My kind of scoundrel, p.22
My Kind of Scoundrel, page 22
“I doubt she will wait around once she sees us,” Theo said. “If we visit her at home, her father will ensure she never speaks to us again.”
Mr Gibbs scratched his head while observing Eleanor’s figure. “Happen you’re a similar height and build as Miss Franklin. And I saw a row of wigs upstairs. If you wore a disguise, you could get close enough to speak to her before she scarpers. Give her a reason to hear what you’ve got to say.”
Eleanor looked at Theo. “It might work. If we threaten to reveal her secrets, we might convince her to confess.” Confess to what? Eleanor had no clue. “It’s worth a try.”
Theo’s face was a picture of unease. “You’re not going alone.”
Her heart swelled at his concern for her welfare. “I could dress you in simple clothes and give you a flat cap. Jules could lend you his barrow.”
“I’m not pushing a barrow around Hyde Park.”
Eleanor chuckled. “If you want to come, you’ll have to wear a wig and an oversized greatcoat.”
Eleanor arrived at Hyde Park ten minutes early. She stood before the naked statue of Achilles, a grand monument to the Duke of Wellington, praying she looked remotely like Miss Franklin.
Miss Franklin rarely stood still, so Eleanor paced back and forth, wringing her hands and keeping her head slightly bowed. Few women gazed at the statue. Some had swooned before the sculptor covered Achilles’ genitals with a bronze fig leaf. But the statue was close to the gate, quite convenient for a lady who did not wish to be seen by the masses.
Theo ambled along the path behind a row of trees, pausing every few steps to ensure all was well. Looking menacing in a black wig and an enormous coat, people saw him and walked the other way.
In the distance, the bells of St George’s chimed the hour.
Long minutes passed before Eleanor spotted Lady Lucille Bowman strolling through the gates, her pretty parasol shielding her profile.
Eleanor turned her back, keen to draw the lady closer.
“What do you want, Anna?” Lady Lucille stopped behind Eleanor and tapped her shoulder. “We agreed not to meet again. We cannot be seen together in public. It won’t help my case if the inspector from the bank comes knocking.”
Taking a calming breath, Eleanor faced the lady hiding beneath the parasol. “I’m afraid Anna couldn’t come today. She was hurt in a robbery at the silversmith shop last night.”
Lady Lucille jerked in horror. Her pretty eyes darted over Eleanor’s dark hair and face in a look of utter disbelief. “Miss Darrow?”
“Forgive the deception, but I had to speak to you and knew you would not meet willingly.” When the lady paled and couldn’t form an articulate word, Eleanor added, “I know you stole my diary.” Anna Franklin lacked the courage to break into a person’s home. “I know you pushed me down the stairs to avoid detection. You hired men to follow us. You’ve been paying Lord Wrotham’s debts. We have the solicitor’s statement and those of his creditors.”
The last comment sparked a reaction. “Now I know you’re lying. A solicitor must keep his client’s confidence.”
“Ordinarily, but the Home Secretary gave me a letter forcing your solicitor to comply.” She reached into her reticule and showed Lady Lucille the document. “As you can see, your business dealings are a matter of national interest. Tell me your secret, or I shall have no choice but to visit you at home.”
Eleanor expected a verbal attack—the bite of a viper—but the lady’s hand shook violently, and her voice broke. “Stop this. You don’t know what trouble it will cause. It will be the death of me. I beg you. Walk away. Pretend I never asked you to deliver my silly notes.”
Paying a fiancé’s debts hardly warranted this reaction. It confirmed what Eleanor already knew, that they were unaware of the real problem.
Eager to ensure no one discovered the truth, Lady Lucille exclaimed, “Has a man ever hurt you, Miss Darrow? Has he ever treated you like your life doesn’t matter? If so, I beg you to show mercy and forget everything you have learned.”
Bitter memories of her father flooded Eleanor’s mind. The times he had forced her to stay awake all night because her stitches weren’t straight. The times she had cried herself to sleep believing she was wicked.
Being kindhearted, Eleanor’s resolve faltered. “There are good people in this world. Trust me. Tell me what you’ve done, and I will help you.”
