The Mysterious Lord Marlowe (15 page)

‘Yer said yer would help me if I told yer the truth.’

‘You must pray that Miss Lanchester is alive when we find her,’ George said, his mouth tight with anger. ‘You may then escape with transportation. If she is harmed in any way, you will hang for your part in this business.’

‘Damn yer,’ Rab muttered. ‘Yer all the same, bloody aristocrats—arrogant bastards the lot of yer.’

‘I may well be arrogant,’ George said, ‘but I keep my word. If Miss Lanchester is found alive and unharmed, I shall do my best to see that your sentence is lighter than it would otherwise be.’

George signalled to the gaoler and was allowed to leave the cell. He breathed deeply
as he went out into the fresh air. The stench of Newgate was too well remembered from his previous visit here and a part of him sympathised with the rascally innkeeper. Yet the man had no doubt played his role in this business willingly for money.

The rogue who had snatched Lady Fanshawe and Jane was the man who deserved the ultimate punishment. Blake must hang for what he had done.

George’s lips thinned as he strode through the streets. He would go straight to Lady Mary’s house. He must tell her and Jane’s brother what he had discovered.

* * *

‘Jane is here?’ Andrew looked at his sister’s godmother, then put a hand to his face in relief. He sat down in a chair opposite her. ‘Thank God for it! Where is she? I need to know exactly what happened.’

‘Jane is in bed. When I looked in on her she was sleeping. My housekeeper made her a tisane and I think it soothed her. She was very distressed. Overwrought, I should say.’

‘Yes. It was a terrible experience for her.’ Andrew’s expression was grim. ‘Did she tell you anything?’

‘Some garbled tale of having struck someone and escaped. I really could not make head or tale of it, Andrew. I am sure she will explain it all to you when she has reco—’ Lady Mary stopped speaking as the door of her parlour opened and the housekeeper entered. ‘Yes, Mrs Scott?’

‘Lord George is here, ma’am. He asked to see you or Lord Lanchester.’

‘Oh, tell him to come in,’ Lady Mary said. ‘We have excellent news.’

* * *

Jane woke, yawned and stretched. She had not slept for very long, but the rest had refreshed her, settling her nerves. The kidnap and imprisonment in the inn had not distressed her as much as her escape. The way some of those wretched people had looked at her as she became lost in a maze of dark alleys had been frightening. She had not realised that such awful places existed.

Although she had heard of the terrible slums in parts of London, she had never before seen them for herself. The utter despair she had witnessed had been a shock and a revelation for her. Her own brush with the underworld had made her realise what hopeless lives the people
in those lanes must live and her heart had been touched. She had found her brief experience horrifying. What must it be like for women and children forced to live in such an environment?

Jane could only imagine what kind of things went on in the derelict houses and inns she had seen during her flight. If she could be held captive at the whim of one man, how many other young women were forced into lives of degradation and shame? And what of the children she had seen huddling in doorways?

In thinking of others, she had pushed her own distress to a small corner of her mind, where it must remain. Jane was too sensible a girl to let her abduction play on her mind, even though she understood she must be very careful in future.

As she approached her aunt’s parlour, she saw the door was partially open and she could hear the sound of voices from inside.

‘Jane is safe now and that is all that I care for,’ Lady Mary said. ‘This squabbling between you two must cease for her sake. As soon as she is well enough, I shall take Jane to Bath. If you wish to arrange some kind of surveillance for her safety, that is your business, Andrew, but I
will not have her shuffled off abroad as if she has done something wrong.’

‘The tales are everywhere,’ Andrew said, and Jane could tell that he was angry. ‘I was asked twice this morning if it was true that you and she had eloped together.’

‘And what did you say?’ Lord George answered. ‘It would have stopped their tongues at once if you had told them we are engaged.’

‘Now that is a handsome offer, in my opinion,’ Lady Mary cried. ‘You must see that Jane’s reputation may suffer, Andrew? Surely it makes sense to accept Lord George’s offer? Jane likes him well enough—and left to herself she may never marry.’

‘My sister has no need to marry unless she wishes,’ Andrew replied. ‘I have no desire to see her wed to a rogue.’

‘Andrew!’ Lady Mary exclaimed. ‘Have a care. You should not insult a fellow gentleman.’

