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He was speaking of children.

Of the consequences should Hester find herself carrying Thomas’s child. Her heart stuttered, pain radiating through her as the image of a newborn babe crept into her mind. Of the small, grasping fists. A shock of dark hair above a round, bawling, toothless face. She could almost feel the weight of the child in her arms, smell its soft skin. She could not speak past the lump in her throat.

“If that is the case, I would hope you would contact me. Arrangements could be made to ease the burden,” he said now in a persuasive tone. He’d obviously decided that he could not browbeat her; taking the opposite tack made him far more dangerous. “Will you promise me that if you find yourself thus burdened, you will be in touch?”

He was looking at her earnestly and she knew, in his way, that Thomas’s brother was trying to treat her fairly. But without him saying the words, she also knew he meant his gift as an assurance. A complete and irrevocable breech with Thomas in return for his generosity.

Thomas’s child.

A tiny, soft being to love and care for.

If there was a child, Thomas would insist on marrying her. His integrity was such that were she to find herself in the family way, he would stop at nothing to bind her to him.

But she could not allow it to happen. To tie herself to him in that way would be a torture of epic proportions. She had spent the past two months denying her feelings and it had left her drained and on edge. A lifetime would be an impossibility.

She squeezed her eyes shut, and opened them to see a man in a faded blue coat lounging on the far side of the street, leaning with studied nonchalance against a wrought iron railing.

He was watching them with an air of subtle menace about him, but when he saw her looking at him, he glanced away. She felt a frisson of concern but Edward’s proposal distracted her.

She would not accept his money. Thomas would forget her soon enough and when she made no contact, he would doubtless assume that she had removed to a distant town and wished to put their affair behind her.

“It would not be a burden,” she said firmly. “It would be loved.”

“Loved? It would be illegitimate and scorned and ridiculed as you—” He stopped abruptly and Hester coloured hotly at the unspoken words.

As you are now.

But nothing he offered would ever persuade her to act otherwise. If she could not have Thomas for all time, she would gladly take some small portion of him in a child. And she had not lied. She would love any child that she bore. Shame was inflicted and lacerated deepest in one’s own mind. She would never let her child be thus infected. Not if it meant she had to travel to the ends of the earth where no one knew them and they could start afresh.

“It will be loved and it will not be ashamed, even if the family that will not claim it so clearly would be,” she vowed. “I believe there is little else to say to each other. You have made your overture. It has been rejected. You may return to your life, secure in the knowledge that you have done your duty, such as it is. Now if you would be so good as to take me back?”

His anger was palpable but he argued no further. He escorted her home with stiff formality. In other circumstances, she would have been overrun with guilt at crossing him. He seemed a good sort of man. And if the arrangement between Thomas and herself had been of the common variety, one might even argue that he had treated her with remarkable consideration. Six hundred pounds was not to be sneezed at. It was not his fault that what she craved most could never be purchased.

She wanted the love she felt for Thomas reciprocated.

“Thank you, Mr. Ramsay,” she said when they reached the town house, putting out her gloved hand for him to take. It cost her pride a little to be so civil but she refused to behave as he expected. He hesitated, so long that Hester felt certain he would refuse. But at last, he shook it, his grey eyes sombre and pensive. “Would you like me to tell Thomas that you are in town?”

He froze for a moment then shook his head. “I think not. He might suspect me of fraternal interference. Our relationship is strained enough.”

Hester took her courage into her hands. She might not be able to accommodate his desire for her to leave but in this at least, she might be able to effect some small change. Thomas missed his family. She could not mend the breach but she might lay the groundwork for a future rapprochement. “Please, do not think me impertinent but you might be wrong about the intractable nature of the divide between your brother and the rest of the family. He cares for you too.”

As she spoke, she was conscious of the disreputable-looking man once more. He had followed them, albeit at a distance, and was now kicking a pebble with indolent speed. He did not belong amongst the comfortable townhomes and Hester knew his presence boded ill. It had all the hallmarks of Mr. Wooley’s underhanded machinations. They had seen nothing of him since her brother had dismissed him from his defense, but it was too much to expect that the solicitor would slink off without some final mischief.

