Nowhere Near Respectable (33 page)

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Authors: Mary Jo Putney

BOOK: Nowhere Near Respectable
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Chapter 40
They made the trip to London as fast as wheels and horseflesh could take them. Will, who apparently could see in the dark, took over the reins when the postilion that came with the hired horses proved to be too conservative a driver.
Kiri and Mackenzie rode inside the small carriage. Exhausted by his ordeal, Mackenzie was able to sleep even in a vehicle traveling at high speed across a landscape of cold winds and scattered rain.
He ended up folded over with his head and shoulders in Kiri’s lap. She stroked his hair tenderly, shaken by how close he’d come to death.
What a strange, wild month she’d had. When she’d visited Godfrey Hitchcock’s family, she had been rather restlessly looking for a husband and not finding any satisfaction in her hunt. Now she had discovered service, passion, and adventure. How could she go back to her tame former life? Much as she loved making perfumes, she needed other occupations.
She managed to doze some, one hand holding on to a handle to keep from being tossed from the seat, the other resting on Mackenzie’s shoulder. One way or another, soon this would be over. . . .
Mac awoke stiff, bemused, and confused—except for the fact that Kiri was curled into him as they bounced along in a carriage. A gray carriage blanket covered them both, blocking the drafts.
It took him a moment to recall all that had happened. The ride to Dover. Finding a carriage. Almost passing out from exhaustion once he was in the vehicle. He had a vague memory of stopping to change horses at posting houses. He remembered Will telling the postilion that he would take over the driving. Even though he was supremely easygoing, if Will wanted to do something his way, it got done.
Now it was morning, though impossible to guess the time with a heavily overcast sky and a light, spitting rain. Mac stared out the window at a landscape that was moving by fast. They weren’t far south of London.
Hard to believe that catastrophe hovered over Britain in general and the royal family in particular. Reality was Kiri resting in his arms, beautiful beyond belief even with circles under her eyes and her dark hair falling in tangles.
She was the most amazing female he’d ever met as well as the loveliest. He had thought he’d drowned and gone to heaven when he woke up to see first Will, then Kiri. Having his big brother ride to his rescue wasn’t surprising—Will had always been the best and truest person in Mac’s life, and he never, ever let down a friend.
But Kiri was a high-born titled lady. How many such women would come charging halfway across England on a dark and stormy night because a sorry fellow like Mac might be in trouble? And how many would have been able to find a smugglers’ hideout that they’d barely seen in the first place? Will was immensely capable, but he’d never been to the cave, and could not have found his way without Kiri to guide him.
He kissed her forehead with gossamer tenderness. It was impossible to imagine living without her—yet even more impossible to imagine how they could be together for always. Though this time-out-of-time was almost over, he would never forget how special Kiri was, nor how lucky he was to have had the chance to love her.
She shifted, then opened her eyes sleepily as she tucked a hand inside his coat with sweet intimacy. “Beds are much, much more comfortable.”
He grinned. “Are you saying I’m not as good as a mattress?”
“You are harder and lumpier than a mattress, but you do have your uses,” she said, mischief gleaming under her dark lashes. “Where are we?”
She was right about him being harder. “We’re coming into London. I’m guessing at the time since my watch was stolen by Howard, but we should reach Westminster a couple of hours before the ceremony begins.”
“Good.” She stretched hugely, covering a ladylike yawn with one hand. “I wonder if we’ll have a chance to change into more respectable clothing.”
It would be easier to convince royal officials of the danger if they didn’t look like a pack of tinkers, but after a moment of thought, he shook his head. “That would cut the timing too close.”
“We can’t risk that,” she agreed as she looked ruefully at her dirt-spattered cloak and divided riding skirt. “I wonder . . .”
Before she could finish her sentence, catastrophe moved from potential to shatteringly current when Mac heard the unmistakable
crack!
of a breaking axle.
“’Ware!” he cried out as he wrapped himself around Kiri to prevent her from injury. As the carriage careened off the road and onto its side, he wondered despairingly if the prince regent and his daughter were doomed.
Kiri found out that Mackenzie made a very decent mattress. By protecting her with his body, she survived the carriage crash shaken but undamaged. The vehicle skidded and pitched to the left before smashing down at a severe tilt. As motion stopped, Kiri heard the screaming of frantic horses and the whir of the two wheels that were now up in the air.
