Chapter 26 #2
“We’ll catch him,” Teague vowed, his eyes glittering with dark promise. “You go on home now. Leach needs a physician. I can’t thank you all enough. I’ll come by and check on you later as well.”
“Come to Ravenhurst House,” Tilda said. “I’ll be there for some time, I’m sure.” She glanced at Hadrian as if to confirm that was acceptable.
It was beyond acceptable. Having Tilda at Ravenhurst House fulfilled his wildest dreams, even if it was only for a while.
Teague nodded. “Do you need help moving Leach to your coach?”
“We can manage,” Hadrian replied. “You’ve much to do here.”
As Teague left to deal with the chaos of the growing crowd, Hadrian helped Leach up. The coachman was able to lean on him heavily and limp to the coach.
“Sorry it’s a bit farther away now,” Hadrian said.
“I’m just glad the horses are all right.” Leach sent him a grateful glance. “I was worried until I saw they were safe.”
“I’ll give the boy a shilling.” Hadrian helped Leach into the coach first, and Tilda stepped in after him.
Hadrian thanked the boy, gave him the shilling, and then climbed onto the seat. As his body settled for the first time since the blast, he became aware of aches and pains. Yes, he’d send for Dr. Giles as soon as they arrived at Ravenhurst House. He was extremely grateful they were all whole.
Hadrian set Leach up in a guest room on the second floor despite the coachman’s protestations. The servants’ quarters wouldn’t do for his recovery, and he certainly couldn’t return to his lodgings in the mews.
Fortunately, Dr. Giles had arrived quickly and proclaimed the bullet had gone through a fleshy part of Leach’s leg above the knee. He required stitches and would need to stay off his feet for several days. Dr. Giles would be back the following day to monitor for infection.
Whilst it was not a horrible wound, it was more serious than what Tilda had recently sustained.
Or what Hadrian had recovered from when he’d been shot during another of their investigations.
The bullet had grazed his biceps. He’d also been hit by pottery shrapnel as Tilda had, but only the top of his ear had been nicked and no hint of injury remained. They’d been very lucky.
Whilst Dr. Giles had tended to Leach, Hadrian cleaned up at his valet’s insistence.
Tilda had also relented to the housekeeper and allowed one of the maids to help her tidy.
Still, her garments were covered in soot.
At least her beautiful reddish-blonde hair was still the appropriate color since she’d been wearing her hat.
Poor Miss Redmayne had not been so lucky, and her locks looked nearly black.
She had, however, been wearing a day dress and boots at least, which was better than if she’d still been in her nightgown.
Hadrian realized her gown did not fit as well as the one Miss Chadwick had been wearing when she’d been found.
This made sense, for Mobray had supplied a garment for the woman he loved and knew well.
Whereas, Miss Redmayne had been provided a gown that did not match her frame, for she was unknown to Mobray—and to Larkin.
It was mid-afternoon before they met in the drawing room. The housekeeper brought sandwiches and tea, and they ate ravenously for a few minutes.
“I’m glad Mrs. Kenworth put a cloth over the chair,” Tilda said. “I wouldn’t want to soil your furniture. I really need to go home and change my clothing. And have a bath.” She smiled almost dreamily.
Hadrian chuckled. “A bath would not come amiss.”
“At least you have fresh garments.” She peered at him over the rim of her teacup before taking a sip.
“Sharp insisted. He said he was going to finish the job the blast started and just burn what was left of the clothing.”
“There was a sizeable hole in the back of your coat,” Tilda said with a grimace. “You weren’t burned?”
He shook his head. “I felt a stinging sensation and was able to remove the debris. Dr. Giles gave me a thorough review, and I’m fine aside from a host of aches and pains. What did he say of your shoulder?”
“It’s unharmed. I also have a few pains, but I would guess yours are worse, given your proximity to the blast.” She met his gaze with relief and something warmer that filled Hadrian with joy. “I’m so happy you were not in the building.”
Collier appeared in the doorway with Teague. “Detective Inspector Teague is here.”
“Thank you, Collier.” Hadrian had asked the butler to show Teague up as soon as he arrived. “Would you care for something to eat?” he asked Teague as he walked to the table.
“That would be most welcome.” Teague removed his hat, and Collier rushed to take it from him.
“I’ll have Sharp tidy this up,” Collier said. “It will be waiting for you downstairs.”
“Thank you.” Teague seemed surprised. “That is most kind of you.” The butler departed, and Teague gave Hadrian a sardonic look. “I’m sure you don’t want my filthy hat on any of your furniture, and I don’t blame you.”
