Chapter Five #3
The child stepped in front of Marcus, grubby hands braced on his skinny hips. “Where are you takin’ her?” he asked belligerently. “I look after over her, I do. She’s a nice lady.”
“I know. And I’m taking her to safety, to my home. You know where that is,” Marcus said impatiently. He was touched by the child’s concern, but enough was enough. “Now, dammit, let me pass.”
Tightening his grip on Tessa, he strode from the house.
She was barely conscious and, leaning her head against his shoulder, muttered something he couldn’t make out.
He levered her onto the carriage seat, holding her steady all the time and then climbed in after her and took her in his arms again. He didn’t want to let her go.
“Home,” he told the coachman in a clipped voice.
Sims and Jackson stood at the door of the carriage.
“I can’t thank you enough,” he told them.
“Sims, you watch Blaxland. Jackson, be so good as to summon Doctor Price to attend me at my home as soon as possible. I will see to your payment after I have seen to the lady.”
“Glad to help,” Jackson said. “I’ll call on you after the doctor has been, m’lord, if that would be convenient.”
“It would,” Marcus said as the coach moved off.
#
THE PHYSICIAN ARRIVED at Alverleigh House within the hour. With a maidservant sitting in, he examined Tessa carefully. She was by then completely comatose—but still breathing, thank goodness.
After twenty minutes, the doctor emerged from her bedchamber. Marcus, who had taken the time to shave and dress hastily, was pacing back and forth in the hall. “Well?” he said.
“The lady appears to have been drugged.”
“I know that, but—”
“She is, in my opinion, in no immediate danger, my lord,” he said soothingly. “Her vital signs are good, and she seems a healthy young woman. I believe she will sleep off the effects and wake with, I hope, no further repercussions.”
In my opinion. I believe. I hope. Damned doctors, hedging their bets. But there was no point in arguing with the man. “How long will it take her to wake up?”
Dr. Price shook his head. “As I have no knowledge of the drug she took, or how much was ingested, I cannot say.”
“But—“
“Leave a maidservant in the room with her. There is little anyone can do but it will assuage some of your anxieties. As well, when the lady awakens, she will be no doubt be confused and possibly anxious. A female face might help reassure her.”
Marcus nodded brusquely and showed the doctor to the door. “Thank you, doctor. Send me your bill.” As the doctor’s carriage moved off, Marcus noticed Jackson waiting across the road. He beckoned him inside.
“Thanks again for alerting me to the situation, and for summoning the doctor. I don’t imagine he liked being called out so early. The lady is sleeping off the effects of whatever filthy drug that swine gave her. You will be well rewarded, but first I have another task for you.”
“At your service, m’lord.”
“I’ll be calling on Lord Blaxland shortly. I hope Sims has kept him securely confined. I have a job for him, as well. Your errand is a trip to the docks.” He explained his plan to Jackson. The time he’d spent pacing outside Tessa’s door had not been in vain.
As he showed Jackson out, his aunt made a stately descent down the stairs. “What is all the commotion, Marcus? People coming and going at such an uncivilized hour! And who was that man who just left? He looked like a positive ruffian.”
He grinned. “Good morning, Aunt Maude. He probably is a ruffian, but a good one, I’m sure.”
She snorted.
He continued. “As for the people coming and going, the guest I told you about has arrived and is sleeping in the best spare bedchamber, with a maid watching over her.”
She raised her lorgnette and eyed him indignantly. “Your guest arrived at this ungodly time of the morning? And went straight to bed? Was she raised in a barnyard that she has so little understanding of basic good manners?”
“As you very well know, she was raised at Ferndale, the property next to Alverleigh, remember? I don’t recall if there was a barnyard there, but if there was, I‘m sure she would have played there as a child. Nash and I used to play in our barn, especially in wet weather.”
She stamped her foot. “Do not try that fiddle-faddle on me, boy! I am not in the mood for it, especially at this time of day—I haven’t yet broken my fast. You know perfectly well what I mean.”
“Yes, Aunt Maude. Come into the breakfast parlor and while you drink your chocolate and eat your pastries, I’ll explain.”
#
AFTER HE’D brEAKFASTED with his aunt and attempted to smooth her ruffled feathers—without conspicuous success, he had to admit—he headed out. It was not quite noon. “Still there?” he asked Sims when he arrived.
“Aye, m’lord. He came to and cleaned ‘imself up a bit, then I put ‘im upstairs in ‘is bed. I reckon ‘e’ll be sound asleep by now. Or sozzled.” He grinned.
“‘E weren’t an ‘appy chappy when I locked ‘im in, I can tell you. The language ‘e used! I din’t know lords could swear like that. Right shocked, I was.” Chuckling, he handed Marcus the key to the bedroom door.
“Good man.” Marcus slipped him a sovereign. “I have more work yet for you and Jackson. I’ll pay both of you when this affair is over.”
He ran upstairs, found the only locked door and unlocked it.
Then he knocked. And knocked again, more loudly.
