Chapter 7
Seven
J ames felt the tension coiling in his gut as the carriage rattled down the cobblestone streets of London. Beside him, Selina sat ramrod straight, her fingers twisting the fabric of her skirts. The silence between them crackled with unspoken words and mounting apprehension.
As they neared Grosvenor Square, James caught Selina's eye. "Are you certain you wish to proceed with this?" he murmured, his voice low and tinged with concern.
Her chin lifted, a spark of determination igniting in her gaze. "I have come too far to turn back now."
He nodded, admiring her resolve even as worry gnawed at him. Hawthorne was a formidable opponent, one who may have already proven his willingness to resort to murder. The weight of Selina's safety pressed heavily upon James's shoulders.
The carriage wheels groaned as they rounded a corner, before lurching to a stop. James's gaze darted to the windows. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as he took in their location.
"Something is... off," he muttered, more to himself than to Selina.
Selina's hand went to her chest as she peered out the window. "Dear Lord.”
"Stay," James replied, his hand instinctively moved to the pistol concealed beneath his coat. He turned to Selina, his gaze intense.
He handed her his second pistol. "Do not open the door for anyone. If someone should barge in, shoot them. Do you understand?"
Her lips parted in protest, but James cut her off with a gentle yet firm touch on her arm. "Please, Selina. I could not bear it if harm befell you."
A flicker of surprise crossed her features, followed by a softening of her expression. "Very well. But do be careful. I have grown rather accustomed to your company and should hate to lose it."
A wry smile tugged at James's lips. "Do not worry yourself over me, pet. "
With a final nod, James stepped out of the carriage, his senses on high alert. The air was thick with foreboding, and as he approached the front of the carriage, he could see the man who’d stopped them.
“What is the issue,” he called.
A blur of motion caught his eye. Two burly men, faces obscured by dark kerchiefs, burst from the shadows flanking the road.
"Selina, stay inside!" James shouted, his hand raising his remaining pistol.
But before he could aim, the first ruffian was upon him, meaty fists swinging. James ducked, the blow whistling past his ear. He pivoted, using his attacker's momentum against him, and drove an elbow into the man's solar plexus.
The second assailant lunged for the carriage door. Selina's scream pierced the air, mingling with the sound of splintering wood as the brute wrenched it open.
James's heart thundered. He had to reach her. Had to protect her. But the first ruffian, though winded, grappled him from behind, pinning his arms.
"Unhand me, you cur!" James snarled, struggling against the iron grip. His mind raced, calculating angles, leverage points, anything to break free.
Inside the carriage, Selina's voice rang out, sharp with defiance. "I will shoot!"
A resounding thwack echoed, followed by a pained grunt from the second attacker. James allowed himself a fleeting smile. His Selina was no wilting flower.
His Selina? The unbidden thought startled him, but there was no time to dwell on it. With a grunt of effort, James stomped hard on his captor's instep, then snapped his head back. A satisfying crunch signaled contact with the ruffian's nose.
The grip loosened, and James wrenched free. He spun, fists raised, ready to continue the fight. But the attacker was already staggering back, blood streaming from his face.
"James!" Selina's cry galvanized him.
He whirled to see her fending off the second assailant with her parasol, landing blows with surprising force. But the man was regaining his footing, reaching for her with malicious intent.
James moved without thinking. In three long strides, he closed the distance and launched himself at the attacker. They went down in a tangle of limbs, rolling across the gravel drive .
Fists flew, each man seeking any advantage. James tasted blood, felt the sting of split knuckles. But beneath the pain and chaos, a cold fury burned. How dare they threaten Selina? He would make them regret ever laying eyes on her.
With a savage growl, James landed a crushing blow to his opponent's jaw. The man's eyes rolled back, and he went limp.
Panting, James pushed himself to his feet, scanning for the first attacker. But the man vanished into the night.
"Selina," James gasped, turning back to the carriage. "Are you hurt?"
She stood in the doorway, parasol still clutched like a weapon, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and exhilaration. "I'm... I am quite alright. Thank you."
James reached for her hand, helping her down from the carriage. His touch lingered longer than necessary, but propriety be damned. They had just survived an attack.
“You are bleeding,” she said, reaching for a handkerchief and pressing it to his brow.
James shrugged it off. "It is nothing. A mere trifle, I assure you. I have survived far worse. You fought admirably," he said, a note of pride in his voice. "But why didn’t you shoot? ”
“I have never fired a pistol, but I know how to swing a parasol.”
James could not help the laugh that escaped him. “I daresay you are full of surprises, Lady Hollyfield."
A faint blush colored her cheeks. "As are you, Lord Blackwood. I never knew you were so... capable in a fight."
James's lips quirked in a roguish grin. "There is a great deal you do not know about me. Perhaps, in time, that might change."
“Perhaps,” she said, her gaze moving to the man on the ground.