‘I would call you out,’ George replied, ‘if I could be bothered—but you are behaving like a spoiled schoolboy. I am extremely fond of your sister—and it would be a sensible solution. As my wife, Jane would be accepted in the best society. Any scandal would be swept under the carpet and it is the honourable solution…’

‘Damn you, my sister does not need your charity.’

‘Why do you not let Jane decide for herself?’ Lady Mary suggested.

This was so humiliating, to hear them squabbling over her future as if she were something shameful to be brushed under the carpet.

Having heard more than enough, Jane pushed the door wide and walked in. She raised her head, her cheeks hot as she saw their guilty looks.

‘Thank you, Godmother,’ she said with remarkable dignity. ‘I am old enough to make my own decision, which is that I shall go to Bath with you.’ Her eyes turned on Andrew proudly. She was every inch the capable and calm lady of independent means. ‘I believe I have no need of your permission if I wished to marry, Andrew.’

‘Well, no, but the fellow helped kidnap Lady Fanshawe. You cannot wish to marry him, Jane?’

One glance from her speaking eyes caused him to fall silent.

‘I do not consider that I have done anything that makes it imperative for me to marry to save my reputation. Whomever or whether I
wish to marry is my affair and mine alone.’ Her gaze fell on George; it did not become any warmer. ‘I am most grateful for your generous offer, sir. However, I think your gallantry misplaced. As Lady Mary will tell you, I have never had the intention of marrying. Nothing that has happened recently makes the slightest difference.’

‘Miss Lanchester—Jane—how are you?’ George asked, his gaze moving over her with concern. ‘I have been told of your escape and I was delighted to discover that you were safely home. Once again you faced a difficult situation bravely. I cannot tell you how glad I am that you were not harmed.’

‘You are good to be concerned, sir.’

George’s expression did not change a fraction, his gaze unwavering.

‘I am sorry you should have overheard a foolish exchange with your brother. I fear that both of us are guilty of speaking out of turn. I quite understand your reasons for not wishing to accept my offer—but I assure you it was made for the right reasons and not charity, as Lanchester suggests.’

‘I know you to be a generous man.’ Jane spoke stiffly because inside she was hurting.

She had been placed in an impossible situation and there was only one way of dealing with the embarrassment of having heard their quarrel. ‘However, I see no reason for you to offer marriage out of a sense of duty, sir. I shall save you the trouble of asking. It would not suit me to be married at the moment.’

‘Jane dearest,’ Lady Mary said, ‘you might wish to speak to Lord George privately about this. Come, Andrew, I think we should leave them together.’

‘No, Godmother, please do not leave. I shall show Lord George to the door. We may say all that we wish before he leaves.’

‘You will be wishing me to the devil,’ George said. ‘Pray do not trouble yourself to see me out, Miss Lanchester. I am not worthy of your notice and shall try not to impose on your society in future. Ma’am, Lanchester, excuse me.’

Jane felt the tears sting her eyes as he walked from the room. He was angry. Her answer had made him believe that she disliked him and Andrew’s behaviour had been nothing less than rude. She wanted to apologise, but her pride would not let her.

She turned reproachful eyes on her brother.

‘I hope you are pleased with yourself, Andrew. You have insulted Lord George once too often.’

‘Jane…’ Andrew stared at her face. Something of what she was feeling must have got through to him, for he looked ashamed. ‘You could not wish to marry him? Not after what he did?’

‘He saved my life and he rescued Mariah. Had I not escaped, I dare say he would have done his best to find me this time.’

‘He paid Bow Street Runners to search for you,’ Lady Mary said. ‘And he offered to pay the forty-thousand-pound ransom if it was needed. I think he cares for you a great deal, Jane.’

‘He is a gentleman of honour, no matter what Andrew thinks,’ Jane said, her throat hoarse as she struggled against her emotion. ‘What he offered was exactly what I would have expected of him. You were insufferably rude to him, Andrew.’

Andrew looked uncomfortable. ‘I was angry. I did not imagine that you cared for him, Jane.’

‘I do not,’ Jane said and left the room quickly before the tears could fall.

Behind her, Lady Mary and Andrew looked
at each other in silence for a moment, then, ‘I didn’t think she really cared for him,’ he said.