“I will take your opinion under advisement,” Edward said coldly. “And if I might be so bold as to offer a small piece of advice myself? My brother has a long history of abandoning those who care for him to pursue his own path. You may flatter yourself that you are somehow unique and that Thomas will remain at your side for quite a long while. The sea is and will always be his first mistress. You, my dear Miss Aspinall, are merely a distraction until he can return to her.” He tipped his hat and walked swiftly away.

Hester stood at the base of the steps trembling. Edward’s gait brisk and purposeful. She on the other hand, felt weak and wrung out. Their confrontation had cost her greatly. But she didn’t dare tarry when Wooley’s man was laying in wait.

She turned to hurry up the steps, only to stop when the man in the blue coat approached her.

“You’re wanted for a job.”

“I told your employer I wanted nothing more to do with him or his schemes. Be gone before I set the footman on you.” She spoke as firmly as she could. The man took a step closer and she saw in his uneven gait an injury that had never healed. She wondered if she might outrun him and reach the knocker to summon help before he could mount the stairs. He seemed unmoved by her rejection, smiling slyly at her reprimand.

“Him who carries the marketing? Or perhaps the old man that opens the door and sorts the post?” His easy familiarity with the household’s inhabitants chilled Hester’s blood.

“What do you want?”

“Mr. Wooley thinks you might have reconsidered your position.”

“I assure you I have not. Nothing on earth could tempt me to. He is a cheat and a swindler who has taken our money and done nothing to advance my brother’s cause. He may go to Hades, for all I care, for there he is sure to find someone who will appreciate his dishonest ways.”

The messenger smiled darkly, revealing his blackened teeth. “He said you might feel that way. And he said it might come to this.” As quick as a wink, a knife was in his hand. She wasn’t sure where he had drawn it from but it looked wickedly sharp.

For the first time, she knew real fear.

“Come along. Mr. Wooley wants a word,” he said in a singsong tone not unlike the voice the nanny had used to call her recalcitrant charge earlier in the park. “You step this way, nice and quiet and I won’t have to hurt you or them that live in this fine, fine house.”

Panic robbed her of her voice. She wanted to scream or strike him with her purse but the knife was pressing hard into her side. Even through the baleen rods of her stays, she could feel the hard point, its frightening efficacy raw and potent.

He hustled her quickly into the alley, the knife disguised by the folds of her gown. They met no one coming or going. The street was bare and she despaired. Thomas would have no idea where she was being taken. There was a small carriage waiting. The glass opened and Wooley looked out.

“So good of you to join me, Miss Aspinall. Won’t you sit with me a moment?” The false jollity of his request was jarring.

She would have resisted but for her captor’s assistant, who pushed her unceremoniously into the conveyance and shut the door with a heavy hand.

“Where are you taking me?” she demanded. “You must know that I will be missed.”

“I’m counting on it,” he assured her. “Have no fear. This state of affairs is a temporary arrangement, but one I hope will be financially lucrative. All that will be required will be for Mr. Ramsay to agree to my terms. If he is prompt, I have no doubt you’ll be back, dining at his table—and warming his bed—in no time at all.”

The interior of the carriage was dark. It was difficult for Hester to distinguish the expression on Wooley’s face as he made his extraordinary claims. Certainly, he seemed unperturbed to have committed this act of violent kidnap.

She waited for a rope to be produced but apparently the lawyer felt her sufficiently terrified as to make such restraints unnecessary. Perhaps she might use that freedom to her advantage. She would have to be alert to every possibility if she was to thwart his plans.

The carriage swayed as the horses turned into the main street. It was dark inside the box, the shades drawn low across the windows so that only a small glimmer of light permeated the crowded space. She couldn’t distinguish direction or make out any sounds beyond those of a typical metropolitan byway that might give her a clue as to their destination.

All she could do now was wait and bide her time, readying herself for rescue. She crossed her arms across her chest, pressing herself hard against the cracked leather squabs. She would not give this man the satisfaction of seeing her fear.

Thomas would rescue her.

Of that she had every confidence.

