April Kihlstrom (15 page)

“Why do you ask?” one of them inquired of Lady Kenrick.

Beatrix tried to think. How much to reveal about her fears? What if she were wrong? What would Edmund think if she alarmed his friends needlessly? Out loud she said, “Did you check his clubs?”

“Not precisely,” Lord Burford said slowly. “We assumed he’d be at home with you.”

“But we have been at the clubs ourselves and no one mentioned seeing him.”

“Lady Rothwood, what is worrying you?” Lord Burford asked with kindness in his voice.

In that moment Beatrix made her decision. Deliberately she said, “Rothwood left the house hours ago to fetch Lady Kenrick and never reached here. He was coming for her because I took ill for some unknown reason, but I suspect it was due to some kind of poison. And now all of you, his closest friends, say that you have not seen him, either. I am afraid something might have happened to him.”

The three men looked at one another and then at Lady Kenrick who shrugged. “We have no proof of anything,” she said. “Only suspicions and fears. Rothwood did tell Henry he meant to come straight to my house and he did not get here. Lady Rothwood drank some tea and ate some biscuits brought to her without her request and immediately became ill. It would seem sensible to take precautions and be concerned. Do you not agree?”

Beatrix could almost read their doubts on their faces, their belief that she was a foolish bride imagining things. Perhaps perceiving that she and Edmund had had a fight. She had to do something. Feeling a sense of desperation, Beatrix said, “I know I am probably being foolish, but I was thinking of sending for the Bow Street Runners. Perhaps several of them, to look for Rothwood.”

“Absolutely not!”

“We’ll go and look for him. Bound to be somewhere we can go that the Runners couldn’t.”

“Yes, leave it to us!”

It was not what she wanted. She did not want to delay searching for Edmund, even for another minute. But she was all too conscious of what he would say if she sent Runners after him with no cause. Perhaps she ought to give them a chance to find him first. After all, they would know his favorite places and usual haunts and could gain the entrée where a Runner might not.

“Very well,” she said at last. “But if you cannot find him by morning, I will send for the Runners. I will still be with Lady Kenrick so you can bring us your news here.”

The men looked relieved. She was certain they thought her foolish and prone to hysteria, but she didn’t care. What she had said would lend urgency to their search and something inside her screamed that urgency was just what was needed most. The men rose and took their leave of her and Lady Kenrick, waiting to shake their heads at each other until they were out the door.

Beatrix had no doubt they would do their best to find Edmund. None of them, after all, wanted him to be embarrassed by the scandal it would cause if a Bow Street Runner found him where they clearly suspected he was most likely to be.

When they were gone, Beatrix and Lady Kenrick looked at each other.

“I hope we were wise to tell them what we did,” the older woman said. “And that they find Rothwood before morning.”

“I do as well,” Beatrix replied. “But if they do not, then I meant what I said about consulting Bow Street.”

Lady Kenrick looked doubtful, but all she said was, “For now, let us get you up to bed. Whether you are right or wrong in your suspicions, you will be safe here.”

Beatrix did not argue. She was still far too fatigued and weak.

Beatrix closed her eyes as she was tucked into bed and prayed that wherever he was, Edmund was safe. She also prayed that his friends were wrong and he was not simply engaging in amusements when she needed him most.

As if she knew and understood the direction of Beatrix’s thoughts, Lady Kenrick patted her hand and said softly, “It will be all right, I promise you.”

If only that were a promise either of them could be certain she could keep.

* * *

Edmund was grateful that he had been able to persuade his captors to untie his hands. It had not been easy, but asking if they preferred to undo his pants so that he could relieve himself had done the trick. Rather hastily they freed his hands and backed away, warning him not to try anything.

Though he was now slightly more comfortable, they had not left him even a single candle. There was some light from the windows, but, positioned as they were, not enough to see as clearly as he wished. He would have to explore his prison, as much by feel as with his eyes, for anything that might be used to his advantage. Later he’d think about everything Adams had told him. For now, his focus had to be on finding a way to escape.