James turned his attention to the unconscious ruffian. "Now, let us see what our friend here has to say for himself."
He knelt beside the man, roughly shaking him awake. The ruffian's eyes fluttered open, unfocused and dazed.
"Who sent you?" James demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
The man's gaze darted nervously between James and Selina. "I... I don't know what you're talking about."
James's grip on the man's collar tightened. "Do not play coy. You and your associate did not happen upon us by chance. Certainly not in this area of London. Who hired you?"
Selina stepped closer, her voice trembling slightly. "Was it Lord Hawthorne?"
The ruffian's eyes widened at the name, and James knew they had struck gold. He leaned in, his face inches from their attackers.
"Lord Hawthorne, is it?" James pressed. "What did he want? To scare us? Or something more... permanent?"
The man squirmed, sweat beading on his brow. "I can't... he'll kill me if I talk."
James's laugh was cold and mirthless. "And what do you think I will do if you don't?"
Selina gasped behind him, and James felt a twinge of regret. He did not want her to see this side of him, but needs must.
The ruffian's resolve crumbled. "Alright, alright! It was Hawthorne. He wanted us to disappear you, scare the lady. Said it'd teach her to mind her own business."
“Disappear me?” James's mind raced. This was the proof they needed, but it still didn't explain everything. "And what of Lord Hollyfield's death? Was Hawthorne involved in that as well? "
The man's eyes darted away. "I... I don't know nothing about that. We was just hired for this job, I swear!"
James stood, his thoughts whirling. He turned to Selina, whose face was a mask of shock and anger.
"It seems," James said, "that we have stumbled upon something far more sinister than we imagined."
James needed more information, and he needed it quickly if he was going to see Hawthorne imprisoned before he could harm Selina. Turning back to the ruffian, he fixed him with a steely gaze.
"You may not know about Lord Hollyfield directly, but surely, Hawthorne said something. Think, man. Your life depends on it."
The ruffian swallowed hard, his eyes darting between James and Selina. "He... he did mention something about a race. Said it was a shame about the accident, but some men just don't know their limits. And now the pair of you are catching on and he can’t have that."
Selina's sharp intake of breath cut through the tense atmosphere. James glanced at her, noting the pallor of her face and the trembling of her hands. He longed to comfort her, but knew he had to press on.
"A race, you say? That's oddly specific for a man who claims to know nothing," James prodded, his voice dangerously low.
The ruffian's resolve crumbled further. "Alright! He... he laughed about it. Said he'd arranged the perfect accident, and no one would ever suspect. Saved himself a great deal of money for the effort."
James felt a cold fury building within him. He turned to the coachman, who now stood beside the carriage, a large bump on his forehead where the attackers must have hit him with something. "You, there. Get me some rope, then go fetch a Bow Street Runner. We will need official testimony."
As the coachman scrambled to do his bidding, James returned his attention to the ruffian. "Now, my good man, you are going to cooperate and tell Bow Street everything. And I do mean everything."
The ruffian nodded as the coachman handed James a length of rope.
James tied the attacker’s hands together before forcing him to sit beside the carriage. As they awaited Bow Street, James paced back and forth, his eyes never leaving the bound ruffian. Selina sat rigidly on the carriage seat, her fingers twisting the fabric of her gown as she peered out at them.
"How long do you think it will take the Runner to arrive?" She asked, her voice barely audible .
James glanced at her, his expression softening momentarily. "Not long, I hope. But rest assured, this vagrant is not going anywhere."
The ruffian shifted uncomfortably, the ropes creaking against the wood of the carriage wheel. "You can't keep me here forever," he growled, a hint of desperation in his voice.
"Oh, I assure you, we can," James replied coolly. "And the longer we wait, the more inclined I am to extract every sordid detail of your association with Lord Hawthorne." James patted the pistol in his pocket for good measure.
Selina's eyes darted between James and the ruffian. "What if... what if the other one’s return?"
James wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his pistol. "I am ready," he said firmly, his gaze never leaving their captive.
The minutes ticked by agonizingly slow. Every rustle of leaves, every distant sound of hoofbeats made them tense, wondering if it heralded the runner or some nefarious ally of Lord Hawthorne.
Finally, the sound of purposeful footsteps approached. James positioned himself protectively in front of the carriage door to guard Selina as the footsteps neared .
“Mr. Sullivan,” Selina called out as the runner approached. “How fortuitous that it would be you.”
He bowed, his weathered face etched with determination. "Lord Blackwood, Lady Hollyfield, I came as quickly as I could. What's this about a confession?"
James felt a wave of relief wash over him. "We have a most interesting tale of murder and conspiracy, courtesy of this… man."
The Runner's eyes narrowed as he took in the scene. "Is that so? Well then, let us hear what he has to say."
James watched Selina as the ruffian confessed his actions as well as told Mr. Sullivan the sorted details of Hawthorne’s involvement in Lord Hollyfield’s death.
