A Properly Conducted Sham (Most Imprudent Matches #5)

Chapter 42

Chapter Forty-Two

EARLHAM STREET, LONDON - NOVEMBER 8, 1816

CHARLOTTE

Celine had sacrificed her lowest-cut gown for this fraught endeavor. It was too tight and uncomfortable against my aching breasts. The lady herself was draped elegantly draped across the opposite carriage seat in an ill-fitting maid’s uniform looking every bit as lovely as she did in a ballroom. Even though I was cleaned up, I still felt wretched. Sore, disgusting, and nauseated.

Celine’s sickly sweet perfume wasn’t helping at all, and I missed Lee’s bright, comforting peppermint essence.

My heart hammered so hard it was a wonder it stayed contained.

“You look unwell. This won’t work if you cast up your accounts on his shoes.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re certain neither of them know your maid?”

“Yes. Imogen has been visiting family since before Mrs. Hyde arrived, and Wesley never concerned himself with such things.”

“Good. You must relax though. You’re in love. Remember? You must put him at ease, flirt with him, get him to talk.” If she reminded me one more time…

“My maid is much quieter. In case you were looking for performance notes.”

The carriage trundled out of Celine’s fashionable neighborhood and toward the warehouse district.

“That was funny, actually. Have you always been funny?” she asked.

“It’s usually at your expense,” I replied, distracted by the beginnings of the early morning bustle. “We should have taken a hack.”

“Where would you have arranged a hack in time in Surrey?”

“We stand out.” The hour was early, but seamstresses, chimney sweeps, fishmongers, and everyone in between who was about turned to watch the fine carriage roll along on their way to work.

“Charlotte, it will be fine. The worst that can happen is the bloodshed we’ve already discussed.”

“Yes, shots fired around my newborn babe. What could I possibly have to worry about?”

“I apologize. I’m being insensitive. It’s possible you may be the only person who hates him more than I do.”

“I apologize as well. I did not know about Lord Rycliffe, I swear.”

“No, I didn’t think you did,” she said, entirely sincere.

The carriage turned onto Earlham Street and eased to a stop. Celine drew up her cloak, covering the golden curls her cap couldn’t hide.

After a deep breath, I made to leave the carriage, but Celine’s cool hand found my wrist. “We’ll get him back. I promise.”

I nodded, feigning more confidence than I felt as I clambered out into the light. Celine stepped out after me, far too elegant for a maid. I was about to hiss a correction when a hack pulled aside down the street, and an impossibly tall figure stepped out.

Lee.

Three men followed him, the shorter, wiry form of Will, a similarly short, broader man with dark curls, and another man with a medium build and graying hair. I knew the other two only by their roles in this.

Will and the second unknown man stepped forward, crossed the street, and disappeared down an alley with a nod. That gentleman was the constable then.

Lee and the final man waited by the carriage. His eyes burned into mine, comforting even from such a distance. Much too far to make out the blue-gray color, but I took strength from its memory.

“Kit,” Celine explained, identifying the final gentleman as she tugged me toward the warehouse doors. Pulling me from Lee.

The brick building was long shuttered, windows broken and re-boarded several times over. The roof had seen better days, and holes were visible even from outside.

Apparently, Wesley’s family had been in textiles—procurement and shipping, if the sign was any indication. How little I had known the man I fancied myself in love with. He clearly hadn’t taken over his father’s efforts.

With a deep breath and a roll of my shoulders, I slid the door open and stepped inside.

The sweetest sound in the entire universe kissed my ears. Leo’s cries.

Celine pinched me low on the back of my arm before I could rush toward the side room where the sound came from.

Massive rolls of silks, wools, and cottons in every color of the rainbow—ruined by time, elements, and insects—lined one side of the room. They were stacked nearly to the ceiling and were surely blocking a back entrance. My stomach gave a jolt.

It was fine. Will and the constable could listen and come in the front entrance just as well. It was fine. Perhaps there was a third door I couldn’t see.

From the side room, I heard the hateful murmurs of Mrs. Hyde cooing at my Leo. Trying and failing to soothe him.

A few more rooms lined the other side of the space, farther from my son.

The entire place smelled of mildew and excrement. The only source of natural light came through several holes in the roof. The early morning sun fought its way through years of neglect and grime to wash, patchily, over the concrete floor.