She’d landed on top of Mackenzie. When she lifted herself free of his sheltering arms, she was horrified to see blood pouring from a wound where the side of his head had cracked the window frame. “Mackenzie, can you talk? How hurt are you?”
He opened his eyes, blinking dazedly as he brought her face into focus. “Banged my head. Nothing seems broken. You? Will?”
“I’m fine. I’ll check on Will as soon as I’ve bandaged your head wound.” She managed a shaky smile. “I don’t want you to see your own blood and pass out.”
“In that case, I’ll close my eyes.” Which he did. He looked shaken, but apart from the head wound, he didn’t seem badly hurt.
Will’s saddlebags were traveling in the carriage, so she opened them and found a clean shirt. She yanked her knife from the leg sheath, tore the shirt into strips, then used the carriage blanket to blot away the blood saturating Mackenzie’s hair. She found a laceration that was messy but not deep.
After cleaning away as much blood as she could, she swiftly pressed a pad made of folded shirt over the wound, then secured it with a fabric strip wrapped twice around his head. A scarlet stain showed in the middle of the pristine white linen, but the improvised bandage didn’t saturate. “That will do for now. I’ll see how Will is doing.”
“
Quickly!
” Mackenzie struggled to push himself to a sitting position.
Kiri flattened a hand on his chest and shoved him down again. “Stay still for a few minutes. If you get up now, you might fall over.”
“You’re probably right.” He drew a rough breath. “But please, tell how me how Will is, or I’ll be coming out right behind you.”
“I shall.” The carriage was tilted so severely that the right door was slanted over her. When she pulled herself up on the door frame, the vehicle rocked back onto four wheels again. She clung grimly when it bounced level, the front sagging because of the broken axle. “Are you still all right?”
“Slightly better for sitting upright.” Mac started to move cautiously.
“
Please
stay there for a few minutes,” she said. “We don’t want the bleeding to start again.”
“Good point,” he muttered.
She grabbed the rest of Will’s shirt and swung to the ground. The horses quieted down due to the efforts of the postilion, who had retained his seat on the near leader when the carriage crashed. “Are you and the gentleman all right, miss?” he asked worriedly.
“Well enough.” She looked about anxiously. “What about Major Masterson?”
“Over there, miss. I haven’t looked at him because I had to settle my team.”
She followed his gesture and bit her lip when she spotted Will. He had been thrown from the driver’s seat into the muddy field and he lay unmoving on his side. Half a dozen swift steps and she was kneeling by him. “Will, can you talk? Are you hurt?”
He exhaled roughly and rolled onto his back. “Not so bad, lass. The mud cushioned my fall.” He gingerly tested his left forearm with his right hand and gasped with pain. “I’ve cracked or broken a bone in my arm, though.”
She raised her voice and called, “Mackenzie, your brother isn’t badly hurt.” They had been very, very lucky. Letting her voice drop to normal, she continued, “Will, I’ve already used part of your clean shirt to bandage a scalp wound on your brother, and now I’ll use the rest to bind your arm and make a sling. Can you sit up if I help?”
“Maybe.” He looked somewhat skeptical, but when she slid an arm under his shoulders, she was able to get him upright. He caught his breath sharply. “You’re strong, Lady Kiri.”
“Because I’m not much of a lady. Let me slide the coat off your left arm.” She began to chat to distract him from what would be a painful process. “Did the axle break because of the speed we were traveling?”
“I didn’t think so. We didn’t hit any unusual ruts or holes in the road.” He winced as she started to ease the coat off his shoulder. “If the axle was already weakened, traveling at high speed might have brought it to the breaking point.”
By the time the left arm of the greatcoat was off, Will was sweating and Kiri was ready to have strong hysterics. She didn’t like hurting friends, no matter how necessary it was. Not wanting to put him through that again, she bound his left forearm over the sleeve of his regular coat. A proper bonesetter could look at it later. All she could do now was immobilize the bones so they didn’t hurt him so much.
“Where did you learn doctoring?” he asked when she helped him slip his arm into the greatcoat. He winced, but it was too cold to forgo the warmth of the coat.
“I was a ghoulish child and always wanted to watch when the regimental surgeons were fixing men up. They’d usually send me out if there was some really appalling injury, but otherwise I was allowed to watch and learn.”
