The House in Grosvenor Square (27 page)

Lord Antoine had gone against his better judgment from the beginning. He may have been careless, reckless, and selfish. But not so much a son of Lucifer that he could terrify a young lady of good character to no purpose. He knew, even if his brother did not want to admit it, that Mr. Mornay had only done what any upstanding person would. He was right to warn the Herleys, dash it! And they had no one to blame for his being right except themselves.

Lord Wingate released a torrent of oaths at his back before finally leaving the place. As soon as he stepped out of doors, he saw a man he knew he could hire for his cause, and in a few minutes had done so. A short time later, they found a carriage at the curb and persuaded the coachman to abandon it by brandishing pistols in his face. It was only a short time then, since Wingate had come upon Antoine, that he found himself heading once more to Hanover Square—his mind set on extortion more than ever.

He was in a rage over Antoine's betrayal. He let his head fall back—he had to think,
think
! In minutes he realized that his brother's assistance was not vital for his plan to work.
I have a little money left; enough to pay my new “coachman” to help me confiscate the girl. Once I have Miss Forsythe in my power, Mr. Mornay is certain to open his purse. My brother is a cork-brained idiot, and when the deed is done, I' ll give him nothing. Not a shilling!

When Ariana left the house with Mr. Mornay, Mrs. Bentley released a disheartening sigh. She was not comfortable with Mornay's decision, but she did not have the energy to go with them and serve as chaperone herself. It would mean no sleep for her, and she was utterly fagged as it was. Miss Herley! She had to send for her!

About twenty minutes later, Haines was on his way to fetch the young woman and bring her back to Hanover Square. He had orders to say that Mr. Mornay had requested the girl for the sake of his future wife. Mrs. Bentley wanted to see Lavinia before sending her off to Grosvenor Square. Miss Herley had to understand the utter seriousness of what was expected of her. She was to be not just a friend to Ariana but her companion, a chaperone. As such she could not go traipsing about town or doing anything apart from Ariana. That Ariana was staying in the house of her betrothed before the wedding was rather extraordinary. Every effort must be made to ensure that it was not made to seem even more so by adding a hint of scandal.

The Paragon had sent for Miss Herley? What could be afoot? How exciting it seemed to the family that Mr. Mornay had called their Lavinia for Miss Forsythe's sake! She was speedily dressed and packed and on her way to Hanover Square in little more than an hour.

She had no sooner entered and was standing in the hall removing a light shawl when Mrs. Bentley came toward her saying, “Do not remove your shawl, Miss Herley!” She seemed a bit breathless but explained, “Mr. Mornay has already taken Ariana to Grosvenor Square—you must join her there. You are to be a companion to her—a chaperone actually. On the way there, I will tell you everything you must know to do it properly.”

Miss Herley stood there blinking. “A chaperone? Me? But you are also coming?”

“I am only seeing with my own eyes that you get there, my gel. After that I am returning to my house and going to bed directly! And I want no interruptions for the rest of the day! I have had precious little sleep this night—and worry and vexation—and I am determined to get my rest later. That is why I had to call for you, my gel. I cannot be Miss Forsythe's chaperone at Grosvenor Square. She must have you.” She had finished tying on her bonnet and said, “Come! Let us go!”

“I do not understand,” said the young woman, as they left the house. “Why has Mr. Mornay taken Ariana to his house?”

“Oh, my word! You haven't heard! Come, come, into the carriage, and I shall tell you all.”

Inside the vehicle Mrs. Bentley said, “I am grateful to you for being available, I must say.”

“Not at all,” Miss Herley replied politely. “I am happy to be of service, I assure you.” She took her shawl and draped it around her head, as she often did when trying to preserve an especially nice hair design. Last night's card party had given her mama incentive to have Lavinia's hair done. A local lady allowed her maid, who was exceedingly talented with regard to the latest styles, to be “rented” out, so to speak, just for such occasions. A good shawl around one's head, Lavinia had learned, helped much to maintain the style for at least an additional day.

“You see, it is like this—Ariana was abducted last night!”

“What! How?” Lavinia's composure was shaken.

“Oh, I don't know the particulars yet myself. Someone named Wingate was behind it, I think.” Miss Herley's features froze. Lord Wingate was Lord Antoine's brother! Could it be the selfsame man she referred to? But why would he do such a thing? Mrs. Bentley noted her expression but misinterpreted it. “Yes, exceedingly horrid, isn't it?”

“Upon my soul, yes!” Lavinia couldn't have meant it more. “Was Miss Forsythe harmed?” she asked with great trepidation.

“Not bodily though she swooned, you know, for the first time in her life.”

“Perfectly understandable!”