And then an icy, smooth voice reached me from the far corner. “You made it.”

I whirled around with a breathless grin. It felt false and misshapen, but I was fairly certain I’d arranged my face correctly. “Wesley!” I cried, rushing toward him as quickly as I could given my situation.

He was disheveled, sooty, and worn in a way I’d never seen him. His usually close-cropped dark hair was overgrown and scraggly. The beard lining his jaw was unfamiliar and unflattering. And his eyes… There was something wild in those eyes I’d once admired. It was terrifying.

Cool, reptilian hands found mine. “Did you get it?”

“I did,” I replied. “And you, are you well? I cannot believe you’ve been living like this.”

From the other room, another frustrated cry escaped my son. The only reaction I permitted was a harsh grinding of my teeth.

“The money, Charlotte?”

I reached a trembling hand toward my reticule, shaking it at him. This was wrong. I was supposed to delay until he confessed.

Wesley grabbed for it, trying to snatch it off my wrist.

“Wesley! I brought it. Don’t be rude.”

His desperation was growing far too quickly. I opened the bag and slipped my hand inside. The massive roll of bills caught on the closure and I fumbled, tugging it free. He ripped it from my hand, unfurling the cash.

“Good, you didn’t bring a bank note.”

“I’m not a fool, Wesley,” I snapped.

Of course, he thought I was a fool, a mindless whore he could use, abandon, and then fleece when funds ran dry. Informing him that his plan was blatantly obvious to all but the most simpleminded twits who were desperately in love with him was not part of my plan.

His hand found my waist and pulled me closer. Like the rest of the place, he smelled of mildew and decay and I had to force down a heave.

“I’m sorry, my love. It has just been a trying time. Trapped here, and without the comfort of your love. I’m eager to start our new life together.”

Not for the first time since I read his note, I wondered if he actually meant to take Leo and me with him. He may have planned to run with the money. But… he was a man who enjoyed intimate relations and, once upon a time, I was a willing participant.

“As am I. I’ve waited so long. When do we leave?”

“The next ship departs the docks at noon.”

Leo gave another irate cry. “Can’t you stop him crying?” Wesley shouted at, presumably, Mrs. Hyde.

Her identity was confirmed a second later when she came out from the side room, my son in her arms. Tears pricked at my eyes and my throat knotted. He was the sweetest sight I’d ever beheld. It took absolutely everything in me not to rush for him, snatch him into my arms, hold him forever, and never, ever let go.

“He won’t hush,” she complained.

“May I?” I asked, breathless. This wasn’t part of the plan, but God himself couldn’t have stopped me from reaching for my son.

Wesley’s smooth voice had me aborting my efforts. “I didn’t realize you were so attached.” There was no room for misinterpretation in that frozen tone. Skepticism. He was catching on.

Swallowing the desperation for my wailing son, I turned back to Wesley.

“I just?—”

“It’s the crying m’lord.” I was floundering for an explanation when Celine cut in. “It’s grating for mothers especially.”

“And who are you?” he asked, eyeing her in a way that was simultaneously suspicious and appreciative. How had I found this charming?

“Imogen, m’lord. I couldn’t let my lady travel alone. An’ I din’ want to stay when that beast found out his wife and son was gone.” Celine was overdoing it quite a lot. And rather poorly. But I was suddenly grateful that he seemed distracted by her figure, disguised in ill-fitting maid’s garb as it was.

“It is true, dearest. The cries—they are just upsetting. And he might stop if he recognizes me,” I said, perhaps a touch too enthusiastically. The sound of my voice seemed to have Leo quieting a little. Just a few more minutes, my sweet boy.

Wesley glanced over at me, distracted, before returning to Celine. “Right, well, it’s a good thing we’re to leave him here then.”

“We are?”

“Of course we are.”

“But…” Why was I protesting?

“A ship is no place for a babe, Charlotte. And besides, your husband might come for the child. He won’t come for you.”

Wrong . I may be furious with my husband, but Lee would burn the world down for either of us. He’d risk even more scars without hesitation. I knew it in my bones.

“Of course, you’re right,” I agreed.

He hummed in acknowledgment. “Is your maid coming with us?”

