The Lord’s Desperate Pledge Read online

  It had taken nearly a year to trace Nancy Manton. He knew from passenger lists that a certain Lady Judith Carradine, now known to him as Nancy, had traveled to England. He’d thought he’d find her retired in the English countryside, living on her ill-gotten gains. He meant to take it all from her by way of blackmail. But then, he discovered she ran a gambling concern. It was all too perfect. It was all too easy.

  He’d planned to make a large profit and then slip off somewhere.

  Now, he had a lady and a gentleman, not just a gentleman, a lord, locked in the attic. And not just any lord—this lord was Dembly’s spawn. That particular duke, if he were to ever encounter Mr. Shine after that long-ago card game at that long-ago house party, might very well hold a grudge.

  There was only one thing to do. He must collect the bank and be off. He would have to overcome his business partner and dispose of her, which he was fully prepared to do. She would no doubt even now be at the doors to the gaming room, wondering why they were locked and wishing to see about Miss Farnsworth. She would never see the heavy candlestick to the back of her head coming, then it was a haul down to the basement for her. All would assume it had been she that had cleared out the bank and been off.

  There was still time to save himself, but he must act quickly before Nancy Manton raised an alarm.

  *

  Hayes had lowered himself out the window. He let go of the casement and fell the four remaining feet, landing with a thud. He hoped that thud had not been heard, but there was no time to consider it.

  He motioned to Miss Farnsworth, who now peered down at him with wide eyes. He wondered if she’d be able to go through with it. It was one thing to say one could do a thing, and quite another to actually do it.

  She suddenly disappeared from view. Hayes held his breath. Was she too frightened? Or worse, had Shine come back?

  Just as suddenly, her skirts came into view as she let herself out of the window.

  She would do it. The brave girl would do it. Of course she would, only that afternoon had she not saved the young urchin from Lady Jersey’s butler?

  Hayes forced himself to ignore first one pretty stockinged leg and then the other, hanging above him just now. Miss Farnsworth had lowered herself out and hung onto the casement by her fingers. He reached up and grasped her about the waist.

  “Let go,” he said quietly.

  She hesitated for a moment, though Hayes knew she could not hold on for long. She released the casement and fell upon him.

  Chapter Ten

  Mr. Shine hurried through the gaming room, picking up a candlestick as he went, and unlocked the door. He cautiously opened it, prepared with a story about the locked door and the missing Miss Farnsworth and Lord Ashworth. He would say he did not know how the door had become locked, a servant must have inadvertently done it.

  Where were Lord Ashworth and Miss Farnsworth? Taking air in the back garden. Perhaps she ought to go see what they were about going out there alone.

  She would turn her back to him to make her way there, and he would dispatch her and lock her in the room until he could get rid of the servants.

  To his surprise, the corridor was empty. She was nowhere in sight and the servants were gone too. Perhaps Nancy Manton had forgot all about her little charge and had retired? It had often been her habit to be abed as quick as she could, and a habit to dismiss the servants too. They would have been told to come early on the morrow to clear up the debris from the evening’s entertainments.

  Mr. Shine smiled. Nothing could be easier than to open the room that held the bank and be off. Weeks ago, he’d dosed Nancy’s tea with laudanum and changed the locks as one of his first orders of business upon installing himself in the house. He would collect the money and be on his way. It was, perhaps, unfortunate that Nancy would live to tell the tale and likely send eyes looking for him, but nobody would know a thing about it until the morrow. It was enough time to get well away. He had a notion to try his luck in South America. There was gold there, and diamonds even. He was growing tired of cards—there was no security in it.

  He hurried down the hall to the room that held the bank chest. The door to the room had long ago been replaced with a more formidable version—it was solid oak, four inches thick, and swung open silently on well-oiled hinges.

  As he unlocked the cabinet that held the chest, he smiled. Poor Nancy would find herself in a fix on the morrow. All her money gone and two customers locked above stairs. She’d be ruined. For that matter, Miss Farnsworth would be ruined too—no lady would be able to explain her way out of an evening alone with a man.

