Loving Lady Marcia (41 page)

“Did anyone
try
? Where was the earl?”

“Gone,” Aislinn managed to say. “Drinking at White’s. I was upstairs with Warren when we heard the commotion in the entrance hall. Jenkins tried to oust them, but he’s old and couldn’t do anything but stand there and say, ‘You’ll hang for this,’ over and over, to try to scare them away. They just laughed in his face.”

“Poor Jenkins. What else, Aislinn? Tell me!”

Aislinn took a shallow breath and went on. “I locked Joe away in his bedchamber with Margaret. Warren was with me. He told me to stand back. And then he grabbed his blunderbuss and stood on the stairs and brandished it at the men, ordering them out. But they pointed their pistols at Jenkins and said they’d shoot him if Warren interfered.”

“Oh, dear God,” said Marcia.

“So then Warren was forced to put his blunderbuss down, and Mr. Lattimore took the stairs two at a time, straight past him. But Warren tried to fight him.”

“Where was Rupert?”

“Oblivious in the stables.” Aislinn sniffed. “Mr. Lattimore pushed Warren down the stairs,” she said low.

Marcia’s heart lurched. “Is he all right?”

“Yes, thank God.” Aislinn’s face twisted. “And then Mr. Lattimore made me open the door to Joe’s room. He said I’d better be quiet and friendly so as not to frighten Joe.”

“And? Did he take him?”

At the girl’s nod, stark, cold fear gripped Marcia.

Aislinn’s expression showed disgust. “He told Joe he was taking him to Astley’s to see the horses.”

“Where are they now?”

“No one knows. By the time we got Rupert to saddle a horse and Warren up and about, they were long gone.”

“In a carriage?”

“Yes. A plain, black hackney. But there are loads of them around London.”

“Has anyone gone to find Lord Chadwick?”

“Warren did.”

The carriage was already at the front door.

“Let’s go,” Marcia said, and tugged Aislinn along with her.

*   *   *

Brandy. Ah, thank God. Why had it taken so long for more brandy? It was trickling into Duncan’s mouth, mixing with the taste of blood.

“Wake up!” a voice shouted in his ear. The voice was concerned. Desperate.

Duncan groaned. His lip hurt like the devil. And so did his stomach. And his jaw.

He felt a sharp slap to his cheek. “Lord Chadwick, Joe’s in trouble. Wake up
now
.”

His eyelids flew open, and he sat up, his head spinning.
“What’s wrong with Joe?”

“Cor, it’s like he’s risen from the dead,” he heard a waiter say.

Warren pulled him to his feet. “Your brother took him.”

“Finn? Where are they?”

“No one knows.” Warren’s voice sounded shaky. Frightened.

Duncan would literally murder his brother if he saw him right now.

They strode quickly down the hall, past numerous rooms filled with gawking men.

Duncan stood stock-still at one point. “If any of you louts with the bad taste to run about Town with my brother has the least idea where he is, come out now and tell me. If I find out later that you knew and didn’t share the information, I’ll have your heads.”

He waited a moment. Only Lord Green appeared. And he certainly wasn’t a lout.

“He was staying with us for a while, you know,” the earl said timidly. “We had to ask him to leave when he came in one too many times drunk and made a pass at my wife’s maid.”

No surprise there. “Sorry about that, Green. I did warn you not to fall prey to his charm.”

Lord Green scratched his head. “You live and learn. He said he had a place to stay over by St. Paul’s. Above a haberdasher’s, actually.”

“Thank you,” said Duncan. “I owe you a great debt, Green, which I’ll pay slowly, one brandy at a time.”

Lord Green saluted him as he and Warren moved on.

Duncan finally realized that Warren looked bloody awful. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing worse than what happened to you,” Warren replied. “Your brother and I fought. He had two ruffians brandishing pistols with him and a bunch of papers saying he could take Joe and no one could stop him.”

“The cur.”

“Lord Westdale and your cousin are ahead of us. They left minutes ago. They’ve already gathered a team to check all the posting inns out of London.”

“Thank God.” Duncan took his cape from the doorman, threw it quickly over his shoulders, and donned his hat. The more he blended into the crowd, the better. “I’ll need to think about where he could have gone if he’s still here. He’ll want to bargain with me, of course. This is all about money.”

