The House in Grosvenor Square (25 page)

A
fter the O'Brien's manservant, Mr. Edwards, had helped Master Peter into bed, he went to his mistress's chamber and knocked firmly at the door.

Mrs. O'Brien soon came awake in an instant alarm and pronounced, “Who is it? Come in!”

When Edwards, an old man, approached with a look of apprehension, her fear grew even greater. “What is it, Edwards? What has happened?”

“'Tis Master Peter, ma'am. He has taken a blow to the head, I believe.”

“What? Goodness gracious!” She hurried out of her bed, grabbed her robe from a chair as she passed, and wriggled into it while walking hurriedly to her son's room. Edwards had closed the drapes in the room, and it was dark as they entered, but she took the servant's candlestick, held it over her son's head, and moved him gently to get the better view. She gasped and covered her mouth in horror.

She met Edwards's eyes. “Send for the doctor.”

“The apothecary, ma'am?”

“No, not this time. I want a real medical man! Call for Doctor Henderson. He's a bit further and much dearer, of course, but I trust him.” The old man nodded in a sort of bow and turned to go. “Edwards—”

He looked back at his mistress expectantly.

“Hurry!”

When the door shut quietly behind her, she was on her knees beside her son's bed, with her eyes shut and her hands clasped together in prayer.

Mr. Mornay suddenly realized that Ariana would not be safe enough at
Hanover Square. Tonight's business had been proof that she was truly in serious peril. How could he allow her to be out of his sight after this event?

He was still supporting her with one arm. He kissed the side of her face and then her forehead. “I haven't prayed with such difficulty since the night I gave myself up to God for the taking. O'Brien was praying too. I could tell. But I couldn't bring myself to speak to him, much less pray with him.”

She pulled herself away a little and said, “You missed an opportunity. Prayer is more powerful when believers unite together in it.”

“Yes, so I've learned. But I'm afraid I was not at my best. I'm still not. I'm feeling positively venomous, and if anyone dares cross my path again tonight—”

“Shhh.” She put a finger to his lips. “All is well now.”

“Not quite. Not until I've settled this business with Wingate.”

Her eyes widened. “That's the name Whiddington mentioned!”

“I know. And I'll see him about this.”

“Oh, pray don't! He called him a murderous blood! I couldn't bear it if something should happen to you—”

“Not another word,” he said soothingly. “Nothing for you to fret about. I shouldn't have mentioned it.” He stroked the sides of her face. But Ariana was not put at ease.

“You mustn't seek revenge, you know. It isn't given to us to seek revenge. 'Tis God's affair.” She paused, giving him an earnest look of such utter sincerity that he was touched. She was so close, so sweet—and he had almost lost her. He bent his head as if to kiss her, but she said, “Mr. O'Brien was right. We should not be together like this.”

“Yes, by Jove, he
was
right! I'm sure that's why I was ready to box his ears for it. I can hardly stand this any longer!”

Ariana bit her lip so as not to giggle at him, never imagining she'd see him so boyishly vulnerable on her account. He gave her a sideways look. “Forgive me. I haven't fully recovered from my fear of losing you.” She put her head against him while he added, “Until I see to this business, I must have your word that you won't leave your house.”

“Not at all? I cannot promise that!”

“Not without two footmen then. In fact,” he said, thinking it over, “I'll send some men or hire extras for the purpose.”

“I doubt that is necessary.”

“After tonight anything could be afoot, Ariana. I won't take a chance. I don't know yet what Wingate has in mind that he would dare to do anything
involving you. It's considered thoroughly poor form, you know, to involve a woman in a man's quarrel. But he's got no principles, and so there's no telling what could result with him. I will do whatever I can to see that you are not put in harm's way again.”

Staring at her earnestly, he said, “To think I could have lost you!” He kissed her again, and as they pulled up to her aunt's house, Ariana was kissing him back.

Afterward he said, “I'll take you in.” And when they were in the house, he added, “I may have to insist upon awaking your aunt, for I must speak with her.” But Mrs. Bentley suddenly appeared at the top of the steps.

“Oh, thank God!” she cried, hurrying rapidly down the staircase. “My dear!” The old woman came up to Ariana and reached to put her hands around the girl's face. “Thank God! You are unhurt?” Her eyes were filled with more caring concern than Ariana had ever seen her relation display toward her before.

“Yes, Aunt, I'm not hurt!”

“My dear, you are aging me, I am afraid.” But she blinked happily at her relation. “And now that Mr. Mornay has ensured your safety, I think we must both get some rest. You will tell me all about it later.”

“I want two of your best footmen outside her chamber door,” Mornay insisted.

“I just sent two men off with Mr. Pellham—to see him safely home. He stayed here with me all this time. We hoped and prayed that Ariana would be safe—”

“In that case, I must take Ariana to Grosvenor Square,” he interjected.