Celine smiled flirtatiously at him. In the past, I would have thought it true, but now, having seen her with Will, I knew the falsehood in the set of her jaw and the fire of her eyes.

She was envisioning this man’s blood flooding the floor. And relishing in it.

“If you wish it, m’lord,” she replied with an eyelash flutter, her tone coy. “Anything to get away from that beast. He’s nothing like you. You’re such a handsome man. I know the rumors aren’t true. You couldn’t possibly?—”

“What rumors?”

“I heard rumors from that vile Juliet Dalton—Wayland. She said they’re saying you killed a man?” I asked, trying to keep my tone fretting and not accusatory. “But that’s absurd. You wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

On cue, the door slammed open with a heaving clash. The scent of peppermint cut through the filth. Framed there, silhouetted in the morning light, was a great, hulking beast of a man. Far more than six feet tall, broad and strong and perfect .

Lee.

The pitiful light from the ceiling caught the edges of his scars menacingly. He wore nothing but his shirtsleeves and trousers, the shirt hanging pitifully off him to display more of the ragged flesh.

Wesley gasped pitifully and a terrified cry escaped Mrs. Hyde.

Leo gave a more sedate coo, unafraid.

“Parker,” Lee said simply. His voice was low and menacing, but he didn’t shout. Instead, he was quieter than usual. If I hadn’t heard the same tone grumbled in my ear every morning, it might have been frightening.

“Champaign,” Wesley replied, a slight quake in the word.

“I believe you have a few things that belong to me.” Lee stalked forward a step with every word, and Wesley stepped back, a dance that ended abruptly when Wesley’s backside hit a table. Lee crowded against him, towered over him.

“They’re mine,” Wesley protested pitifully, more stubborn and desperate than intelligent.

“What’s yours?” Lee asked, false nonchalance in his voice.

“That’s my son,” Wesley argued again, finding a pathetic well of courage somewhere.

“No. He bears my name. He was born of my wife.”

“Everyone knows it’s not yours. Your name doesn’t make it so.”

“I think you will find it does. And he, not it .” Somehow, Lee found a reserve of height, straightening even farther over Wesley. The man’s head was hinged as far as it would go, and he could still only see chin.

“You know I have to kill you for this.” Lee added simply, as though it was a mere chore.

“You can’t. You’ll lose.” Wesley said in a half whimper.

“I can. Besides, the women think you couldn’t hurt a fly. Do you suppose I could squash you like one?”

I had to bite back a delirious laugh. If my husband was any less physically imposing, if the situation was any less terrifying, his threats would be amusing.

“I’ve killed a man before. I’ll do it again,” Wesley threatened, and relief washed over me.

Finally.

“Oh, really? You’ve killed a man?”

“I have, and for less than what you’re doing right now.”

“Do tell,” Lee said with dark interest.

“Rycliffe. He cheated me so I had him killed. I tricked him into meeting me. And then I had him stabbed,” Wesley bit out.. Pitiful even in this.

But there it was. The final truth. I could only hope the constable had heard. An astonished cry left Mrs. Hyde.

Lee continued, undeterred. “Oh, you had him killed? Couldn’t even manage that yourself. Pathetic.”

“Just because I’m not fool enough to kill a peer in cold blood, doesn’t mean it wasn’t my doing. In a fair fight there’s a chance to lose, so why would I fight fair?”

“It’s the gentlemanly thing to do,” Lee replied.

“I’m not a gentleman,” Wesley bit out, finding his anger. “I am no gentleman. This is my estate,” he gestured toward the rain- and piss-soaked room. “I’m not a gentleman, and no one will ever let me forget it. So, why, pray tell, should I abide by gentlemanly rules?”

“So you don’t end up right here,” a smooth voice replied.

Celine . I was so distracted by the argument, I hadn’t noticed her slipping around Lee to get closer to Wesley. I caught a flash of silver in her hand.

She pointed a dagger at Wesley’s lower back. He flinched when she pressed it harder against his flank.

“I’m not like you,” she added. “I finish my own battles.”

“Who are you?” he asked.

“You don’t recognize me?” She nodded to Lee. He grabbed Wesley by the shoulders and spun him to face her. Celine tossed the cloak off her head and pulled the cap free. It was the kind of dramatic gesture I never could have managed even with years of practice. “How about now?”