And possibly revenge. He wouldn’t think of what could happen if Finn merely wanted to get back at him.

Joe.

Duncan said the word in his head like a prayer.

Outside, he got a second shock. Amid the usual sights and sounds of London, all he could focus upon was one figure: Lady Marcia Sherwood, on a bloody horse. One of
his
, as a matter of fact. “What the devil are you doing here?”

“Your lip!” she cried.

“It’s nothing. And I have no time for conversation.”

“I know that.” She lifted her chin. “I’m coming with you.”

“You can’t,” Duncan said sharply.

“I most certainly can,” she replied.

“A woman on sidesaddle in this traffic will slow me down.”

“I won’t slow you down,” she said, “and I’m going. We’ll find him together.”

He swung up onto Samson. There was no time to argue the point. “Hold down the fort at home,” he told Warren.

“Sorry, my lord.” Warren looked abashed. “Rupert said my lady insisted she accompany you. She even made him go fetch a sidesaddle from the neighbors.”

“She tends to be that way,” Duncan said dryly. “If I need you, I’ll send a message.”

“Right, my lord.” Warren left on his own chestnut stallion.

Duncan moved into the street, refusing to look behind him at Lady Marcia.

“Don’t worry,” she called, her voice softer. “We’ll find him together. I know we will.”

He heard her speak to her horse, and then they were side by side, trotting swiftly down the street.

He didn’t want to admit it, but her presence gave him strength and comfort. “We’re going to check the latest place I’ve heard he’s staying,” he said, keeping it businesslike between them. “The posting inns are being covered. Your older brother and my cousin are leading that group.”

“Good,” she said.

Twenty minutes later, they found a haberdasher’s near St. Paul’s, but it was the wrong one. No one there knew of a Finnian Lattimore living above the shop.

But ten minutes after that, they found another two blocks over—the right one this time.

“I threw him out last night,” said the proprietor. “He didn’t pay.”

So Finn was seriously desperate.

“I don’t blame you,” Duncan told the man and tossed a couple of sovereigns on the counter. “Will this cover his rent?”

The shopkeeper scooped up the coins in a flash. “Oh, yes, my lord,” he said with enthusiasm.

“Any idea where he might have gone?”

“Hmmm.” The man drummed his fingers on the counter.

Duncan locked gazes with Marcia for a fleeting moment. And it was as if all their conflict fell away. What was between them was strong and true, not that he could dwell on that glorious fact at the moment.

“Oh!” The shopkeeper slapped his hand on the counter. “He said he was moving in with an old couple. That he figured they’d be much better to deal with than me.”

Duncan gave a short laugh. “But he probably didn’t say it so nicely, did he?”

The shopkeeper eyed Marcia. “No. He most certainly did not.”

“He gave you no other details?” Marcia asked him.

“Nope,” the man said.

“He said something to
me.
” A rather raw feminine voice came from over a shelf.

“What, love?” barked the haberdasher.

“He said her cookin’ would be better than mine,” she called back, sounding sorely aggrieved.

“Hey,” said the man. “That wasn’t nice. You’re the best cook in the world, love!” He winked at Duncan and grabbed his own throat.

“I saw that,” the woman said in menacing tones.

The shopkeeper turned beet red. “That’s it, my lord. I think you should go now.”

“Right,” said Duncan. He took Marcia’s arm, and God, did it feel good to do so.

She leaned into him. “Did that help?”

“Yes, it did.” He stopped a moment and squeezed her hand. “And your being here helps, too.”

“Thanks,” she said, her eyes so full of caring that his heart thumped painfully.

Soon,
he thought.
Soon I’ll tell her everything.

Once they were on horseback again, he said, “We’re off to the sweet little house.”

That had been her phrase for it. He remembered how beautiful she’d looked when he’d laid her on that sapphire-quilted bed.

“Really?” she answered him.

He stole a glance at her. A blush tinged her cheeks, but her chin was up. Her back was straight and proud.

“They’re an old couple,” he said. “She’s a good cook, and Finn could easily barge his way in without paying and make up some charming story so that they wouldn’t bother alerting me. He might have guessed I’d never bother checking there. And truthfully, I hadn’t even thought of it. It seemed too obvious.”

“I hope your guess is right.”