She used the last of the shirt fabric to make a sling. “A good thing you’re so large. One shirt went a long way.”
Mackenzie emerged from the carriage, holding on to the door frame for balance but looking reasonably well. “I’ll ride one of the horses to the next posting inn, then come back with two good riding hacks. We can’t wait for a blacksmith to repair the axle.”
This accident had already cut into the margin of time before the ceremony. Trying not to fidget visibly, Kiri inquired, “Only two hacks?” Did he intend to leave her here for her own safety? If he
dared
suggest that . . . !
“Will can’t ride with a broken arm,” Mackenzie said. “He can visit a surgeon in the next town while we ride into Westminster.”
“I’ve traveled farther in worse shape,” his brother said dryly. “All of us must go. Remember, I’m a peer and have the right to attend the State Opening. If I’m there when this is explained, it will save time. If you can help me get onto a horse, I guarantee I’ll be able to stay aboard.”
“He’s right,” Kiri said. “We all hold different pieces of this.” As she watched the postilion unharness a horse for Mackenzie to ride, she wondered if they would arrive at the Palace of Westminster just in time to see the bomb go off.
One could have too much adventure.
Chapter 41
They made good time going into the city, but their pace slowed as they neared the Palace of Westminster. “A good thing we’re on horseback,” Mac said as they slowly worked their horses through the crowded streets.
The State Opening had brought out huge crowds despite the unpleasant weather, and a carriage would have been stopped dead. At least horses commanded respect, so they were able to move faster than they could have on foot. Though not by much.
Kiri rode behind him, a warrior queen in truth, steely and determined. No one could see her and not know she had royal blood. Will brought up the rear, his face gray with pain. Despite his broken arm, he hadn’t slowed the pace on their ride into the city.
They turned a corner and were now beside the palace. An honor guard of soldiers lined both sides of the route taken by the sovereign. Will frowned as he looked at the royal standard snapping above the palace in the damp wind. “The royals have arrived and the official ceremony might be under way. Time for me to take the lead.”
Moving with care, he urged his horse forward through the crowd. One of the men shouldered aside shouted, “’ Oo the bloody ’ell do you think you are, mate?”
“Aye, we been waiting out ’ere in the rain all mornin’!” another man snarled.
“Ain’t that Damian Mackenzie, the one what they said died a few weeks back?”
Kiri raised her voice, cutting through the babble. “We are here on a matter of Princess Charlotte Augusta’s safety! Please, let us through! This is truly urgent!”
No man could look at Kiri’s lovely face and pleading eyes and not be moved. “Let the lass and ’er friends through,” someone said. “Maybe they be chasing frog spies!”
The burst of laughter that followed wasn’t particularly respectful, but the crowd parted enough to allow the horses through single file. They reached the entrance to the palace. Military guards completely surrounded the building.
“We are here on a matter of the utmost urgency!” Will barked in a parade-ground voice. “Let us through!”
“Sir, I have my orders,” a corporal said uncertainly.
“And I’m countermanding them,” Will snapped.
Recognizing authority, the soldiers stepped aside to allow the three riders through. As they swiftly dismounted, Kiri said, “I’ll go into the chamber. As a female, I might be able to get closer to the princess.”
Mac, who was helping Will from his horse, thought his heart would stop. “Kiri, please don’t go in there! The bomb could go off at any second.”
“Don’t be absurd, Damian.” She flashed a reckless smile that made him remember that she was warrior as well as queen. “Why should men be the only ones allowed to die for their country?”
It took only moments for her to be off her horse and climbing the steps, leaving her tired mount for one of the guards to secure. A hard-faced army captain approached, narrow-eyed and suspicious. “What is the meaning of this?”
Will straightened to officer posture. “I am Major Lord Masterson, and we have reason to believe there will be an attempt to blow up the House of Lords at any moment.”
The captain looked offended. “The yeoman of the Guard have searched the cellars every year since 1605. There are no barrels of gunpowder hidden there.”
“This year, the bomb is in the Woolsack and only a fuse shows in the cellars,” Mac snapped. “Can you swear the yeomen would have seen such a thing?”
The captain paled. “Perhaps . . . not.”