“When the ruffian stopped talking, Mr. Sullivan turned his attention to James. “I’ll be,” Sulivan said. “The evidence in my investigation was pointing else ware. I must say, I am glad we have found our villan.” Sullivan nodded, offering a slight smile. “I will take this ruffian to lockup and ensure he goes before the magistrate at first light, my lord.” He looked at Selina. “It seems we have solved your husband’s murder. I do hope you find some peace now, my lady. ”
“Thank you,” Selina said, offering a nod. “My peace will come once Lord Hawthorne is made to pay for his crime.”
“I assure you he will pay dearly, my lady. I will see to it personally.” He tugged on his prisoner, causing him to sway. “But first I must get this one in front of a magistrate and take an official statement. I shall see it done with haste, but until Hawthorne is charged, I must insist that you stay clear of him. Go home and wait for word from me.”
“Indeed,” James drawled. “We will expect to hear from you by tomorrow afternoon at the latest.”
“My lord. My Lady.” Mr. Sullivan gave a nod, then hauled the ruffian away.
James turned to the coachman, his gaze moving to the nasty bump on the man’s forehead. “Are you able to drive?”
“Yes, my lord,” the coachman said, his hand moving to the angry raised knot over his left eye. “I think they hit me with a rock. Knocked me unconscious for a moment, but I am right as rain now.”
“Very good. Return us to Lady Hollyfield’s residence,” James ordered, before climbing into the carriage and sitting beside Selina.
His hand rested gently on the small of her back as the carriage swayed into motion. Neither spoke as they traveled and when they arrived, James handed her down.
The street lamps cast long shadows across the cobblestones as he led her to the door, her hand tucked into the crook of his arm.
"I cannot thank you enough for your bravery tonight," she murmured, her voice trembling slightly as she tightened her grip on his arm.
James patted her hand. "Think nothing of it, my dear. Your safety is paramount."
Once inside, James led Selina to the drawing room. As she sank into a chaise longue, he poured her a small measure of brandy.
"Drink this," he urged, pressing the glass into her hands. "It will help calm your nerves."
Selina took a sip, grimacing at the burn, then turned her gaze on him. "What are we to do now? Lord Hawthorne will surely not stand idly by once he learns of tonight's events. Those other ruffians may well be giving him the details as we speak. And what if the miscreants tale is not enough to have Hawthorne held to account? He is a powerful lord. Are we truly to do nothing save for wait?"
James's eyes gleamed with a predatory light. "On the contrary, my dear. I believe we have him precisely where we want him. "
"How so?" Selina asked, her brow furrowing.
"Consider this," James began, pacing the room. "Lord Hawthorne's desperation has led him to make a grave error. By hiring those ruffians, he's exposed himself. By this time tomorrow, he will be behind bars."
Selina took a slow sip of the brandy before returning her gaze to him. "But what about tonight? What if he sends more assassins? He knows where we live. Surely a man of his standing?—”
"Has much further to fall," James finished. "Trust me. By tomorrow evening, Lord Hawthorne will no longer be a threat. As for tonight, I do not believe he will take the risk. Still, I will send men to guard your house."
Selina stared at him, a mixture of awe and trepidation in her eyes. "You are a dangerous man, Lord Blackwood."
"Only to those who deserve it," he replied softly, his gaze meeting hers.
A charged silence fell between them, the weight of the evening's revelations pressing down. Her hand trembled as she set down her glass.
"I owe you an apology," she said. "I misjudged you terribly."
James moved to sit beside her, taking her hand in his. "You had every reason to be suspicious, given the circumstances. But I hope now you see that we are on the same side."
Selina nodded, tears welling in her eyes. "To think that Lord Hawthorne... that he was responsible for Nile's death all along. I feel like such a ninny."
"You are anything but," James said firmly. "You are a woman of remarkable strength and intelligence. Hawthorne preyed on your grief, manipulating it to his advantage."
Selina looked up at him, a newfound resolve hardening her gaze. "I want justice for all those Hawthorne has wronged."
“It is the best revenge.” James squeezed her hand gently. "And justice you shall have. Together, we will ensure the scoundrel is brought to his knees."
Selina's eyes lingered on their joined hands, her heart quickening at the intimacy. She cleared her throat, then said, “Stay with me tonight.”
James's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening at her unexpected request. For a moment, he was at a loss for words, torn between propriety and the undeniable pull he felt toward her.
"Selina," he began, his voice low and husky, "I do not think that would be wise. Your reputation?—"
"Hang my reputation," she interrupted, her eyes flashing with a mixture of fear and determination. "After tonight's events, I... I cannot bear to be alone. Please, James."
Her words sent a shiver down his spine. He searched her face, seeing the vulnerability beneath her brave facade. With a sigh, he nodded.
"Very well, I shall stay."