He began with the windows. They were too small and too high off the ground to use for escape, however. Even if he could somehow fit through one of them, he would have to find something that could be used to help him climb down once outside. To simply jump from this height would be folly.

Next he slowly looked around the room. Someone had evidently cleared out the attic, for it held very little of the kind of clutter such spaces usually house. Clutter that might have provided him something to use to escape. But no. There was a pallet on the floor, but no real bed. A chamber pot. A bowl next to a pitcher that held some water.

Briefly he considered using one of the latter to bash his captors if and when they returned but wasn’t satisfied. It would be better if he could find something that would not break and could be used more than once to defend himself. He began to search for anything that might be useful, anything that might have fallen or perhaps rolled into a corner and gone unseen by his captors.

What would Beatrix make of his absence? Was she even still alive? She had been so very ill when he had last seen her. When would the household send someone to look for him?

What about his friends? Odds were they would not realize he was back in London or, if they did, would assume he had closeted himself with his bride, as they would have done had they just been wed.

When would
anyone
think to look for him?

A few hours, he concluded. A note to his Aunt Violet when he did not return would be sufficient to discover he had never reached her townhouse and that something was wrong. But even so, how would anyone ever find him? He would not have thought to suspect Adams of such behavior. Why should anyone else? With the house so isolated, shouting would accomplish nothing, except perhaps to annoy his captors and cause them to shut him up, one way or another.

He was on his own. Edmund focused even more intently on the room that was his prison. There must be something he could use. There had to be. No matter what Adams said, Edmund didn’t trust the man to keep him alive for long and worse, he didn’t trust him not to kill Beatrix. That was the fear that haunted him the most, drove him the hardest. Was she even still alive?

Suddenly his fingers touched something in the shadows. It felt like metal and was wedged in where it was. It took some time but finally he managed to free it. He carried it over to the pallet and hid it underneath. It would only take him a moment to retrieve it if he heard someone coming but it would be hidden if they came unexpectedly.

Now what else was there in the room that could prove useful?

* * *

The man Adams sent to Rothwood’s townhouse took his time getting there. James, as he was called, did not see what the fuss was about. If he was too late to save Lady Rothwood, good riddance. There were other ways to make his lordship cooperate and he’d have been glad to be given a chance to persuade him.

Worse, he hated having to call at the household at all. It was all right for Adams. If something went wrong, no one would think to connect him to what happened. But here he was, having to show his face at the door and ask for Annie. The more often he called at unexpected times, the more likely someone would think something was amiss. What if someone suspected she had doctored the food given to Lady Rothwood? Both of them might come under suspicion, and while Annie might not be the brightest of creatures, she had a good heart and he was rather sweet on her. And she on him. He still meant, if all went well, to take his share of the money and buy a small cottage somewhere far away where he and Annie might be together. If anything happened to Annie because of this, because Adams had sent him here today, then the man was going to answer to him!

He paused and hid in the shadows once he was in sight of the Rothwood townhouse. He kept trying to think of a way to get a message to Annie without anyone getting suspicious.

To be sure, James had been calling on Annie for some weeks now, ever since Adams had taken it into his head to keep watch over his lordship, just in case he decided to marry by some deadline Adams thought important. James hadn’t minded. It had been easy money. Until now. The staff thought he and Annie were courting. Which they were. Perhaps the staff would think the same today, even though it wasn’t her half day off. And later, if anything went wrong, they might not think twice about him calling on her. Trouble was, he was supposed to persuade Annie to give her ladyship a dose of something else now, something Adams said would make her better. But how was he going to get Annie to do that?

Annie had a tender heart, she did. He was fairly certain she’d be upset that her ladyship was so ill and not likely to trust him after he’d gotten her to put that other powder in Lady Rothwood’s food. So how was he going to persuade her?

Adams was no help. When asked, he had simply glared at James and said, “Use your imagination. You’ll think of something. Don’t bother me with details.”

Squaring his shoulders, he crossed the street and knocked at the back door. They knew him, as well as who he wanted.