  “Serves her right for interfering with me,” he said softly.

  Mr. Shine pulled out the chest. It was heavier than he expected, which was a very good sign. He placed it on the desk and hurriedly opened the lock. Bank notes were before him, all he need do was transfer them to a more suitable case. A person traveling round with a chest such as this would be robbed within a day.

  He jogged out of the room and into the breakfast parlor. There was a case below the sideboard that was meant to hold the silver that would do just fine. It was plain and did not announce itself as anything extraordinary.

  Back in the bank room, Mr. Shine swept up the notes. His knuckles grazed something hard.

  He slowly moved the notes aside, a feeling of trepidation stealing over him. A set of bricks stared back at him.

  In the succeeding seconds, he felt his face turn to fire, as if it would alight on its own. The blocks of stone seemed to look back at him with disdain, as if they mocked him.

  The bank was gone. How could that be? Had they been robbed while he’d been otherwise occupied? Had Nancy Manton been so foolish as to forget to secure the room? He would beat her senseless if that was the case.

  He grabbed a candle and raced up the stairs to Nancy’s room. There was no light coming from under the door. He banged on the door and got no answer. He tried the door handle. It was unlocked.

  Throwing it open, he looked about. There was no sign of the woman. The bed was still made, the fire cold. The usual accoutrements of a dressing table had fled. He checked the wardrobe. There were still dresses there, but they were not her best. He knew well enough it was a sign of a hasty packing. A sign of somebody in a hurry, who wished to slip away with what they could carry. He had done it himself enough times to know.

  She was gone. Nancy Manton had stolen the bank. She had robbed him. She had fled with the money.

  He slowly sat down on a chintz chair. How did he not guess she would do it? He had been convinced she was in his power, that she would not dare an escape. That she was too settled to consider moving on. He had been wrong. What could he do now?

  If he would avoid ruin entirely, he must develop a plan. And he must do so quickly.

  Where would she go? Was there a chance of catching her? She couldn’t have been gone long, no more than an hour. If he caught her, he’d wring her neck and pry the money from her cold, dead hands.

  Mr. Shine leapt up from the chair and raced down the stairs. He would find out from the old porter when she had left and which direction she’d traveled. He might be able to catch her yet.

  He flung open the foyer. It was empty. The man was gone.

  Mr. Shine kicked the wall. He must catch her!

  Perhaps he could take Ashworth’s horse and just choose a direction out of the city, depending on lady luck to guide him.

  No. It would be stupid to even try it. It would only waste time. He suspected she’d head for a port, but he could not fathom which port or where she would set sail to. Back to America? To the Continent? Did she head for a port this moment? Or did she closet herself away in some rented hidey-hole? He could not chase after her on only a guess when that guess was so likely to be wrong. The odds were against him and he never flouted the odds.

  What did he have to work with? She had not been able to take the house with her, but how was he to keep it and carry on with the business when he’d got two swe
lls locked in the attic? In fact, those two were currently his only assets. It was not much, it was not at all what he wanted, but it was what he’d got.

  As he had so often done in his career, Mr. Shine rubbed his chin, thinking of how to work with what he’d got.

  First, he must bind and gag them so there was no chance of escape and no chance of them calling out for help. He would send a ransom note for Lord Ashworth—certainly the duke would let go of a considerable amount to retrieve his eldest son. No need for the old sot to realize that the fellow so genially relieving his purse was the same that had relieved purses at a long-ago house party. It had amused him that Lord Ashworth had known his name, but had not known of that circumstance. Father and son could put the whole thing together at their leisure, once he was safely gone from the scene.

  The ransom note delivered, he would instruct a drop off of money late tomorrow night. That would give the old duke time to confirm that his son had in fact gone missing and gather the funds necessary. He would move Ashworth’s horse to some far away stable so that it would appear that he’d left the gambling establishment and met with disaster on the road somewhere. Then, he would open the doors for gambling on the morrow’s evening as if all was as it should be, only claiming that Lady Carradine had gone off to tend to a sick relative.