Lady Lucille dabbed tears from her eyes. “No one can help me. The damage is done. I only pray that my actions have prevented a catastrophe.”
Good grief. She made it sound like the world was ending.
Whatever her troubles, Lord Wrotham had caused them.
“A man attacked me in my yard and forced me to deliver secret messages.” Eleanor shivered at the memory. The fiend’s grip had left bruises. “I was given books and told to hide notes behind the bookplates. Every volume in Lord Wrotham’s library bears the same plates.” She went on to tell a harmless lie. “I enquired at the printers. It’s an exclusive design.”
The lady swallowed hard. “That has nothing to do with me.”
“But it does. You borrowed the Vampyre from Pickering’s library, aware the note was inside.” She hadn’t loaned the other books, probably because her suspicions had been confirmed. “You knew Lord Wrotham had hurt me and wanted to be sure. You know why, yet you let me live in fear. Don’t expect sympathy when we’ve been hurt by the same man.”
That’s when recognition dawned.
When a terrible sense of foreboding churned in her stomach.
The dreadful certainty that something wicked had unfolded.
“What if Lord Wrotham hired men to hurt Miss Franklin?” A picture of the scene flashed into her mind. Now she thought of it, there was something organised about the chaos. “She was bludgeoned with a candlestick. If she doesn’t recover, your fiancé as good as murdered her.”
As if about to wretch, Lady Lucille slapped her hand to her mouth. “No. Anna does not deserve this. None of us do. She risked everything to tell me the truth.”
“It’s about time you told us the truth,” Theo said, joining Eleanor. “This game has gone on for long enough.”
It took Lady Lucille a moment to recognise Theo. “Game? Do you think I gain any pleasure from this? If the truth comes to light, I will be transported.”
Eleanor gasped. “Transported? What have you done?”
The lady hung her head and cried. “I’m guilty of nothing but naivety. I’m like all the other foolish chits who believe titled men are moral.”
Theo released a weary sigh. “Despite our differences, we’re willing to help you.”
She looked at him through teary eyes. “Unless you plan to kill Lord Wrotham, I see no other way you can help.”
Kill Lord Wrotham?
Her situation must be dire.
“We’ll not commit a crime.” Eleanor glanced at Theo. She had everything to live for now. Every reason to believe they could be happy. “But Mr Chance and his brothers could use the information against Lord Wrotham. He does not need to know it came from you.”
Theo cursed under his breath. “If I find out Wrotham hurt Miss Darrow in her yard, he’ll not walk without the aid of a stick.”
The lady sniffed back more tears. “Why would you want to help me when I used you so cruelly? Wrotham hates you so much he relished stealing me away.”
“We met twice,” Theo said, his tone indifferent. “I had selfish reasons for wanting to court you, too.” He reached for Eleanor’s hand and clasped it tightly. “But I’m in love with Miss Darrow. Love has a way of softening one’s heart.”
Eleanor’s heart swelled in her chest.
Theo wasn’t ashamed to voice his feelings.
“Whatever you have done, my lady, it’s helped us to realise what we mean to each other.” She couldn’t help but smile. “But we must put this dreadful business behind us. We have all made mistakes.”
Lady Lucille looked at them with utter astonishment. “I encouraged Anna to steal your diary and the book hidden beneath your floorboards. She took the spare key from the drawer, had a copy made and entered the night you went to the Olympic. You have every reason to despise us both.”
“I’m sure you were quite desperate at the time.” Eleanor wanted to feel a burst of anger, a rage to make Lucifer quake, but she didn’t. “Though I cannot understand why Anna would upend furniture and pull everything off the shelves.”
“That wasn’t Anna,” the lady declared. “She swears the rooms were like that when she arrived.”
“But I was away for two hours at most.” She had gone straight to the Olympic and had arrived home to find the place in disarray. “Whoever it was must have been looking for my diary.” Why hadn’t Mr Franklin seen anything? He was forever watching the street. “Was it Anna who pushed me down the stairs?”
The lady frowned. “Why would Anna want to hurt you?”