“Your house? Whatever for?”

“For safety. With two of your men gone and those who would harm her at large, I dare not risk another opportunity for them to lay hands on her.”

“Mr. Mornay, this house is every bit as safe,” she began, but her tone was weak even to her own ears. Ariana's abduction had been a terrible fright for her, and the old lady wasn't feeling strong. But she raised a reasonable argument. “The servants would be thoroughly scandalized, I assure you! No such thing! She is safe enough here.”

“I cannot agree.” His look was calm but firm. “There is nothing of consequence that can prevent her coming with me. Any reasonable person must see the wisdom in my wishing to keep her beneath my own eyes under the circumstances.”

But even Ariana did not think it proper. “'Tis no good, sir. I cannot
stay at your house, and I am astonished that you of all people should think it possible—”

He turned her to face him fully. “Our wedding is in six days. You may live in my house, and I will remain in the servants' quarters if I must! But I shall not leave you here. Indeed, the more I think on it, I am astonished it did not occur to me sooner.”

She reflected on his words for a moment. “Six days. I think I can promise to keep to the house since you feel so strongly about it.”

“No. I realize that I suggested that earlier, but it is not sufficient.”

Ariana was tired and had no will to argue. Not at the moment. She saw by his eyes and tone of voice that he was determined to have his way in this. Mrs. Bentley said, “She will go later when I can find a chaperone for her.”

“Are you not her chaperone?” he asked.

Mrs. Bentley blinked at him. “I am, but when I am not well—and I maintain I am not well after this vexatious night, worrying over Ariana, not knowing what might befall her—I simply cannot abandon my house in this condition. I can only be comfortable in my own bedchamber, I am sorry to say, but it's the truth!”

He looked at Ariana. “Shall we send for Miss Herley?” Remembering that he knew full well that the Herleys were in possession of two items from his house made her gratitude for him swell to a billowing peak of affection.

“I do love you!” she responded. He instantly took both her hands, basking in her approval. Mrs. Bentley blinked again. She had missed something of that exchange, she was sure of it. How could sending for Miss Herley have elicited such a response?

He turned to Mrs. Bentley. “'Tis settled then. I will leave it to you to send for her friend while I get Ariana settled at my house.”

“
You
get her settled? I should think not!” She turned, strode to the bellpull, and gave it a few good yanks. “I will send two maids with you. Harrietta is out for the day because she slept at her sister's house last night, but at least I'll know my niece has my own servants for chaperones.”

“I will have my housekeeper stationed outside her door,” said Mr. Mornay, for he had had enough and was intent on moving things along.

“Your housekeeper! Sir, there is no one who would accept the word of your own servant in a matter such as this! That will not answer! You will take two of my own maids to stay with her.”

“I have adequate servants—” he started to say, but Mrs. Bentley took the
extraordinary measure of interrupting him. Her concern over the situation was her excuse.

“If these men find that Ariana is at your house, will it not prove as easy to waylay her at some hour there as here?”

“No.”

His short response did not satisfy. “Why not?”

“Because I live there. And I will see that it is not.”

It took courage, but Mrs. Bentley persisted. “But you will be gone, at least some of the time, trying to apprehend these men yourself, did you not say so?”

“I will never leave her without a proper guard. I have more men in my household than you.”

Ariana quipped sleepily, “I feel as though I were the crown jewels!”

Mr. Mornay looked at her. “No. You are much more valuable.” To Mrs. Bentley he added, “No one will expect me to take her beneath my own roof, as you have already perceived. Therefore it stands that she is safer there.”

Mrs. Bentley had one last qualm. “Sir, I am her relation and her chaperone, and I cannot like this arrangement. I feel it is too likely to spawn rumours and suspicions!”

“I don't care a fig about rumours!” stated Ariana, too tired to care.

Mr. Mornay met the eyes of the old lady, who cried wide-eyed, “I am responsible for her!”

“Not anymore.”

“You are not yet her husband, sir!”

“Then send for Mr. Hodgson this moment, and I'll be her husband! He is number 15, Grosvenor Street.”

This alarmed the lady. Mr. Hodgson was the rector of St. George's. “There is no need for that! Do not disturb the rector at this hour.” Her look changed. “You
will
wait six more days, sir! And you
will
behave yourself if she is beneath your roof!”

Mrs. Bentley sounded so severe that Mr. Mornay, who never minded when other people gave him a comb, had to smile ever so slightly. “You have my word.”

Taking her hand, Mr. Mornay led Ariana firmly from the house and into his carriage. The coachman had fallen asleep atop the board and had to be
awakened. And then two maids came rushing out, holding onto their caps with one hand and small valises with the other. They looked very alarmed but stowed their luggage and jumped on back of the board for the short drive.