Larken (17 page)

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Authors: S.G. Rogers

BOOK: Larken
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“It
was
a dodgy neighborhood,” Brandon said. “You must have had break-ins before.”

“Yes, but this time they stole my letters. Those letters have value only to me, so it doesn’t make any sense.”

“Perhaps it was malicious mischief perpetrated by a jealous acquaintance?” Larken suggested.

“Well, if they wanted to hurt me, they succeeded admirably. Among the letters were the last ones I ever received from Mariah and Father.”

Brandon winced. “I’m so sorry.”

“What a horrible loss,” Larken said. “I have letters from an old companion that I treasure. It would grieve me terribly to lose them.”

“An old companion?” Brandon echoed.

“When I lived at the orphanage, I made only one friend there. Although she and I came from vastly different backgrounds, Josie helped me survive a very dark time in my life. Without her, I might have lost my mind.”

“Josie?” A flash of recognition lit Brandon’s face. “Isn’t Miss Josie the name of your pretend friend?”

“I’m not understanding you, Brandon,” Theo said. “Why are you talking about pretend friends?”

Larken laughed at Theo’s expression of bewilderment.

“When Brandon went to America to pick up Myles, I made up several pretend friends to keep me company. And yes, one of them was named after my friend Josie.”

“Whatever became of her?” Theo asked. “The real friend, that is, not the pretend one.”

“She and I corresponded for several years, but when she left the orphanage, the letters stopped coming,” Larken said. “It makes me rather sad, actually.”

“Perhaps you could visit the orphanage before we leave town, to discover where she went?” Brandon suggested.

Her eyebrows lifted. “What a good suggestion! I’m interviewing potential nannies again tomorrow morning, but may I have the carriage in the afternoon?”

“Certainly, you may have the carriage. Theo, Myles, and I will go riding.”

“I’d like that,” Theo said. “I haven’t been on a horse in ages.”

“I’m quite looking forward to visiting the orphanage.” Larken gave Brandon a beaming smile. “If I could learn Josie’s whereabouts, I would enjoy seeing her again.”

When Larken alit from the carriage mid-afternoon, her eyes focused on the glum building before her. Time had certainly not improved its stark, foreboding appearance. Her memory of arriving here five years prior was still quite fresh in her mind, although on this occasion she had no fear of what lay inside.

She glanced up at James. “I shouldn’t be terribly long.”

He nodded and touched his hat in response. Larken needed no directions to find her way to Mrs. Platt’s office. The matron’s warm, welcoming attitude threw Larken off a bit, until she realized the woman had mistaken her for a potential patron of the orphanage.

“Mrs. Platt, I’m Larken Burke—actually Mrs. Brandon King now. You might remember me as the Miracle Orphan.”

“Oh, yes.” The matron’s face fell only slightly. “How can I help you, Mrs. King?”

“I was hoping you could tell me something about my friend Josephine Wilkes? Did you place her into a position as a governess or maid?”

“Josephine Wilkes?” She went to a bookshelf, pulled out a journal, and leafed through the pages until she found the entry. “Here we are. Miss Wilkes was to work as a governess for a prominent family, but when the wife arrived here to meet her, she insisted on hiring another girl.”

“Why?”

“Although the woman didn’t specify, I suspect it was because Miss Wilkes was too pretty. The wife took Maude Chesterfield instead.”

Larken remembered Maude, whose looks were no threat to anyone.

“What became of Josie?”

The journal snapped shut. “Once an orphan turns seventeen, they are no longer my concern.”

“I see.”

Larken was disappointed, both for herself and on Josie’s behalf. It was so cruel for a seventeen-year-old girl to be turned out into the world with no money and no protector. Well, it might be too late for Josie, but perhaps Larken could help someone else. She removed her gloves.

“Have you any nanny candidates available? If so, I’d like to meet them.”

An hour later, Larken emerged from the orphanage with much food for thought. She’d met several young girls who were in dire need of employment. Although only one was suited to Larken’s requirements as a nanny, she fretted about the rest. Perhaps the remaining girls might be hired at Graceling Hall in some other capacity.

When James saw her coming, he climbed from the driver’s seat and held the door open. Preoccupied with her interviews, she barely spared him a glance.

“I was delayed a bit,” she said. “Sorry.”

He didn’t respond, and Larken assumed he was annoyed with her. She climbed into the carriage, but before she could settle herself, a man with a heavy black beard, a black tricorn hat, and an eye patch climbed in after her. As Larken stared at the barrel of his flamboyant dueling pistol, her mouth went dry.

“I haven’t much in my reticule, sir, but you’re welcome to it.” She tossed her bag into his lap.

Although it was no laughing matter, she almost expected to see a hook where his left hand would be. When the man grinned at her, one of his front teeth was blackened.
He’s wearing a disguise.

“I’m after far more than yer reticule, lass.”