“She’s gone out to the market, fetching something to make a nice soup for the mistress,” the housekeeper told him. “But don’t you be waylaying her! We need her back here with her basket right quick.”

Here was opportunity.

“How do you like your new mistress?” he asked.

The housekeeper drew herself up straight and said, chin tilted up, “I’ll not be gossiping to you about her!”

“No, no, of course not! I only meant, well Annie did say it was a big change, having his lordship marry and bring a new wife home, sudden-like. Must be a lot of extra work for all of you and, well, I just hoped she was kind. Some of them aren’t. I worry about Annie, you see. I want to be sure the new mistress isn’t unkind to her.”

“Oh, never fear about that,” the housekeeper said, unbending a trifle. “She’s quite nice and not all starched up as we more’n half feared she would be. And she sees a person. Takes the time to thank you, she does, unlike most in her position. Not that I’m saying it’s proper, her being so friendly and all, but you see there’s no need to worry she’ll be unkind to Annie.”

“That’s a relief!” he said. “I’ll be bound you have a houseful of callers already, wishing to meet the new Lady Rothwood.”

“Well, no,” the housekeeper said reluctantly. “That is to say, most don’t know she’s here yet and even if they did, her ladyship’s taken ill so she wouldn’t be able to receive any callers other than his lordship’s aunt.”

“Took ill! Oh, dear. Will she be all right?”

“Well, the physician says it’s just nerves, but between you and me, I’m not so certain. I’d have said marriage quite pleased her. But then I’m only a housekeeper, I could well be mistaken and his lordship has taken himself off somewhere, so perhaps they had a spat and that’s what’s made her ill.”

“I hope she is better soon. I’m certain you’re all taking good care of her.”

“Well, as to that. You wouldn’t think so by what—”

“Mrs. Barnes, that will be quite enough!”

A pinch-faced man had come up behind the housekeeper and was glaring at James. “We do not gossip, particularly not about the family! As for you, whoever you are, go away. I’ll not have riffraff hanging about the kitchen steps!”

“He’s not riffraff, sir. He’s here to see Annie. But she’s off to the market for some fresh vegetables so Cook can make a nourishing soup for her ladyship.”

“Annie has a caller? Who comes to the back door for her? You know that’s not allowed except on her half day off. Which is not,” he added, “today.”

“I shall be going. I meant no harm. Please forgive me. And my best wishes for your mistress’s swift recovery.”

Even as James backed away, he cursed at the bad luck that yet another person had seen him there asking questions about the family. All very well for Adams to tell him to do so, but he wasn’t at risk of being remembered for it! Where the devil was Annie? He would draw far too much attention if he tried to hang around and wait for her. On the other hand, he wasn’t about to return to Adams and tell him he’d failed. He’d have to go to the market and try to find Annie.

With that in mind, he headed away from Rothwood’s townhouse only to encounter Annie before he’d gone very far.

At the sight of him, instead of breaking into a huge smile the way she usually did and throwing her arms around his neck, her face crumpled and she looked as if she was going to cry.

“Oh, James!” she said. “What was it you gave me to put in her ladyship’s tea? She’s been so sick, we’ve all been afeared for her life. And if she dies, what if they realize it was me who did it?”

Hastily he grabbed her arm and pulled her into the shadows. “No one will find out unless you tell them!” he hissed. “Now listen. The plan has changed. Lady Rothwood has to get better. No more of that stuff in her food, do you hear?”

Annie nodded. Her expression warned him, however, that she was hiding something.

“What? What is it?” he demanded.

“I—I know you told me to use all of it but I couldn’t. I was afeared. And then when she got so sick, I threw it away.”

James let go of her arm and breathed a sigh of relief. He might not have to persuade Annie to give her ladyship the new powder after all. “That’s all right then,” he said. “But mind, you should have done what I said!”

“Yes, James,” she said meekly. Then, after a moment, “James? Is it all right if I go now? They will be expecting me and wondering where I am.”