A Properly Conducted Sham (Most Imprudent Matches #5)

Chapter 40

Chapter Forty

BENNET HALL, SURREY - NOVEMBER 7, 1816

LEE

The weather was cooperative. The lake was like glass, mirroring the stars. Only the reeds and lily pads broke the reflection. The brisk night air chased away the clouds. And the moon was but the tiniest sliver, a suggestion more than anything.

When I’d set out for the observatory, I intended to take the time only to chart Leo Minor, as Charlotte suggested. But once I arrived and began, I decided the entire night sky was a more worthy gift for my sweet son.

The walk back to the house wasn’t quite frigid enough to be termed cold, but it was a near it. Snow would be upon us sooner than I wished. Perhaps the winter would be treacherous enough to keep Charlotte and Leo here a few weeks more. Maybe even a month.

Eager to see my favorite lady and little gentleman, I charged up the steps two at a time. It wasn’t until I reached the landing that I recognized something might be amiss. As it was, my gut understood before my head.

The nursery door was ajar, the bassinet still empty. When I peered over the side, I saw it wasn’t only empty—it was untouched. Not a wrinkle to be found. The longer I stared, the less sense it made. But my blood recognized the truth, frozen solid in my veins.

A frantic glance across the hall revealed another open door. Mrs. Hyde’s room.

Also empty.

Empty but for a burned-down candle on the table next to a piece of parchment.

One, two, three steps to rip it from the polished wood desk.

Charlotte,

I have the child. Bring ￡5,000 and meet me at 36 Earlham Street as early as possible. We’ll leave and start our life together at last, my love.

W

The letter shook with my trembling hand and the periphery dimmed. Not the way it did in one of my attacks. No. This was something entirely different. This was a rage the likes of which I had never experienced.

I was going to rip that spineless little weasel apart with my bare hands.

A thousand needs welled up inside me, each fighting for precedence. I needed to vomit, but a scream caught in my throat, pushing the bile back down. My lungs had no interest in performing their intended function. My hands itched to shred the letter into dust and crush beneath my feet.

And worst of all was the tiny, miniscule part of me that wondered if Charlotte wanted to go with him.

Clammy hands grabbed my shoulders, turned me around, and shoved something into my grasp.

“—to London!”

The voice registered midsentence, finally reaching a pitch that drowned out the ringing I’d just noticed.

“What?”

“Lady Champaign—she’s ordered a carriage to London right this moment!” I finally recognized Brigsby’s distressed tone.

Lady… “Charlotte?”

My limbs unfurled, allowing me to stumble toward the room I’d left her in.

Fumbling at the door, I slung it open only to stare uncomprehendingly at the tossed bed coverings. At the pile of night clothes at the foot of the bed.

She was… gone.

Instinctively, my hand rose to my mouth, a peppermint falling in. Someone—Brigsby—had shoved it there. The burst of mint restarted my mind. Charlotte wasn’t gone. She wasn’t—she hadn’t left me—she wouldn’t. She was going after our son.

“Has she left yet?” I blurted.

“No, not yet. She sent me to find you.”

Relief flooded me, leaving my limbs loose and ungainly. My back found the wall without thought and I was grateful for its support.

Precious seconds we didn’t have ticked away while I caught my breath. Finally, my lungs stopped hitching with every breath.

Charlotte needed me. Leo needed me.

I shook away the rising darkness. “Pack a set of warm clothes for us both. Wake Mrs. Griffith. Find out what Charlotte requires to travel safely, then have her follow us at first light.”

Brigsby blinked at me slowly for a moment, then two, then snapped into action. I couldn’t blame the man. I, too, was astonished at my own sudden coherence.

I stumbled down the stairs, two, three at a time and out the side door closest to the stables. Seconds that felt like days passed before I reached her.

She was an apparition in white against the inky night sky, directing every man she had found to hitch the carriage. Her appearance belied the commanding tone as she ordered the men.

I could no more have stopped myself from wrapping her in my arms than I could have stopped the sun from rising. Small, so small, and trembling, she burrowed into my chest.

Words intended to comfort poured from me, but I only heard vague murmurs, entirely drowned out by the sob that escaped her. Objectively, I understood it to be a quiet, contained sound, but it echoed in my chest, a staccato ache in my heart.