“Indeed! But this is not to the point. I am not able to stay at Grosvenor Square with her, though I will come by as often as possible. But your presence is necessary so that there is no question of impropriety. Mr. Mornay could not feel that Ariana was quite safe with me at Hanover Square, though I daresay she would have been. Why
do
men take these strong notions into their heads? But the thing is you must be on hand at all times. You are not to be her friend only for your own amusement or pleasure, Miss Herley. You must be more than that. You must be a chaperone. You must rise above the call of mere friendship.” She stopped suddenly. The older lady looked at her questioningly. “Do you think you can manage this?”

Miss Herley was listening very intently. She had never heard Mrs. Bentley speaking quite so quickly and with so intense a manner. “Of course!” She was a bit taken back by the question. Why shouldn't she manage? Ariana was not some spoilt child to give her difficulty. “I see no reason why I should have any difficulty whatsoever, Mrs. Bentley.”

“Very good. That is precisely what I hoped to hear from you.” They were just nearing the Square at the end of Upper Brook Street when a carriage shot out rather suddenly and then had the audacity to block the intersection.
Haines hurriedly reined in the horses and gave his most disdainful look to the driver of the vehicle in his path.

A man exited the carriage and came toward Haines. In an aristocratic tone, he said, “I say, but this
is
Mrs. Bentley's coach, is it not?”

Haines's look changed to one of wary curiosity. “It is.”

“Excellent. Will you hold your horses for a moment while I have a word with your mistress?”

Haines glanced at the carriage still in his path. “I have no choice but to do so, sir.”

The man smiled. “Indeed. No, I suppose you do not.” He moved on to the door of Mrs. Bentley's carriage, where she had been looking out the window and wondering what on earth was holding them up. Giving her his most charming smile, he opened the door and said, “Mrs. Bentley, I beg your pardon. I'll only take a minute of your time.”

“Who are you, and what do you want?” she demanded.

He pulled out a pistol and pointed it right at her heart saying, “I am a man who has been wronged, and what I want is this young woman.” He looked at Lavinia. “Come with me this minute, or this old lady dies!”

M
iss Herley was too agog for a moment to move or do as he said, despite the very real pistol pointing at Mrs. Bentley. She merely grasped the ends of her shawl as if for strength and swallowed in distress.

To the older woman's shame, the moment she saw the barrel of the weapon aimed at her heart, she was instantly filled with a most sickening feeling. She had just been about to open the door of the carriage to give Haines a good comb on stalling for so long, when the man had appeared at the window.

She was now staring down the barrel of his gun, and the sickening feeling was becoming worse, violently worse.
Oh, my word, I am going to be shot!
And then all went black.

Lavinia gasped when Mrs. Bentley slumped over, but the man said, “Come, come, we haven't got all day!” As she began moving toward him and the door, he said, “Now wear a smile and keep it on until I tell you otherwise.” There were people about, and the coaches in the road were beginning to cause a crush of traffic. When the driver saw his accomplice leaving the plush carriage with the young woman, he moved his equipage out of the way, pulling it over to the curb.

Haines, meanwhile, had grown suspicious of being stopped as they were. He couldn't release the horses and couldn't abandon his perch atop the board, or he would have climbed down to check on his mistress. He heard the carriage door open again, however, and then saw Miss Herley and that shabby gentleman leave.

“Hey there!” he shouted at them. Lavinia's look of utter distress mixed with hope—for she was encouraged that Haines had noticed her—was enough to cement his suspicion that something was amiss. He had taken the precaution of bringing a pistol with him and now pulled it from his pocket.

Lord Wingate moved Lavinia along but revealed his own pistol. He then pointed it back at Lavinia's side, so that the butler, who wasn't fluent with the use of weapons in the least, could not risk taking a shot and had to lower his. For a second or two, Haines watched the couple leave. He grew angry, then pointed his gun in the air, and fired a report. He jumped at the loud noise, but the ensuing panic on the street unfortunately only resulted in giving the criminal even more freedom to hurry his victim along.

Haines cracked his whip, intending to waylay the other vehicle with Mrs. Bentley's coach and perhaps stop this outrage, but then something happened that made him turn off Upper Brook Street instead. As he approached the rogue's coach, the man with the pistol pushed Miss Herley into it and then turned and pointed his weapon straight at Haines, approaching head-on! With eyes widened with fear, the butler turned the equipage onto Grosvenor Square and sighed with relief, though it was only a partial relief. Miss Herley had been nabbed right from under his nose, and he had still to ascertain that his mistress was safe.

To the footman who came forth from house number 25, he yelled, “Move sharply! Take these reins!” Haines jumped down hastily and opened the carriage door. For a moment he froze with dread. There was Mrs. Bentley, slumped on the seat unconscious! Was she dead? Haines was all aflutter, but he had the presence of mind to feel for a pulse and found one.

He breathed a sigh of relief. Someone inside ran for smelling salts, and soon Mrs. Bentley was awake. She came to with a start saying, “What! What happened?” But then she remembered and, seeing no sign of Miss Herley, fell into great distress. Haines himself had to insist that Mr. Mornay be summoned. Mrs. Bentley had her head in her hands and was sitting in the carriage rocking with regret.