Eleanor’s head throbbed. But at least she knew who had been rooting under the floorboards. “The question we need to ask is, who hurt Anna? Mr Franklin is pedantic when it comes to protecting his property. He’ll be annoyed he didn’t confront the blackguards.”
How had he not heard the intruders?
He watched the street with a hawk’s intensity.
Surely Anna went in search of her brother before—
The blood in her veins froze.
Logic offered an alternative option. One that beggared belief. One her heart fought to reject but her mind could not.
“Why would Anna help you?” Eleanor said, wondering how they had formed a bond when they were nothing alike. “What is this truth she told you? Does it in any way relate to Mr Franklin? Might he have hurt Anna?”
Theo jerked his head. “Franklin? I’ve spent years studying gambling men. I know the truth when I see it. Franklin appeared distraught when speaking about his sister today.”
Yes, his tears were genuine, his pain quite evident.
But Lady Lucille was quick to reveal the true nature of Mr Franklin’s character. “Appearances can be deceptive. The man has ruined my life. He is cold and calculating and obsessed with ideas of grandeur.”
Eleanor was taken aback. She knew the polite man who showed her every consideration, the hardworking man, the caring citizen.
“I thought Wrotham had ruined your life,” Theo said, confused.
“They both have.”
Theo could not keep his frustration at bay. “You’re not making any sense. Stop being evasive. Tell us the truth, or we shall have no choice but to mention your involvement to the magistrate at Bow Street. I doubt your father would be pleased to know you aided a thief.”
Knowing her back was to the wall, Lady Lucille gripped her pretty parasol and said, “Can I trust you? I have unwittingly committed a crime much worse than aiding a thief. Wrotham used me.” Hatred dripped from those last three words. “He doesn’t care if I hang.”
“You have no choice but to trust us,” Eleanor said, fearing Anna was at home with the person who’d hurt her. “Too many people know of your involvement. It’s only a matter of time before Mr Franklin tries to silence you, too.”
The lady contemplated her dilemma.
But realised she had no choice but to confess.
“It all began during one of my dress fittings. Bored, Wrotham visited the silversmith shop and somehow forged a bond with Mr Franklin.” She angled her parasol, hiding from those out for an afternoon stroll. “Wrotham’s father cut his allowance after a string of poor investments.”
“How do you know this?” Theo said, sounding suspicious.
“Anna told me everything. She’s been spying on her brother for the last six months. It’s why I had my father insist on a long engagement. I wanted to be sure Wrotham’s affairs were in order.”
“I doubt Wrotham will ever get his affairs in order.”
Theo was right. Based on his list of creditors, Lord Wrotham was a wastrel. Some members of the aristocracy saw it as their right to take what they wanted and never pay.
“He appealed to his father for funds, but the request was denied. I can only think that’s what spurred him to lunacy. That, and the fact he believes he’s above the law.”
She had not told them anything useful or alluded to what criminal deed the men had committed. What would Lord Wrotham want with a silversmith? What crime carried a penalty of transportation?
Only one sprang to mind—forgery.
Eleanor stood for a moment, her mind working to fill in the missing details. Was Mr Franklin making worthless sovereigns? That would hardly generate the kind of money Lord Wrotham needed. Were they printing notes? If so, was Lady Lucille guilty of uttering?
“Then I assume he is working with Mr Franklin to replace his allowance.” Eleanor could not believe they would be so stupid.
The guilty parties could receive the death penalty. The unwitting players could be transported for fourteen years.
Lady Lucille stepped closer, tears filling her eyes. “Miss Darrow, they are making plates to print notes and delivering them to a partner in Birmingham. Wrotham is responsible for delivery but uses others to carry out his criminal deeds.” The lady clutched her chest. “I have made such a delivery on his behalf, on the way to visit my aunt in Chester. It’s why I paid his bills. I’m terrified he’ll use forged notes and I’ll be implicated. I only know because Anna told me everything. ”
And now Anna was injured and unconscious.
Had she confronted her brother?
“I knew nothing about their nefarious deeds.” The lady gulped hard as tears slipped down her cheeks. “Like you, I am an innocent party.”
