, nodding towards the bound man on the opposite side of the table, ‘is Joseph Cantrell’s valet, who came here to do his master’s dirty work.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Lost for words, Megan buried her face in Charles’s shoulder and burst into tears.

  ***

  Jake found Isaac waiting for them in the agreed spot. He had earlier told Jake that he would escort Eva home and then join him to rescue Olivia. He showed no surprise at Parker having taken Charles’s place.

  ‘Charles insisted upon protecting Megan in person,’ Jake said by way of explanation.

  ‘Eva told me that was the way the wind blew.’

  ‘Where do you think they’ve taken her?’ Parker asked, checking his pockets and producing an impressive array of weapons‒two daggers and a pistol, together with the cudgel he’d concealed in the folds of Charles’s cloak when he left the house.

  ‘The Hepplewaites have joined forces with the Cantrells,’ Jake snarled. ‘Thanks to Miranda’s conniving ways. She’s encouraged young Hepplewaite and he’s besotted with her.’

  ‘They have premises in Bermondsey,’ Parker said. ‘I assume that’s where we’ll find her.’

  ‘I want to think that they have too much sense to harm her,’ Jake replied, his jaw rigid. ‘But if they concocted this plan hastily then they didn’t think it through properly. If she’s detained in that part of London and in those particular premises, she will know whom they belong to. If—no, when—Cantrell fails to get his hands on Sebastian and Megan, I don’t want to think what retaliatory action he might take out of revenge, or the desire to cover his tracks.’

  ‘We’ll get there before he has a chance to do any such thing,’ Parker said, swaying in his seat as Jake’s driver took a corner faster than was wise given the foggy conditions, but not nearly fast enough to satisfy Jake.

  ‘Let’s hope so. And let’s hope even more fervently that I’m right and that’s where she is.’

  They arrived in Bermondsey and Jake’s coachman slowed to walking pace as he attempted to find the location of the premises they sought. Even inside the carriage, the noxious odour from nearby businesses was overwhelming. Poor Olivia! In her condition it would be even harder for her to tolerate it. But he couldn’t allow his thoughts to dwell upon her suffering, or they would distract him when he needed to be at his sharpest.

  ‘It isn’t safe to assume that she’s been left unprotected. Someone will be posted to watch her but she will still try to escape.’ Jake was tempted to roll his eyes. ‘You know how being taken captive will incense her.’

  The carriage came to a halt. Jake and his companions alighted and Jake told his coachman to hide the conveyance behind the buildings in an agreed spot. Stealth was called for, at least until they had located Olivia, and the presence of the carriage would give them away.

  ‘Dear God, what a stench!’ Isaac said, holding a handkerchief over his mouth and nose.

  ‘It’s this way, I think,’ Parker said, apparently oblivious to the noxious odour.

  Jake and Isaac followed in Parker’s wake, grateful to the fog for concealing them from view. No one else appeared to be abroad at such an hour, but just because Jake couldn’t see them it didn’t mean they weren’t lying in wait. He was not blind to the possibility that they were walking into a trap, but he didn’t once consider turning back. The sacrifice of his own life to save that his the woman he adored and his unborn child was a price he would pay without a second thought.

  ‘This is it,’ Parker said, pointing to a drab looking building with the name of a famous milliner dimly visible above the massive double doors.

  ‘Don’t look like anyone’s inside,’ Isaac said.

  ‘Someone has been here recently,’ Jake said, pointing to fresh horse droppings immediately outside the door.

  ‘There must be at least one night watchman,’ Parker said. ‘This place would be stripped bare if it weren’t protected.’

  ‘I wish I knew where they were keeping Olivia,’
Jake said, glancing up at the massive building that rose three stories above his head and was equally wide. ‘It could take us a month to find her.’

  ‘I’m sure the night watchman could be persuaded to conduct us to her,’ Parker said, slapping his cudgel against the palm of his hand.

  ‘Quick! A carriage,’ Isaac said.

  The three of them ducked for cover at the side of the building as a curricle driven dangerously fast approached the building. The swirling fog briefly cleared and Joseph Cantrell’s angry countenance was illuminated by the carriage’s light.

  They had come to the right place.

  ***

  Olivia was frustrated beyond reason. She thought that a millinery factory would have all sorts of useful tools lying about but she had come up empty. A hairpin applied to the lock on the desk drawers had produced what appeared to be correspondence, contracts and invoices. It was difficult to tell with no light to shine upon the subject matter. She had heard what she assumed to be a night watchman clanking about outside her door but her calls failed to elicit a response. Even if they did, she was unable to find any heavy objects with which to overpower him. Besides, if she got the better of him she would be alone in a dangerous part of London, wearing a silk ball gown, inappropriate footwear for the weather conditions and expensive jewellery. Even so, she would take her changes against robbers rather than sit passively about waiting to see what fate was in store for her.

  Poor Jake! He must be frantic with worry. She had wanted to leave some sort of clue as to her whereabouts but, apart from dropping something at the scene of her capture, there had been no opportunity. He would know she had been captured so there seemed little point in wasting her energy. Even if she’d been able to drop something outside of this building to show that she was inside it, the chances of him thinking to look for her here were incalculably slim.

  ‘We are not going to be defeated,’ she told her unborn child, placing a protective hand over her stomach.