They fell into an awkward silence.

“I’m sorry about all that’s happened,” he said. “From the day I saw you in that dressmaker’s shop until now, you’ve been under a great deal of stress, much of it caused by me or Finn.”

She gave a short laugh. “Oh, that’s all right. I’m sure it’s been just as rough for you. You got roped into becoming a part of the House of Brady.”

“I wasn’t roped in,” he told her.

Their gazes locked. He could tell she didn’t believe him.

“I entered into this engagement freely.” He held his reins loosely and guided them past a cart of flowers. “I
want
to marry you.”

“So you’ve told me.” Her lips were pursed. “But I don’t care for the reasons why.”

“I mentioned several to you, but I have another.” Samson’s ears twitched, as if
he
wanted to know what that other reason was.

“What, then?” There was challenge in her voice.

“I love you,” Duncan said simply. “I think I started loving you long ago, before I even knew what love was. It was the day we were on the sailing packet, and you were so full of fire and passion. You were beautiful. Since that day, I’ve always thought of you as my own, special girl-on-the-prow.”

He heard her draw in a deep breath. “I—I have trouble believing it.”

“Why?”

She looked over at him. “I don’t know. Possibly it’s because you didn’t say it then—the first time I asked you why you wanted to marry me.”

“I wish I could go back. I wasn’t ready to admit it, even to myself.”

“Why?”

“I’ve had weeks to think about this.” He inhaled a deep breath. “I realize now I didn’t believe I deserved you.”

She gave a soft gasp. “Whyever not?”

“Because you’re perfect,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Long ago, when I told you I didn’t believe in a perfect love, I meant it. Life was about enduring, fixing mistakes so that I could survive another day and then start the whole process over again. I had no hope. No joy.”

He looked over at her, and she looked back, her expression tender.

“But then you came along,” he said, “and everything I thought I knew was challenged. I floundered. Badly. I was afraid to believe, afraid to get hurt again.” He swallowed back bitter memories. “I’d already tried loving my family, you see.”

“I know you did.”

They slowed the horses to let a crowd of boys cross the street.

“But despite all my mistakes”—they waited for the last boy to pick up the cap he’d dropped in the middle of the road—“I’m here now,” Duncan said, “telling you the truth. I want you to be my wife, Marcia, because I love you. You’ve made me believe in a perfect love.”

“I’m glad,” she said softly when the road was clear again.

Duncan saw her brush away a tear.

“But I’m not perfect,” she added. “There’s something about me you should know.”

“What?” he asked her.

She looked over at him, raw pain in her eyes, and then she looked forward again. They were in Mayfair now and passing through a nearly empty residential street.

“I slept with your brother,” she said loud enough for only him to hear. “On the night of my sixteenth birthday.
That’s
why he left for America.”

Duncan held her gaze a moment. “I knew that,” he said quietly, and looked straight ahead again. “It doesn’t change anything.”

“You knew?” Her voice cracked on the last word.

He stole another glance at her and saw her blinking fast.

“I found out the day after Finn returned from America,” he said. “It’s why he had that jaw. I have to admit, I decided to marry you that night. But I was doing so to restore the family honor.”

She gave a shaky laugh. “You’ve tried so hard, haven’t you, to fix things?”

“Yes, I have,” he said. “But as I got reacquainted with you, I realized how foolish I was to think I had all the answers. I fell in love with you. Hard. And now I can’t imagine living my life without you.”

He heard her sniffling.

“But … I was ruined,” she whispered.

He drew his horse to a halt, forcing her to, as well. “Don’t ever say that again,” he said gently but firmly. “You weren’t ruined. You’re precious and beautiful. What was ruined was your faith in yourself. And faith in other people. But those can be restored.”

She smiled through a few tears. “They already have. This very minute.”

“You started that journey at Oak Hall,” he reminded her. “Let’s just say I’ve helped nudge you along.”

“You’ve done more than nudge. I’m soaring … with happiness.” She leaned over and kissed him quickly on the mouth, then faced the road again. “But I’ll be so much happier when we find Joe,” she added somberly.

“We will,” he said.

They encouraged their mounts to pick up the pace, Duncan leading them through several narrow back alleys. The two riders were in perfect accord as they rode the rest of the way in purposeful silence.