“Like me?” Eleanor’s heart pounded so wildly she thought she might swoon. “What has this to do with me?”
Panic flared in Theo’s eyes. “You’ve got three seconds to explain how Miss Darrow is involved.”
The answer came to Eleanor in a blinding light seconds before Lady Lucille said, “Mr Franklin didn’t want Wrotham collecting the plates from the silversmith shop. Wrotham parks on Water Lane and collects them from Miss Darrow’s coal shed.”
Her vision blurred as the news hit like a hard blow.
She shuddered as if hearing the fiend’s vile threats.
If you tell anyone, you’ll die.
The villain’s voice was coarse. It couldn’t have been Lord Wrotham because he would struggle to disguise his eloquence. Her attacker was larger than the scrawny lord. Somehow, the devil had obtained a key because he had entered her bedchamber in the dead of night.
Eleanor froze in horror. Mr Franklin had attacked her in the yard. He’d put his grubby hands all over her body. He’d stood watching her at night.
“So, the notes in the book were a way of getting rid of Miss Darrow,” Theo said, a stab of anger in his voice. “They sent her on a goose chase while using her premises to defraud the banks.”
“Do you see why I was reluctant to tell you?” Fear tinged the lady’s blue eyes. “Wrotham will deny everything and blame the Franklins. We’re both friends with Anna. It will look like we conspired together.”
“Trust me,” Theo said, his expression as dark as the bowels of hell. “Wrotham will be dead before he can make any accusations. You need to visit the office of the Order in Hart Street and have Lucius Daventry take your statement. He will assist us in bringing the real culprits to justice.”
“Mr Daventry is a defender of the law,” Eleanor added. “He will protect your identity. You have my word.”
The lady’s countenance brightened. “I shall go there directly.” She paused. “There is something else.”
“Yes?” Eleanor said.
“Wrotham is meeting Mr Franklin tonight. Since you’ve hired a man to guard your premises, they cannot leave the plates in your coal shed. They’re making the exchange at midnight on the north side of Blackfriars Bridge. Anna read a note from Wrotham and sent word with a penny boy.”
“Tonight?” There was a hint of excitement in Theo’s voice. “Then there’s no time to dally. It’s imperative we catch them in the act.”
A faint smile touched the lady’s lips. “Do you really think we might bring an end to this nightmare, Mr Chance? I must admit, I had given up hope.”
Theo gave a devilish grin. “Madam, nothing would give me greater pleasure than seeing my cousin rot in a dank cell. Daventry never fails. Come tomorrow, we will all be rid of Wrotham for good.”
Chapter Twenty
From Eleanor’s dark bedchamber, Theo watched the silversmith shop through a gap in the curtains. Fog crept from the river like a silent thief, its ghostly tendrils curling around buildings and drifting through the streets.
“If Franklin doesn’t leave soon, I’ll lose sight of his premises.”
While Daventry hid near Blackfriars Bridge with Aramis and Christian, Sigmund watched Wrotham’s abode from an unmarked carriage.
Aaron moved closer to the window. “Perhaps I should wait outside on the street. Franklin doesn’t know me, and I’m skilled at keeping to the shadows.”
“We can’t risk losing each other,” Eleanor said.
“We’ll stick to the plan unless the fog becomes so thick I cannot see.” Upon sensing movement in the darkness, Theo narrowed his gaze. So far, he’d spotted nothing but drunkards and vagabonds. If only the gas lamp shone directly outside Franklin’s door.
Aaron paced the floor. He was always calm under pressure, but the reason for his agitation became apparent. “I’ve waited a lifetime to punish the Earl of Berridge. That devil left four boys to sleep on the street. Nothing will please me more than seeing his son bound in chains.”
Theo would count his blessings once Wrotham was stripped of his title and punished for forgery. He was wise enough to know the blame would probably rest at Franklin’s door. Still, he hoped Wrotham would get his just deserts.
Eleanor had other concerns. “I pray Anna will make a full recovery. We should enter the house when Mr Franklin departs and ensure she is well.”
