The House in Grosvenor Square (39 page)

Meanwhile Lord Wingate was eyeing the expensive wallpaper and furnishings, and his thoughts turned to the practical matter of theft. Why settle merely for taking Miss Forsythe? There were numerous doors adjoining the rich hall with its marbled tiles, and he suddenly realized he might do well to avail himself of some treasures. The sound of his men on the next storey floated down from the direction of the staircase, however, and he pointed his pistol at the butler with renewed focus.

At that moment Mrs. Hamilton walked innocently out of a doorway, evidently coming from the kitchens. She stopped in alarm, her mouth opening slightly. Lord Wingate had not seen or heard her, and she slowly backed away, her eyes filled with a knowing alarm. The butler saw her but quickly removed his gaze so that he would not alert his captor to her presence. He prayed the woman would somehow quickly summon help.
Where was Mr. Fotch when he was needed?
He hoped Mrs. Hamilton had the presence of mind to run to a neighbor. There were footmen enough on the street to make up a small army, and he was certain the dwellers on the Square would willingly lend their men when they understood the threat. But would the housekeeper think of it?

Suddenly sounds came from the stairwell, and then the young women appeared, faces quite fallen, each held by one arm by a rogue with a weapon. When Wingate turned and saw them, his eyebrows rose and he smiled. “Well, well, this begins to make up for all, does it not? What do you call it? Two birds with one stone?” He gave a wicked laugh.

Mr. Mornay and the other men were leaving the East End to return to Grosvenor Square. He had to bring his steward back, for one thing. He would allow Antoine a short time to see his love—chaperoned, of course. And he would write a letter to the girl's parents, a recommendation of the marriage between their daughter and the young nobleman. Then after the pleasure of seeing his own future bride, the men would return to the East End to put Wingate in his place once and for all.

He was getting married in four days. He wanted to be done with this nonsense. Tonight would be an end to it even if it took him all night!

“Do not scream or raise your voices in any manner, or I will use this weapon.”

Lavinia said, “Listen to him, dearest!” Wingate had locked the butler in the pantry and pocketed anything he could quickly grab. He also threw some things hastily at his other men, who shoved them obediently into the great pockets of their coats, which, like Whiddington's, were fashioned expressly to answer that purpose.

He motioned for the men to move the young ladies out of the house, and in a moment they were being hurried, rather brusquely and at gunpoint, into the worn black equipage. Ariana was tense, but she could sense that Lavinia was terrified, and she held her hand bracingly. Two of the ruffians jumped on back of the equipage, so that only Wingate entered after them. A small relief but nothing to ease their tension.

“So this is Lord Wingate,” Ariana said, managing to keep her voice calm, although she remembered only too well that Mr. Whiddington had called him a “murderous blood.” The contempt in her tone was barely disguised, however. She was surprised to find that the dark-haired, finely featured man might have been considered handsome but for a mean glint in his eyes and a gauntness of features that spoke of hard living.

He studied her in turn. “I'm happy to see that you are as attractive as I've heard, Miss Forsythe. Mornay will pay a pretty penny for his pretty lady, I've no doubt.”

Mrs. Hamilton had run down to the kitchens in a flutter after seeing Mr. Frederick on the floor with a pistol pointed directly at his head. Upon telling Cook and the kitchen maids the situation, these ladies fell into such fits of fright that the housekeeper had been forced to quiet them before deciding what she ought to do.

It only took another minute or two to reach much the same thought as Mr. Frederick's—to approach the neighbors. She went out with just a shawl over her gown and headed next door to Derby House. She had to stop at the pavement, however, for upon coming up from the steps to the street, she saw that she was perfectly parallel to an unremarkable black coach, whose driver sat atop the board and would see her emerge.

When finally she saw him turn away and watch a passing wagon and its working class passengers, she darted from the service entrance and dashed to the next house, not daring to look back. Then she was forced to wait minutes to see Lord Derby. Her protestations that it was of the utmost urgency, that ruffians were in the house, and that ladies were in danger seemed to have little effect upon his servants or his lordship himself. By the time she emerged from the house with Lord Derby's footmen and his lordship, who brandished a pistol, it was just in time to see the back of the carriage leaving the square.

“What is your quarrel with Mr. Mornay? Why are you doing this?” Ariana asked.

He studied her for a moment, perhaps weighing whether to tell her or not. “That is not your concern.”

“As you are abducting us
,
I think it is. What is it you want precisely? We know it isn't us.”

Lavinia said, “Must you point your weapon at her? If the carriage bounces you may kill her! We are only two women, and surely you are not so frightened of us that you cannot put it aside!”

Ariana wanted to say, “Bravo, Lavinia!” but didn't dare. She squeezed her friend's hand instead.

Wingate smiled, but he rested the weapon atop his thigh.

“You look like a gentleman, sir,” Ariana said. “What is it that makes you abduct women who have done you no harm?”

Lavinia remembered her earlier encounter with this man and how frightened she had been. She would never have had the presence of mind that Ariana was displaying! How
did
her friend possess such courage? It was a mystery.

When Mrs. Bentley had been duly delivered to the servants' hall, where the staff was sitting, bound and gagged, her indignation reached a crest. Even Mr. Pellham, poor man, was among the prisoners and looking none too comfortable. It was not to be borne! The mouths of each person, further-more, were stuffed with her own expensive handkerchiefs and table napkins. It was distressing, indeed.

At the sight of Mrs. Bentley, the servants began a stream of indignation, making sounds from behind their gagged mouths as best they could. The man who had brought Mrs. Bentley looked around in surprise and then hastily tied the lady to a kitchen chair, though she rapped his arms and hands with her fan until it was no longer possible to do so. She berated him with her mouth all the while too, reminding him of his certain fate on a gibbet. Surprisingly he did not bother to gag her but turned and fled as soon as she seemed securely bound in place.

The men were in a hurry, and she knew why. Her servants were all looking deeply sorrowful. With their mistress a prisoner like themselves, their hopes of rescue seemed to sink. Mrs. Bentley knew she must free herself. Her binds did not seem as tightly done as the others, and she was determined to break free. She set about wriggling in her seat and straining at the cloths that had been twisted in a rope-like fashion to tie her to the piece of furniture.

“Do not fret,” she said aloud. “We are not harmed, and I
will
manage to free myself!” As an afterthought she added, “If it is the last thing I do manage!”

Mr. Pellham nodded at her encouragingly, and he even winked.

This gave her renewed strength, and as she twisted and strained, she felt certain she was making headway and that the “chains” felt looser. Moreover, her determination gave others more hope so that soon the roomful of occupants began to work at their own cloth binds with the same zeal. It was only a matter of time until someone broke free.

It was just growing dark by the time the Paragon's coach pulled to the curb in front of the house. The door opened before he'd even stepped down from the carriage, and he could see Freddie's face looked drawn and unhappy from where he stood. He hoped there hadn't been more trouble between his future bride and his staff—if it wasn't painful for the people involved, including Ariana, he'd have laughed at it. He just couldn't figure out
why
trouble should have started between them. His staff was well-trained, and Ariana was agreeable to everyone. It made no sense.