“Oh, my word! Miss Herley abducted! Right from my own carriage! Her parents will blame me, I warrant! That odious man had a pistol!” Freddie at first refused to wake the master, but Haines reminded him in no uncertain terms that Mrs. Bentley was the relation of his future mistress. Not only that but Mr. Mornay had sent for Miss Herley, who was now abducted!

When the man finally went to inform his master, Haines went out to coax his mistress from the carriage and into the house. Instead, she saw him and cried, “Haines! Take me home! On the double!”

“Ma'am, Mr. Mornay is on his way to receive you.”

“Haines, are you quite deaf? I want to go to my house
now
!”

Under normal circumstances such a reprimand might have made the butler stiffen with wounded pride, but as he climbed atop the board, taking the reins from one of Mornay's footmen, he felt relief instead. Mrs. Bentley was returning to her usual self.

“What do you want from me?” Lavinia's voice was tense, and her tears were threatening to spill over. She had just learned that her dear friend had been abducted the night before, and now it was happening to her! Why should it be so? It was absurd, but it was true! She remembered that Lord Wingate had been named as the perpetrator, and she wondered now if it was him whom she was dealing with.

He led her to a serviceable carriage and ordered her to embark. When she hesitated, he pressed his weapon, which he was hiding beneath his coat from the scope of onlookers, into her side, so that she had no choice but to do as he bade. Lavinia knew she was not equal to this. Ariana had somehow survived her ordeal and was safe again. Could she hope to do the same? She did not have Ariana's pluck or nerve—or faith.

Mr. Mornay had fallen wearily into bed not two hours earlier. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so tired, and yet he was conscious of the nagging restlessness that made him wonder if he could sleep. Not only was Ariana in a bedchamber down the hall from his, but he was still disturbed by the close call she'd had. The close call
he' d
had. The thing was he needed to know for sure what Wingate's motives were. Was it truly revenge? He'd never given much thought as to whether his curmudgeonly ways were creating enemies—he hadn't cared. But now it mattered. Now it involved Ariana. If there was something in his power that he could do to make things right with the man, he needed to find out what it was. And if not, the man needed to be arrested at once.

Far too soon he heard a firm knock, and it took a few seconds longer for
his groggy brain to come awake. Freddie entered his chamber and approached the bed. “Sir, Mrs. Bentley was on her way here when her carriage fell into mischief. She requires to see you at once, sir.”

“Has Miss Herley arrived?” he asked.

“No, sir. Miss Herley has been abducted.”

“What? Miss Herley?”

“On her way here, sir.”

“Where did it happen?” He was already out of bed and pulling on pantaloons, though his weariness from the previous night and the worry concerning his bride made him feel as though he moved at a snail's pace.

“On Upper Brook Street, sir.”

With a repressed oath, Mr. Mornay muttered, “Get my carriage ready— the closed curricle. Put a second footman outside the guest bedroom.” Frederick waited, recognizing when his master had not yet done issuing orders. “Be certain, if I delay long, not to allow Miss Forsythe to leave the premises. You must tell her that it was my express wish that she stay here until I return. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

As an afterthought Mr. Mornay added, “Have Mrs. Hamilton keep company with her. I don't want her alone for a second.” Mr. Mornay had to get dressed quickly. Miss Herley had been abducted on the way to his house, for Ariana's sake, so he had no choice but to try and help the girl.

He checked that his pistol was loaded and ready for firing. He put it in a pocket of his coat, as well as a few extra bullets and his loading kit.

When he arrived at Hanover Square twenty minutes later, he was tired and not in the best of dispositions. When he saw the state of the unflappable Mrs. Bentley, however, his heart sank even more. There could be no mistake that Wingate was serious. What really worried him, however, was the thought that Miss Herley had probably been mistaken for Miss Forsythe. In which case, it was his beloved they were really after.

It was his beloved that he must never allow them to get.

Once safely inside her own house, Mrs. Bentley had made her way to the ground floor sitting room—she was too weak to reach her chamber— and the nearest sofa. Haines quickly put a groom in charge of the coach and horses and hurried into the house after her. He sent one footman for
a doctor; another for Mr. Pellham. He sent for the local constable and the nearest beadle. He sent a man to the houses of the night watchmen and the known charleys. Even the rare policeman might be around and should be sent for. He sent for anyone he could think of sending for until nearly every servant employed at Hanover Square, save Cook and the scullery maid, were to be found running on the streets of Mayfair in search of some personage or other.

He was also considering whether to notify the Lord Mayor when men started arriving. He had sent a cordial to his mistress and ordered a bracing breakfast of cold meats and coffee for her, but soon the ground floor sitting room was bustling with officials. Mr. Mornay and the doctor, Mr. Peabanks, had arrived. The food was left on a side table and was picked upon by the assembled personages, who finished it all off neatly in no time.