“In fact, I’m sitting on a cloth,” Tilda said with a smile. She poured tea for Teague. “Did you already visit the Redmaynes?”
She and Hadrian hoped he had, so Teague could tell them what he’d learned from Miss Redmayne.
“I have. Poor Redmayne is in rough shape.” Teague sipped his tea. “He’s quite weak after being shot and suffering from the proximity of the blast.” He eyed Hadrian. “I’m surprised you aren’t worse off.”
“Redmayne was already wounded, and Miss Redmayne was in a weakened state,” Hadrian said. “I’m not without aches and pains, however. Something hit me in the back, and it’s quite sore.”
“It also ruined his coat,” Tilda said softly but with humor.
“And how are you, Miss Wren?” Teague asked. “Your shoulder was wounded not that long ago.”
“I’m quite well, thank you, and Leach will recover nicely.”
“Glad to hear it.” Teague ate a sandwich, and Hadrian exchanged a look with Tilda.
They silently agreed they would let him eat.
When he was finished, he took another drink of tea.
“Unfortunately, Miss Redmayne did not see her captor until she arrived in the old construction store. She’d been blindfolded since the last time she awoke, which she estimated to be this morning.
“She suspected there might be two kidnappers, but not because she heard them speak. In describing her captivity, she recalled the sound of normal footfalls until last night when the person she heard outside the cupboard seemed to have had a limp.”
“That would indicate Larkin,” Tilda said. “How extraordinary that she noticed the distinction. What did she say about her abduction?”
“That it was Spring-heeled Jack,” Teague replied. “He was masked and breathed blue flame at her. She described having a cloth soaked in chloroform pressed to her mouth as Lady Priscilla did.”
“Wasn’t she taken in a nightgown?” Hadrian asked. “I wondered how she came to be garbed in different clothing.”
“She said when she awakened in the cupboard, there were undergarments and a gown for her to wear. She also commented that they smelled as though someone else had worn them. I took them as evidence, and I can also report that the neckline of the gown had greasepaint on the edge.” Teague picked up a butter biscuit.
“I believe the items came from a theatre—probably the Albion.”
“I wonder why she was given a gown and Lady Priscilla was not,” Tilda said. “I understand now why Miss Chadwick wasn’t in her nightgown—she was not a captive.”
“Perhaps Miss Redmayne was given something to wear since she was moved?” Hadrian suggested. “I fear we may never be able to answer all the questions we have.”
“I’ve been thinking about the device Mobray used last night,” Tilda said. “It was larger than the others and produced a bigger, more impressive flame which ended up leading to Mobray’s death. It’s possible Larkin made a device that would produce a flame that was too large—uncontrollable even.”
Teague swallowed the biscuit he’d popped into his mouth and leaned toward her slightly. “You think Larkin schemed for Mobray to burn to death?”
Tilda looked from Teague to Hadrian and back again.
“I’m trying to work out how Mobray fit into Larkin’s plan for revenge.
The two men had very different objectives for kidnapping these women.
Mobray took Delia Chadwick so they could elope.
Dowd indicated that Mobray hadn’t wanted to kidnap Lady Priscilla, so it seems that was Larkin’s idea.
But what was his motive? We know he wanted to kidnap Miss Redmayne to exact revenge against her father. ”
Teague’s brow creased as he appeared to grow pensive. “Is it possible Mobray was Larkins’s tool this entire time?”
“I think so,” Hadrian said. “Mobray had the interest in Spring-heeled Jack. Perhaps Larkin suggested they revive the legend so Mobray could ‘rescue’ Miss Chadwick.”
“That’s diabolical.” Tilda sent Hadrian a shrewd look of appreciation. “It’s also an excellent theory. Hopefully, we’ll catch Larkin and learn the truth.” She sipped her tea.
“It’s a very good thing you decided to call on Redmayne this morning,” Teague said.
“We were fortunate enough to arrive just before his secretary, or whoever that was, handed Mr. Redmayne a case.” She glanced at Hadrian. “Redmayne was horribly agitated and kept insisting he needed to leave immediately. We deduced the case held the ransom and asked him if that was true.”
Teague’s brows arched. “He didn’t prevaricate?”
“We didn’t give him a chance to,” Hadrian replied. “We explained his daughter’s life was in danger and that if he was going to deliver the ransom personally, his would be too. That’s when he showed us the note he’d received.”
“His butler gave it to me when I was there earlier,” Teague said. “Larkin sounded as though he truly hated him.”
“Did Redmayne fully explain why?” Tilda asked.
“He tried, but the laudanum took effect and he lost consciousness. I was hoping you could fill in what I don’t know.”