Chapter Twenty

Sir John ducked behind the Chinese screen after dinner, buttoning his fly as he reemerged. The servants had already descended to clear away the table, leaving them at liberty to leave the dining room. He patted his stomach contentedly then gestured out the door, towards the club’s library.

“What say you to a drink? I’ve been at my desk all hours, preparing for Mr. Aspinall’s trial,” he said. “An interesting man—it’s rare I defend a client I actually like and even rarer when I hope they’ll be found not guilty.”

“I thank you but in light of the hour, I ought to be going.” Thomas thought of Hester waiting for him at home. He had resolved that this was the night he would speak to her of his feelings for her. For too long he had restrained himself. But every day it was harder and harder to keep back the words he felt in his heart. He was going to ask her to marry him.

He knew Hester did not love him but perhaps, in time, she might come to care for him. His hopes were pinned on it.

His tone therefore was more curt than the friendly offer warranted and from the look on the older man’s face, he had given offense.

Sir John sniffed. “Cellar’s very fine here, you know.”

“Yes, but I—”

“It hasn’t aught to do with that pretty young thing you were on about the other day, has it?” Thomas’s stiff silence was answer enough. The barrister chuckled, his good humour restored now that he believed he had ferreted out the source of his companion’s distracted temperament. “Come, man. She’ll love you just as well at ten o’clock as she does at nine. Have a drink with me.”

Knowing further objections would be useless—and that Hester wouldn’t love him no matter what number the clock’s hands pointed to—Thomas fell in step, and they made their way towards the library in companionable silence.

It was crowded, the cool autumn evening making the two large fireplaces a prime locale. But eventually, they located two chairs on the periphery of the room and settled themselves into the cushions, ordering their drinks from a passing footman.

“So, you’ve been lured by the siren’s song at last, have you? You’d resisted so long, I thought you’d wax in your ears, like poor Odysseus. Your mother and father will be glad of it, for all that the courtship’s been an unusual one.”

Thomas gazed into the tumbler and thought of his parents’ reaction when he told them of his intentions towards Hester. They’d think he’d taken leave of his senses or spent too long under foreign suns and addled his brain.

Hester had no connections. No fortune. Her dowry consisted of seven and a half pounds, a large set of old-fashioned bedroom furniture and a book of kitchen receipts passed down from her mother’s side of the family.

And yet, it did not matter.

He loved her and wanted to marry her.

He’d tried and failed a half-dozen times to broach the subject but fear of her reaction had silenced him. At last, he’d screwed up his courage and demanded an interview this evening. But Sir John seemed intent on sharing a companionable drink, and short of out and out rudeness, he had to accept.

“We have an understanding. It is just…it is not of the common variety.” And Hester at least had never pretended otherwise. But he still had to ask her for her hand. He’d delayed out of fear but from the first time they’d made love in the warehouse, and he’d seen her above him, glorious and alive, her face transported with pleasure, his name on her lips, he’d understood that what was between them was not temporary at all.

Wherever he went, wherever the trade winds carried him, he would always leave something behind, because whether she knew it or not, whether she welcomed it or not, she was mistress of his heart and would be until the day he died.

“That’s an evasion to do any lawyer’s heart proud. You care for her. You’ve certainly shown your feelings for her. You’re paying her brother’s way, and what he’s involved in would make many wash their hands of him entirely. So what is the truth of it? And no more putting me off. Tell me now and you can rest assured it’ll go no further.”

Thomas looked down at the drink in his hands. He swirled the amber liquid round and round, watching it circle the crystal glass.

“I’m a fool?” he offered at last and it was a credit to their friendship that Sir John didn’t laugh. If he was tempted to smile, he stifled it quickly, and Thomas was grateful for his discretion.

“Not a man alive who hasn’t been made a fool by a woman.” The observation was made in a wry, resigned tone that spoke of hard-won experience. “But it doesn’t answer my question.”

“It was a matter of honour.” His paltry explanation occasioned a swift ascent of Sir John’s brow.

“Honour will do that to a man. Or at least misplaced honour. Is yours misplaced?”