  What of Miss Farnsworth? She was another matter—would there be a hue and cry over her whereabouts when she did not arrive home? Yes, he supposed so. The only thing going for him there was that the girl was under the protection of Mrs. Hemming. He did not think the lady particularly clever or resourceful. He’d invent a mysterious woman, a titled lady, who had taken Miss Farnsworth to the country. Mrs. Hemming might just believe it. That particular ruse would not hold long, but it would hold long enough. In any case, once Miss Farnsworth was located, would Mrs. Hemming really advertise that her niece had been alone for so long with Lord Ashworth? He thought not.

  All questions satisfactorily answered, he would proceed to use the marked cards. If all went well, he would win a large amount. Late in the night, he would make his way to the drop off he’d directed to the duke and collect a further large amount for the lord’s safe return. In place of the money, he would leave the lord’s location, as he would have instructed in the ransom note. Then, he would slip into the shadows and lay low for a few months. He’d establish a new identity and make his way to South America.

  He must move quickly and decisively.

  He dashed down to the kitchens for rags and then rummaged the house for rope. He’d finally settled on the heavy weaved wool bands that held back the curtains in various bedchambers.

  As he prepared to mount the stairs to the attic, Mr. Shine paused. Like any plan hastily formed, he’d almost forgotten an important detail. Miss Farnsworth’s carriage was due to arrive at two o’clock. It was minutes to the appointed hour and would likely be there even now. He must get rid of it.

  *

  Lily had found herself on the balcony below the window, crashed atop Lord Ashworth. He gently lifted her up, set her on her feet, and whispered in her ear.

  “Below is a portico. I will go first and you will come after me, just as you have done. Do not lose courage.”

  She nodded, willing to follow the lord’s direction. He might hope she had courage to lose, but the truth was, Lily was terrified. She was certain Mr. Shine would make himself known at any moment. They might have got out of the attics, but they were still well in range of a pistol shot.

  Lord Ashworth climbed over the balcony railing and jumped to the portico. Lily was glad he was so tall—a shorter man might have broken a leg.

  She peered over and saw his face upturned to hers, his arms up to catch her. She quickly turned and climbed over, determinedly pushing away the idea that Mr. Shine might suddenly appear at the window above her.

  Lily felt the lord’s hands on her hips. She let go of the railing.

  Lord Ashworth eased her down with strength and she did not collapse upon him as she’d done the first time. He motioned to a sturdy branch that grazed the corner of the portico’s roof. She had not climbed a tree since she was a girl, but she would do anything to get away from this place.

  They moved quietly and quickly to the edge of the roof.

  Below them, a door banged open.

  Lord Ashworth grabbed her arm and stopped her progress. He laid his forefinger against her lips.

  The lord crouched down and pulled her down with him.

  “You there,” a man called from below.

  It was Mr. Shine. Lily felt the blood drain from her face. Could he see her? How could he know that she was just above his head?

  “What do you still do here?” Mr. Shine went on. “Miss Farnsworth was taken away by Lady Marchelan over an hour ago.”

  Her carriage! Lily had forgotten about her carriage. Her aunt had sent Pips to collect her. The maid would realize that something happened to her. Pips would not be put off.

  Lily heard Pips’ voice in reply. “Are you certain?” she asked. “We were told to wait here and Lady Carradine was to put me in possession of Miss Farnsworth.”

  “Lady Marchelan insisted on carrying her off,” Mr. Shine said smoothly. “Something about a country party at Lady So and So’s. Now, what will you do? Sit there all night when there is no cause for it?”

  Pips, her voice ringing with irritation, said, “A trip to the countryside at this hour!”

  “Yes, they said they thought to go on the morrow,” Mr. Shine said smoothly, “and then decided to set off now. You know how the fancies are—everything is to be at their whim and convenience.”