As James slammed the carriage door shut, she suddenly realized he wasn’t her driver either, but a complete stranger wearing James’ uniform and a shaggy blond wig. Another disguise.

“What have you done with James?” she demanded.

The pirate leered. “Let’s just say when yer driver wakes up, he’ll have a right wicked headache.”

“Take the carriage, but let me go.”

She reached for the door handle, but the pirate grabbed her wrist and forced her back into her seat.

“No ye don’t,” he said. “Come along quiet-like and ye won’t get hurt.”

The carriage rolled forward. The pirate drew his hand across his nose, and an orangish streak appeared on his skin. Larken was bewildered as much as she was frightened. The man’s accent was affected, his clothes and weapon were outlandish, and he was wearing makeup. It was almost as if she’d stumbled into a melodrama, and she was playing the part of the damsel in distress.

“This carriage and the horses are worth a great deal of money, and you should be able to sell them with little risk. What do you want with me?”

“The King brothers will pay a great deal of money to make sure Mariah Pettigrew is returned to them unharmed. Yer going to write yer own ransom note, and after it’s been paid, we’ll let ye go.”

Mariah Pettigrew?

“You’re making a grave mistake.” She wondered how best to discourage him from his course of action. “My name is Larken Burke, and I’m a mail-order bride. My husband doesn’t give two figs for me, and I only just met his brother yesterday.”

The pirate howled with laughter, and the smell of stale beer filled the carriage.

“Now that’s a tall tale if I ever heard one. Now shut it or I’ll be forced to gag ye.”

Bewildered and frightened, Larken could only stare. Why wouldn’t he believe her? More importantly, how was she to get out of this pickle alive?

As Brandon, Theo and Myles rode on Rotten Row, a sense of well-being suffused Brandon’s soul. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so peaceful. Although little conversation passed between Brandon and Theo, none was needed. They were just two brothers—best friends—spending time with Brandon’s ward.

When Brandon noticed his brother walking stiffly afterward, he hailed a cab. As they settled in for the short journey back to the townhouse, Theo smiled.

“Thank you. I confess I’m glad to be spared the walk home. My legs are trembling like those of a new colt.”

“Once you’re riding more regularly, you’ll get used to the saddle again quickly.”

“We’ve got lots of horses at Graceling Hall,” Myles said. “I’ll even let you borrow my pony, if you want.”

“That’s too kind of you, Myles. I’m looking forward to seeing Graceling Hall again, I must say.”

“You’ve been missed, and not just by me. Every time I’ve visited your grave, someone has left fresh flowers,” Brandon said.

“Really? I’m so terribly sorry to have caused anyone grief.” Theo shook his head. “I’ve written to the chief inspector in Liverpool, to ask him to reopen the investigation into my death. I told him everything I know about the matter.”

“I daresay…” Brandon trailed off as he caught a glimpse of a policeman’s carriage parked outside the townhouse. When the cab came to a halt, he could see James sitting on the townhouse steps, holding a blood-soaked rag to his scalp. “What the devil?”

Theo followed his gaze. “Isn’t that your driver?”

“Yes.”
Larken!

His heart in his throat, Brandon fumbled for money to pay the cab. Without waiting for change, he jumped down and sped toward the waiting policeman. Myles and Theo followed.

“What’s happened?” Brandon demanded. “Has anything happened to my wife?”

The policeman shook his head. “I don’t know. All I can get out of your carriage driver is nonsense. Something about a pirate.”

Panic came over Brandon, but he forced himself to stay calm.

“Go inside the house, Myles.”

“But—”

“Now!”

The boy’s lower lip jutted out, but he did as he was told. When he was gone, Brandon knelt in front of James.

“Where’s Larken?”

The driver was ghastly pale. “I was having a smoke outside the orphanage, when a pirate walked up to me with a long dueling pistol. Then something hit me from behind. When I woke up, my hat and jacket were gone, along with Mrs. King and the carriage.”

Theo’s expression was the picture of disbelief. “A
pirate
, did you say?”

“Yeah. He wore a fancy frock coat and one of those feathered hats…” With his available hand, James drew a triangle in the air over his head.

“A tricorn hat?” Theo supplied.

“Yeah. And he had a big black beard and an eye patch. One of his front teeth was missing…although I think it was just blacked out.”

Theo and Brandon exchanged a dumbfounded glance.

“Sounds exactly like a costume from a musical melodrama we did last year called
The Pirate and the Patrician
,” Theo said. “Someone at the Adelphi must be involved, and I would wager good money it’s Simon Kemp.”

“But why kidnap Larken?” Brandon asked.

“I don’t know.”

“If your wife has been kidnapped, you should be receiving a ransom note,” the policeman said. “Let us know when it comes.”

“That’s it?” Brandon was disgusted. “Aren’t you going to the theatre to investigate?”

“I understand how you feel, but we can’t go running around London chasing down wild geese. When you get a ransom note, we’ll have a look at it and proceed from there.”

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