Thomas sighed. “Perhaps.” He thought again of the way he had forced Hester’s hand. Of course, the riot could not be laid at his door, but his offer, his inability to control his own desires, had all combined to ensure that Hester had little choice in the matter. She enjoyed their interludes. Her body revealed that to him, and he delighted in pleasing her but was always afraid to ask for more for fear she would deny him. Hearing her say out loud that she did not love him. He shrank from it. It was humbling to learn that his heart, which he had long believed impervious to Eros’s touch, was as vulnerable as any man. “But there is no one else for me.”

Even as he said the words, he knew them to be insufficient. It wasn’t just that there was no one else. It was that he wanted it to be no one else. He wanted to be in Hester’s life. He wanted to see her every day, to see her look at him with caring, with admiration, with love. He wanted to grow old with her. Hers was not the sort of beauty that dimmed with age. Her dark hair would turn grey, her soft skin would settle into lines. But none of that mattered to him. That which he loved best could never be touched by time’s hand.

Sir John nodded knowingly, drawing deeply on his pipe. “Is it the scandal that’s keeping you quiet? Not many who’d want to fix their family name to a chap with a cloud of that hue hanging above him.”

Thomas shook his head. “God knows I’ve embroiled Hester in scandal enough of my own making. I don’t care what her brother did or is or who he buggers. I just know that my life without her is incomplete.”

“Have you told her that?”

“Not in so many words, no.”

“Never thought you a coward, Thomas.”

“I beg your pardon?” The interruption surprised him.

“Coward.” The word was blunt and Sir John’s expression sober.

“If this is your way of encouraging me, I must say it is an unusual one.”

Sir John held up his hand and tutted. “It is not me you have to convince of the strength of your feelings, Tom. That task falls to Miss Aspinall. But if you said to her what you said to me, I wouldn’t marry you either,” he said baldly. “Did you know your eyes light up when you speak of this Miss Aspinall?”

His eyes lit up? Surely not. That was the stuff of the Minerva Press novels his sisters devoured.

“If you love the girl, enough to overlook her birth and her connections and her past, you need to tell her. Leave her in no doubt of your affections. If she feels the same, she’ll marry you, long voyages and queer relations be damned.”

Was Sir John right? Thomas knew that Hester had had little choice in the matter up until now. His feelings must perforce be stronger than hers. But hiding his emotions, downplaying in an effort to avoid scaring her,
was
the wrong course of action.

He loved Hester. He had loved her from the moment he’d first laid eyes on her.

“I love her,” he repeated. It felt odd, saying it out loud but strangely liberating.

“Then you must tell her that,” Sir John said sternly. “Make my job easier while you’re at it by giving my client a family of good character and put that damn special licence you keep patting inside your coat to good use.”

Thomas had been carrying the paper in his pocketbook for a fortnight now. He’d opened and refolded it so many times, it already looked worn. But how Sir John had deciphered its presence was a mystery. “How on earth—”

There was a commotion in the front hall, and they both turned to see what was happening. Disturbances were something the club worked very hard to have happen at other establishments. Suddenly, George, burst into the room.

“She’s gone, sir,” he shouted as the major domo and two of the club’s own footmen tried to drag him from the room. “Miss Aspinall is gone. Taken! Your brother came to the house and she never returned.” He struggled against the restraining arms of the club’s staff and Thomas was aware that every eye in the room was upon them. All he could think was that Hester was gone. It echoed in his mind again and again.

His surprise was multiplied tenfold when his brother, Edward, entered the library.

“Let him go,” Edward ordered the servants. Reluctantly, they conceded, releasing the footman. “This is not a conversation for general consumption, Thomas. Let us retire to a more private room.”

Thomas led the way out of the library, into a smaller room nearby that was thankfully empty. Sir John followed and Thomas was grateful for his presence.

“Tell me again what has happened. And leave nothing out.”

George related everything in a breathless tone. “We waited and waited, sir, but she never returned. I walked all about the neighbourhood. I thought she might have wanted to clear her head but soon realized she were gone altogether. It were apparent to all of us—Mr. Wallis and Mrs. Lytton and everyone—that your brother didn’t think none too highly of Miss Aspinall. That’s when I lit out for your father’s house. I figured if your brother was staying anywhere it would be there and that would be where he’d take her.” His voice cracked and Thomas was struck by his youth at that moment. “She wasn’t there, though. And now we don’t know where she might be.”