“La-Lady R-Rycliffe,” he stammered.

“You killed my husband.”

“No—No, I… My brother?—”

“Oh, but you just said—for everyone to hear—that ordering the kill was the same as performing it yourself.” Those words were whispered, hissed with so much venom it was a wonder they alone didn’t kill him.

“I—”

“Hand the child to his mother,” she ordered.

Everyone’s gaze except Celine’s found Mrs. Hyde and Leo. Reluctantly, the nurse stepped toward me and passed him into my arms.

The rest of the world dimmed, faded away, and it was the two of us. He reached a tiny hand out of the blanket, and I gave him a finger to grasp. My son was unharmed. Still soft and ruddy cheeked and sweet smelling, in spite of the filth. My tears dropped to catch on his dimples.

In my periphery, I caught distant curses and a scuffle.

Then a massive, warm hand found my lower back, so, so familiar and just as comforting. Lee’s other hand cradled his son’s head beneath mine. He pressed in close, shielding us from whatever fray was occurring behind him. Gently he guided me back and out of the way.

Lee caged us against the wall, his arms on either side of me. I peered around his shoulder when another curse rose.

Will had Wesley restrained by the arms, holding him back. Wesley was now bleeding from a wound on his lower side. He presumably owed the injury to Celine’s bloody dagger— when had that happened?

The other solicitor had Mrs. Hyde in a half-hearted grasp. She wailed and flailed about, but her efforts were mostly performative.

The constable merely stood between them all. His befuddled gaze flicked between the parties with a lost, haunted expression.

When it became apparent that the man hadn’t the foggiest idea what to do, Will sighed in frustration. “The shackles, sir.”

“Oh, right. I’ll be back in a tick.”

Will’s head hinged back in frustration until Wesley gave a little wriggle and he tightened his hold.

“What do you want? I’ll give you anything,” Wesley pleaded.

“You do not possess a single thing that I want,” Celine answered, exhaustion and hatred warring for prominence.

“Charlotte, dearest, please. You don’t want the father of your son hanged,” he called to me.

I slipped smoothly under Lee’s arm. He turned to follow my movements. Silently, I passed Leo over to my husband before approaching Wesley.

Now that Leo was safe, the pains of birth and travel, dimmed by fear and anger, were welling inside. It took several painful steps to reach my former lover.

Once the handsomest man I’d ever seen, his hair was almost black with grime and sweat, and he smelled of filth and copper. His clothes were torn, dirty, and blood-soaked. He was… disgusting.

“Charlotte, tell them. Tell them I need a doctor,” he whined.

“You’re right?—”

“Thank God. Tell them to let me?—”

Unwilling to listen to more of his pathetic pleadings, I interrupted him. “You’re right. I do not wish to see the father of my son hanged. So it is a very, very good thing that he is not bound for the noose. In fact, he’s right over there—with his son.”

Wesley turned, his eyes bleary with desperation and pain, toward where my husband held Leo, safe in his arms.

“You’re more foolish than I thought if you think anyone is going to accept that hideous beast. Or that the ton will see the child as anything other than a bastard. The ton never forgets. Everyone knows what you are.”

“And what is that, Wesley?” I was goading him now, pressing him into saying something that would give me leave to hit him, just once.

And he obliged. “A filthy whore.”

It wasn’t precisely ladylike what I did next, but it was entirely satisfying. With every ounce of strength I possessed, I thrust my knee into his groin. Will, seeming to anticipate my maneuver, pushed Wesley out, shoving him into the contact.

Wesley doubled over, held upright only by Will’s grip on his arms. His whimpering cries hit an unfathomable pitch, and he retched pathetically. Good, he deserved to experience that as well, Lord knew I had.

“Well done,” Celine said from behind me.

I spun toward her. “You as well,” I said, gesturing toward the knife.

She nodded, wearily. “Not as cathartic as I thought it would be. But you three should go. We can manage from here. It’s not safe for you or the babe here.”

She certainly wasn’t wrong about that.

“Charlotte? Let’s go home,” Lee added from my side. We made for the door and stepped aside to allow the constable to enter with two sets of shackles.

At last, Lee guided me out into the blinding sun with one hand on my back and the other cradling our son.