After a few moments Blaxland fumbled at the door, swearing angrily.
It cracked open a sliver, and a bloodshot eye peered warily out, then it opened fully and Edgar Blaxland stood there, bruised, disheveled and fuming.
“Renfrew, you bastard! What the devil do you want?”
He was clad in a lurid dressing gown tossed carelessly over the crumpled clothes he’d worn at the failed wedding.
He stank of drink.
He wore a plaster crookedly stretched across his nose—Marcus hoped it betokened a broken nose—one of his eyes was swollen and was darkening nicely, and his face bore several cuts and luridly promising bruises.
He stood, glaring at Marcus then as Marcus moved forward, he scuttled back hurriedly saying, “You’ve got a damned nerve, calling here after what you did. Where’s my blasted sister?”
“Safe.” Marcus pushed past him and entered the house. “I want a word with you, Blaxland.”
“Well, I don’t want a word with you—unless it’s to restore my sister to me.”
“You’ll wait in vain then.”
“Dammit, she’s my sister. You have no right to kidnap here, and so I’ll tell the magistrate when I report you for it.”
“Kidnapping is it? I thought it was more like a rescue. But go ahead, report me. I’m sure the authorities will be interested to hear how you were forcing your sister to get married by drugging her. And not for the first time,” he added silkily.
“Drugging! what the devil do you mean by that?” Blaxland blustered. “No such thing. The silly chit took a composer, that’s all.”
“Both times? She told me she had no memory of her last wedding.”
Blaxland’s expression was shifty. “Lies, all lies. She, she drinks, and like all females she has a weak head, that’s all.”
“The doctor who examined her this morning was of the opinion she’d been given a dose of some drug. I’m sure he will be glad to confirm it to any court. In fact, I might report the incident myself.”
Blaxland’s face paled. “Dammit, you can’t do that. I’m the head of her family. You have no right to—”
“To rescue her from an unwelcome marriage? As the head of her family, you are a disgrace. Now sit down, you fool—I’m not going to hit you again, much as I’d like to. I have a proposition for you.”
Warily, Blaxland sat on the edge of the bed, clearly poised to leap from it if Marcus attacked. “What sort of proposition?”
“A monetary one.”
His eyes narrowed. “Go on.”
“I understand you are deep in debt.”
He made a dismissive gesture. “Temporary shortage, nothing to be concerned about.”
“Really? So you’re not worried about the interest the Greeling brothers have taken in you?”
Blaxland stiffened. “The Greeling brothers? How the devil— What have you heard?” He glanced worriedly at the doorway, as if Marcus had brought the Greelings with him and they were lurking outside.
“I understand they are in pursuit of you—or rather, the rather large sum of money you owe them.” He waited a moment, then added, “Of course, you could always explain about the temporary shortage, though they do have something of a reputation for impatience, I believe. But I’m sure if you explain, they’ll understand. ”
Blaxland snorted. “They’ll break both my legs first. And that’ll just be the start.”
“Tsk tsk, that sounds a trifle harsh,” Marcus said pleasantly.
Blaxland glared at him. “What’s it to you, Renfrew? And why the devil have you come back here? To taunt me?”
“No, to offer you a proposition.”
Blaxland leaned forward. “Spit it out then.”
“I will pay you five hundred pounds.”
Blaxland’s eyes narrowed. “In exchange for what? I’ve nothing to sell—” He broke off with a knowing smile. “Oh, I see. Sniffing around my sister, aren’t you? Very well, you can have her, but I’ll want more than a monkey. I owe more than five times that to the Greelings alone. A lot more.”
Marcus frowned. “Are you offering to arrange a marriage between us?” he said silkily.
Blaxland said indifferently, “Marriage or not—it’s up to you. She’s used goods, no virgin after all.”
Marcus clenched his fists—the man was despicable—but he managed to say in a cool voice, “So, you would sell me your sister for three thousand pounds?”
“Sir Henry would have paid more, but the bastard will be running shy after that wedding debacle—which is all your fault, I’ll remind you.” He added bitterly, “And as you pointed out, the Greelings are not known for their patience.”
“No, I believe not. At any rate, I have no intention of buying your sister or any other woman—”
“Then what the devil are you playing at?”
“—and I certainly won’t pay you three thousand pounds. The offer was for five hundred, but there are conditions.”
“What conditions?”
“I will purchase you a one-way ticket to America, which will take you out of reach of the Greelings.”
Blaxland thought for a moment, then his face took on a cunning expression. “I see, let the hue and cry die down. Very well, I’ll accept your proposition. When can I have the money? I can arrange my own passage.”
“I haven’t finished yet,” Marcus said coldly.
Blaxland gestured impatiently. “Get to the point then.”
“I will purchase your passage to America and give five hundred pounds to the ship’s captain, to keep safe during the voyage. He’ll be instructed not to give you a penny until you’ve landed in Boston.”
“Damn it all, I’m not a child—”
“No, you’re a gambler, a liar and a cheat. And a total disgrace.”