“Why weren’t you with her, George?”

“I’m so sorry, sir. She was with your brother. I thought she’d be safe,” the young man said with scorn.

Thomas whirled about. “Have you taken her?”

Edward drew himself up to his full height. “Can you think I would? Honestly?” He grimaced. “I will not attempt to deny that I still have my doubts about this woman you have embroiled yourself with, but I had nothing to do with her disappearance. She was very angry at my coming and defended you to me. Said you were the most honourable man she knew.”

She had? The shame pierced him. Hester was wrong. If he was an honourable man, he would have married her the first day she had lived under his roof and protected her from the slanderous gossip that followed.

“Wouldn’t take my money, either,” his brother continued. “And I offered her six hundred pounds if she would clear off. Something about being in love with you.”

The joy Thomas felt in the midst of his fear overset him, eclipsing everything, including his anger. “She said that she loved me?” He knew he sounded a fool but he didn’t care.

“Repeatedly. From the rather gawping expression on your face, I take it you reciprocate?” His brother rolled his eyes. “God save me from a man in love. At least do the rest of us a favour and not wear your heart on your sleeve.”

Thomas conceded his point, the urgency of the situation capturing his mind once more. “But if you have not spirited her away, then who else would have cause to see her vanish?” The answer dawned on him, clear and inescapable. “Wooley. Wooley has taken her. He means to hold her.”

“Wooley? Who is that? The one in jail?”

“A lawyer. He’s a lawyer, and every moment of delay may be critical,” he announced pacing the length of the room. “All you need know is that I plan to marry Miss Aspinall. She has been taken by a desperate man who has no conscience. His only interest is preserving his own skin.” Anxiety churned in his stomach. Hester, his Hester, was in danger.

Sir John looked grim. “He will have planned this carefully. Wooley may be a scoundrel and a sharp but he is no fool. They caught up with Threws in Newcastle.”

“Threws was the fellow she visited, wasn’t it? Wooley had her dispatched on some fool’s errand.”

“The same. Turns out he’s a forger of some note, with a long history of unsavoury behaviour. According to the men I spoke to in the Treasury, he’s Wooley’s partner in a very successful criminal enterprise. There was a raid several weeks ago. He escaped detection at that time but since then, he has been pursued vigorously.”

Thomas paced the room.

Edward looked pensive. “But how did they manage to trade false money for good?” he asked. “It is not enough to simply make the coin. You must have a means of dispersing it.”

Sir John nodded, as though impressed by Edward’s acumen. “Exactly right. And that’s where Mr. Wooley’s practice came in so handy. He apparently made it a habit to accept cases where the accused had connections to a comely woman. A wife. A sister. A sweetheart. As the fees increased and resources were exhausted, a proposal would be put to the lady. Act as Wooley’s agent, passing bad notes of large denomination for small purchases and giving him the profits and he would continue to represent their loved one. Few could resist such pressures, especially if they were in dire financial straits themselves.”

“The bastard.” Thomas recognized the significance of this revelation. Hester, her brother vulnerable and imprisoned, was certainly to have been one of these numbers. But her presence in his house put paid to Wooley’s plan. Unlike his other victims, she was not without resources. She could not have been manipulated into acting in a criminal fashion. No wonder the mastermind had set a watch on him. At the same time, her proximity to Thomas’s wealth made her vulnerable in another fashion. Clearly, when his deceptions were revealed, the solicitor had made a desperate gamble.

“Why did you not tell me this before?”

Sir John looked apologetic. “My staff were still investigating. Since Mr. Aspinall dismissed Wooley, I thought the matter resolved and that he posed no further threat to brother or sister.”

“Did this Threws give any indication of Mr. Wooley’s intended destination?”

“Regretfully, he did not. Threws was apprehended trying to buy his way aboard a ship. Unsuccessfully, I might add, but when the Treasury’s agents collected him, he quickly turned evidence. That was several days ago. Doubtless, Wooley knows of his capture by now. He must flee. If he is caught, he will lose everything. The Exchequer takes a dim view of forgery. It’s a capital crime and high treason, to boot.”

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