  “What a palaver!” Pips cried. “Galloping through the countryside at night with no thought to highwaymen. Really, I think Mrs. Hemming to be too liberal with the girl to allow her to run off so! Well,” she said with a huff, “let us go, we might catch a few hours of sleep if we’re lucky. Though I suppose that won’t bother my mistress.”

  The carriage set off and Lily and Lord Ashworth waited until they heard the door shut behind Mr. Shine.

  “Who is Lady Marchelan?” Lily whispered.

  “A figment,” Lord Ashworth answered. “Come, we must go quickly. The villain will even now be on his way up to the attics.”

  At the thought of Mr. Shine running up the stairs to the attics, Lily felt frozen to the spot. There was such an enormous horror running through her that she did not think she could move. Somewhere in her clouded thoughts, she thought a terror such as this was why a rabbit suddenly gave up in a fox’s jaws. It was too much to fight against.

  Lord Ashworth leapt onto the branch and grabbed the one above him to steady himself. He reached his hand out.

  Lily stared at him.

  “Take my hand!” the lord said urgently.

  His words seemed to shake her from her stupor. His outstretched hand gave her courage. She took it.

  His strong grasp felt as a link to life. A way to live. A way to escape the fox’s jaws. He nodded to her and began to inch them forward. Slowly, footstep by footstep, Lily could feel the rough bark through her slippers. Finally to the trunk. Lord Ashworth climbed down to a branch below them as Lily held on to the trunk. He steadied her, his arms around her waist, as she carefully lowered herself down to him.

  Lord Ashworth leapt the last six feet to the pavement and turned to her. Above them, she heard the sound of the casement window banging against the side of the house. Mr. Shine. He was in the attic.

  Lily jumped.

  *

  Mr. Shine had hurried back into the house after sending Miss Farnsworth’s carriage on its way. He gathered up the bindings and rags he had collected, and a second pistol. One could never be too careful—Lord Ashworth was not an inconsiderable opponent. He assumed the gentleman would have come up with some ridiculous plan to overcome him when he opened the door. Perhaps he’d loosened a brick from the fireplace and intended to knock him on the head. It would be well to be able to get off two shots if necessary. After all, if he we
re forced to kill them, he could still collect the ransom and be off.

  He crept down the corridor silently. Reaching the door, he unlocked it and kicked it open, raising his pistols.

  The empty room stared back at him. The windows gently swayed with the breeze and the wafting air brushed his face.

  He raced to the windows and slammed them open, just in time to see Lord Ashworth running down the avenue with Miss Farnsworth in his arms.

  Mr. Shine raised one of his pistols, and then lowered it. He’d never make the shot and even if he’d got lucky, what was he to do with a dead man on the street and a woman screaming about it?

  The neighbors would be out in their nightcaps before he got out the front door.

  Mr. Shine slowly sank to his knees. He was penniless and his quarry had escaped him. He could not ransom Lord Ashworth and he dare not be on the premises a moment longer. He had nothing for his months of trouble and nowhere to turn. Worse, Lord Ashworth would come for him. Once he’d deposited the lady safely at her house, the man would start thinking of a plan. He’d probably send men. A lot of men. Who knows what the lord would say to the magistrate?

  He might even say Mr. Shine had murdered Nancy Manton. For, where was she? He might even say Mr. Shine had stolen the bank. For, where was it? They’d never believe Nancy stole it. They’d all known her as the respectable Lady Carradine these past five years. They’d laugh at his story of Nancy Manton taking the identity of the lady. They’d laugh, and then they’d hang him.

  Hanging. It was the nightmare that had followed him all his life. The idea that he’d someday be caught at one of his schemes and struggled into a noose.

  He briefly considered throwing himself into the Thames. Drowning must surely be better than swinging. Though, when he imagined floating down into the dark water to join the rest of the unfortunate souls who’d gone before, he knew he would not do it. He had too much a care for his own comfort to drown himself. If he were to do a violence to himself, he would procure a sufficient amount of laudanum. It was said to be a pleasant way to drift off and never come back.