“Stop gawking and hand me that tack,” came from one of the men—Jack. I nodded my thanks to his back. He had already turned to the horse.

“Lee…” Charlotte whispered, wresting her head free from where I’d pressed her close. “Lee… he’s going to… he has…”

“He’s not going to do anything. He won’t hurt Leo. Hell, she’s probably not more than an hour or so ahead— Who readied her carriage?” I shouted.

All but Jack froze, suddenly remembering I was massive and scarred to hell. In the tepid glow of the lanterns, I was certainly terrifying.

“No one, sir,” Jack piped in, tossing the lines over a horse’s back where they slapped a petrified stable boy in the face.

“I didn’t say stop. I asked who readied her carriage!” The men flinched simultaneously before jumping back into action.

“Best I can figure, she had one waiting for her just out of sight, around the bend. Either a hack or someone picked her up.”

“Thank you, Jack,” I replied. After pressing my lips to Charlotte’s temple, I added, “She had to sneak out and walk around the bend. She can’t be more than an hour ahead.”

“Halfway to Lond—” Charlotte broke on the word, another sob escaping.

My reassurances were interrupted by Brigsby with a small trunk bouncing at his side as he jogged to us.

“Thank you, Brigs.”

He hefted the trunk onto the back of the carriage and strapped it down. Then he turned back, brushing his hands off before shoving them in a satchel. Without a word, he shoved an entire bag of peppermints directly into my pocket.

“Do you want your mount saddled?” he asked, trepidation echoing in the quake of his voice.

Until that second, I hadn’t realized what I was about to do. I was about to climb into a carriage that I would push to the absolute limits. At night. Lit only by lantern.

Instinctive horror ripped through me, but I fought it back with everything I had. Charlotte needed me. Leo needed me. She couldn’t ride, not in her condition. And I couldn’t—wouldn’t—abandon her to the carriage alone. It wasn’t an option. Not this time.

“No,” I said, shaky and tentative. “No.” This time it was clearer, brighter, certain. Determined.

An infinitesimal fraction of the tension left Charlotte’s body.

I shoved another peppermint in my dry mouth and crunched until my teeth gnashed the shards.

Mrs. Griffith came panting up the gently sloping hill, her arms laden with blankets and who knew what else. Wordlessly, she shoved the items into the carriage before rounding on me.

“If you ordered her to stay, would she?”

“What?”

“She shouldn’t go—has no business going. It’s dangerous. She’s at a delicate time—there could be infection, and she’ll be in unbelievable pain. But she won’t listen to me. I’ve learned that much of her resolve and will in the birthing bed. Do you think she would listen to you?”

I shook my head. Never in my life had I been so certain. Nothing would keep her from Leo. She would square off against the devil himself if need be, and not even a directive from Christ could stop her.

“Help her stay clean. I know you won’t stop the carriage, but when you arrive have her walk around a bit. There’s pillows and blankets to cushion things for her. As well as items to help her clean up. We’ve discussed how to use them already. I’ll follow at first light.”

“All right.”

“Lord Champaign?”

“Yes?”

“Tear him apart,” she ordered.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. I’ve never—this is the worst thing that’s ever—” Her words weren’t behaving. But I knew what she meant. What Parker had done… It was a level of cruelty that was unfathomable.

Charlotte shivered in my arms. I ripped my coat off and tugged it around her shoulders before tucking her against me once again. The boys were almost finished with the carriage.

Sensing my wariness, Charlotte dipped her hand into the coat pocket, pulled free a peppermint, and held it out to me, her palm trapped between our bodies. Gratefully, I took it.

And then I watched, heart in my throat, as the stable hands hung the lit lanterns in the carriage. The first one rocked on its hook, swaying back and forth innocently. It was almost polite as it threw fractals of light along the dark velvet seat. One beam shone through the window, directly into my eye, taunting me, challenging me. I pulled in a deep breath.

Jack set about placing the other lantern on the opposite side, that one no less worrisome for its steadiness.

Without a word, the stable hand, still eyeing me warily, opened the door beside us.

Charlotte pulled away and gingerly climbed into the conveyance. I was left alone in the pitched, charred night.

With valor I pulled from an unknown reserve, I strode to the carriage. I couldn’t give myself time to pause, time to think. Instead, I ducked and stepped inside, my breath trapped in my throat, my eyes caught on the wavering, deadly flame.