“We’re going into the cellars right now,” Will ordered as he headed into the building. “I’m a member of the House of Lords as well as a serving officer, and I have some idea where to look.”
“And I know who will be lighting the fuse,” Mac said as he walked at his brother’s side, uttering every prayer he knew that they weren’t too late.
As she approached the Lesser Chamber that housed the Lords, Kiri mentally summoned the arrogance of her royal Hindu ancestors. She was a queen with a life-or-death mission to perform, and she would not be denied.
A colorfully dressed official in front of the massive doors turned his long staff sideways to block her passage. “Halt! No entry to the House of Lords!”
She gave him her fiercest glare. “I am Lady Kiri Lawford, sister to the Duke of Ashton and Princess Charlotte’s chosen companion. I have urgent need to speak to Her Royal Highness
and you will let me pass!
”
Before the guard could decide whether to block her passage, Kiri had swept the staff aside with the strength that men never expected her to have. She stepped into the vast hall, seeing the familiar moon-shaped windows near the high ceiling and the great tapestries on the walls.
When Adam had brought his family here, the chamber had been empty except for the ghosts of lords past. Now it was packed to the gills with scarlet- and ermine-robed lords and well-tailored politicians and members of the House of Commons. MP gathered in the Lords to hear the royal speech because by tradition, the sovereign was barred from entering the Commons.
The prince regent was seated at the far end of the chamber, his massive carved and gilded throne no less magnificent than his massive and sumptuously robed self. And damnably, Princess Charlotte was perched below the throne on the scarlet square of the Woolsack, her eager gaze darting around the room as she waited for the ceremony to begin. If the bomb exploded, she and her father would be killed instantly.
Hearing pursuit being organized behind her, Kiri swept down the left aisle that ran the length of the room. Eyes began turning toward her. Lord Liverpool, the prime minister, looked startled. He signaled to guards to stop her. Kiri dodged the first and deftly put the second onto the floor.
As she approached the Woolsack, Princess Charlotte turned and saw her. Face lighting up, the princess rose to her feet. She was wearing the perfume Kiri had made for her. “Lady Kiri! What’s wrong?” Charlotte waved the guards off. “Is this about the matter you discussed with me?”
Giving thanks for the princess’s quick mind, Kiri said, “It is indeed, Your Highness.” Her voice dropped. “This chamber must be evacuated immediately. Please, come with me!”
Before Charlotte could answer, the prime minister and the prince regent himself had converged on her. “What is the meaning of this?” the prince thundered.
Kiri dropped to one knee, looking as humble as she knew how. Was the prince regent a Highness or a Majesty? Deciding to go with the higher title, she said in a low voice, “Your Majesty, I bring word of a traitorous plot. We believe a bomb has been hidden right in this chamber, and it might explode at any moment.”
As the prime minister and prince stared at her, aghast, her brother appeared at her side. She hadn’t seen him earlier in the sea of scarlet velvet robes, but as a duke he was seated in the front row only a few steps away.
Adam took Kiri’s arm and helped her up, his grip firm. “This is my sister, Lady Kiri Lawford. She has been helping to investigate a treasonous plot. If she says there might be a bomb and the chamber should be evacuated, I believe her.”
“Your sister, you say?” The regent’s startled gaze moved from Adam, dressed in the full ceremonial garb of a peer of the realm, to Kiri, who was filthy and wore her divided skirt, along with a number of splotches of Mackenzie’s blood. “You have the same eyes. Very well, Liverpool, evacuate the chamber until we decide the merit of Lady Kiri’s charges. Charlotte, come with me.”
Looking more excited than afraid, Princess Charlotte said, “Yes, Papa.” She and her father departed by a small door tucked into a corner of the room near the throne.
Kiri’s relief was so intense that her knees might have given out, but Adam still held her arm. “How probable is a bomb?” he asked quietly.
“Very, very probable. The chief conspirator is Lord Fendall, so he had access to the House of Lords.” She shuddered. “The plan was to put it inside the Woolsack.”
Adam stared at the Woolsack, appalled. “Fendall. I scarcely know him, but if I had to pick possible traitors in this house, he’d be on the list. He’s a dangerous combination of ambition and malice. But we can talk about that later. For now, we’re leaving the chamber.”
Kiri scanned the seats where the peeresses sat. “Is Mariah here?”