‘She is in love with him,’ Lady Mary said and shook her head at his frown. ‘The best thing you can do, Andrew, is to take yourself off to your estate and leave your sister to me. Her pride is sadly bruised. Jane has borne her ordeal bravely but her emotions are in tatters. She needs to come to terms with her feelings. Lord George may decide that it is worth making another push to win her, but if he does not I must see what I can do to bring them together.’

‘Are you saying I should allow them to marry?’

‘Jane is old enough to decide for herself. She would wish for your blessing, but, if she once made up her mind, I do not think you could stop her.’

‘No, perhaps not. If she can twice escape from a rogue like Blake, she is capable of choosing her own husband.’ Andrew ran his fingers through his dark hair. ‘I suppose I was a bit rough on Marlowe. I have something of a temper.’

‘You were fortunate he did not call you out. You should write a short note of apology—
but say nothing of Jane. If Jane believes she is being coerced into a marriage to save her reputation, she will refuse it—as she did just now.’

‘Why did she—if she cares for him?’

‘She was embarrassed. Put yourself in her place, Andrew.’

‘I dare say you are right.’ He was rueful. ‘I shall apologise to Jane later—but Blake remains a danger. I must do something about protecting my sister.’

‘I think you may safely leave that to Lord George. He told you it was his intention to employ men to watch over her. Write and accept his offer of help in the matter of Jane’s protection—and apologise. I shall make certain he is informed of any slight danger to her safety. Perhaps, when they meet again, they will come to their senses and admit their love for each other and then you must accept their marriage with a smile.’

‘You mean that you will find a way of bringing him to Bath if he does not come of his own accord?’

‘Exactly so.’

‘You are a very wise lady,’ Andrew said. ‘Excuse me, I shall write the letter at once.’

* * *

Jane was shaken by a storm of tears. She leaned against the door of her room and then locked it, not wanting to be disturbed. Her distress and embarrassment at hearing her brother and Lord George argue over her was acute. Andrew had been abominably rude, but that was not the worst of it. To hear him say that his sister did not require Lord George’s charity had cut her to the quick. What must have passed between them before her arrival?

What had Lord George said to make her brother deny him in such terms? Was her reputation so completely ruined that Lord George felt obliged to marry her? Clearly he had no wish for it or they would not have been discussing her in such a manner.

It was so lowering! She could not bear that he felt he must marry her. Andrew must have accused him of bringing her reputation into ill repute. Indeed, his insults might have demanded satisfaction had not Lord George been so forbearing.

It was simply not his fault that she had been kidnapped the first time. Jane knew that her reckless nature had led her into trouble and she had only herself to blame for what had happened.

Blake had told her that he had had her abducted out of a desire for revenge the second time, and that was as much her brother’s fault as Lord George’s. Jane’s own bravery had accomplished her recent escape, but on the first occasion she owed much to her rescuer.

She was in love with Lord George and, had he asked because he cared for her, she would have been happy to cast independence to the winds in favour of love, even though she might be making a terrible mistake for a woman of her nature. Yet knowing that she cared for him made the humiliation so much harder to bear. He had asked out of a sense of duty—because her brother had blamed him for ruining her reputation.

* * *

George stared moodily out of the window. It had just started to drizzle with rain, which, on top of the way he was feeling, was highly depressing. He knew that he ought to have expected Lanchester’s anger at his proposal. What brother in his right mind would wish to see his sister married to a man who was the cause of her abduction?

He kicked moodily at an inoffensive and very attractive music stand. Jane had been
very dignified, but she had looked pale and was clearly in distress. It was no wonder after what she had been through. Having been to the inn where she was held captive, George knew what it must have been like for her in the surrounding lanes and alleys. Alone and fleeing for her life, she must have been terrified.

How brave and beautiful she was. He could hardly fault her for refusing his proposal. George knew himself unworthy—yet he could not help a tiny spark of hope flaring. Something in her eyes had told him a very different story.

He had avoided speaking to her alone, knowing that she must have heard what was being said and would not understand. He had offered because his own feelings were involved, but had couched his offer to her brother in a way he thought Lanchester might find acceptable. Well, it had backfired on him and now he must think again.