“No, thank God. She wasn’t feeling well.” Invoking ducal rank, Adam took a quick look around the churning mass of confused people, then led Kiri toward the same door the prince and princess had used, since it was closest and the least busy.
As they headed away from the Woolsack, Kiri’s blood chilled in her veins as she smelled the unmistakable acrid odor of burning gunpowder.
The nightmarish search through the cellars of the Palace of Westminster had Mac’s heart beating like a frantic drum. At least they knew the rough location since the fuse had to be below the chamber of the Lords, but it was hard to be sure of the right direction in the dark maze of corridors and dusty rooms stuffed with old furniture, piled documents, and less identifiable objects.
“What are all those piles of wooden sticks?” he asked as he looked in the first room after they’d descended the stairs to the cellar.
An elderly warder had joined them, and he was struggling to keep up with the younger men. “Tally sticks, sir. Used to record accounts for men who can’t read or write. Elm wood, you know. Notches are cut in the stick to represent pounds and pence, then the stick is split with half going to the creditor and half to the debtor. A receipt, so to speak.” He smiled fondly. “We have tally sticks going back to the Plantagenets.”
Mac stared at the huge piles of wood in horror. If any kind of explosion was set off, the whole damned palace would burn like a Guy Fawkes bonfire. “Will, where to?”
“This way.” A lantern in his good hand, Will led since he had been down there before and had an excellent sense of direction. Mac and the captain followed close behind with the warder farther back holding another lantern.
Moving at a near run, they soon reached a long corridor lined with drab doors. Will said, “We’re right below the House of Lords now, aren’t we?”
“Aye, sir, you’re right,” the warder confirmed. “There are a dozen storerooms along here.”
“Then we’ll have to search all of them,” Will said grimly.
The warder and captain set to work methodically at the near end of the passage. Will leaned against a wall and closed his eyes, his face damp with sweat.
Frowning, Mac followed his nose to the end of the corridor. He’d become much more aware of scents since meeting Kiri, and he thought he detected a faint odor of burning black powder.
His pace quickened as the scent grew stronger. Directly overhead, he heard shuffling sounds that might have been footsteps.
Praying that people were evacuating the chamber, he reached the last door on the left side of the corridor. The scent seemed to be coming from the room, and an edge of light showed under the door. Wishing he was armed, he flung open the door, standing to one side so he wouldn’t be an easy target.
Swinnerton was inside. Expression avid, he watched the long fuse that hung from a hole in the ceiling. Slow flame crept upward along the cord. He must be waiting till the last possible moment before escaping so he could savor the imminent disaster.
Hearing the door open, Swinnerton spun around and reached into his coat for his pistol. “My God, Mackenzie!” he said incredulously. “Aren’t you dead yet?”
Mac threw himself into the room in a rolling dive. He calculated his trajectory so that he was able to kick the pistol from Swinnerton’s hand as he rolled by.
He halted under the dangling fuse and lunged to his feet, then leaped upward to grab the fuse above the burning section. The weight of his body yanked the fuse from the bomb hidden in the room above.
In an instant, the fuse went from lethal to harmless.
Not entirely harmless. Mac threw the burning fuse into Swinnerton’s face. “Like a cat, I have nine lives,” he panted. “I’m down to four or five, but I have enough left to take care of you.”
Swinnerton stumbled back, swearing furiously, as the burning fuse lashed across his eyes. “God
damn
you! It was a perfect plan! I would have been rich, a duke of France. Except for
you!
”
Mac scooped up the pistol, cocked it, and aimed. “It was a stupid plan. Do you really think blowing up half the government and peerage would make England want to make peace? Quite the contrary. It’s over, Swinnerton. You are about to get long-delayed justice for murdering Harriet.”
From his expression, Swinnerton knew he’d lost. Eyes mad, he dug into a pocket and drew out a fist-sized explosive grenade. “Maybe so, but you’re going to die with me!” He grabbed the burning cord from the floor so he could light the fuse of the grenade. “Rot in hell, you bastard!”
The grenade was only a fraction the size of the one they would have planted in the Woolsack, but it was big enough to kill the two of them in this small room. Mac fired the pistol at Swinnerton, trying to stop him before the grenade was lit.
The pistol misfired. Swearing, he threw it at Swinnerton and bolted out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

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