Chapter 25
“Take me to the Green Dragon Tavern,” Emmeline commanded Ezra Hardy the moment that Colin and Michael had left the Frampton family townhouse with the money and paintings.
“My lady, I must protest once more about this plan of yours to confront this criminal, Mr. G, alone. I know that we suspect that he is your husband, the marquess, but we do not know for certain what he is capable of and what he will do,” Mr. Hardy reminded her.
“If he meant to hurt me, he could have done that many times during our marriage. He did not. I do not believe that he will harm me now. I do not know why he has taken Rebecca, or why he wants my father’s paintings when he could have had anything that he desired of them during our married lives together.
The money that I inherited from my father could have been his as well if he had been honest with me and told me of his financial difficulties. None of this makes any sense to me, and the only way that I can get the clarity that I need is to go and speak with him myself.”
“My lady, why would a man fake his own death, then return to London to live the life of a criminal? If he wanted to only speak with you, he could have done that at any time while he was believed to be alive, or any time after his supposed death,” Mr. Hardy attempted to make her see reason.
“There is something wrong with this situation beyond what we can see. I urge you to proceed with the utmost caution.”
Emmeline, in an uncharacteristic moment of physical affection, took the butler’s hand. “I have to do this, and you are the only man who can help me. Will you help me?”
Moved by her entreaty, Mr. Hardy reluctantly nodded his head in agreement. “I will take you, but I will not be leaving your side.”
Emmeline nodded in understanding. “Agreed. Thank you, Mr. Hardy.”
The butler eyed her attire and frowned in concern. “You should change into something that speaks less of your title and standing in society, my lady. Where we are going, those clothes will place you in far greater danger of being robbed along the way.”
Emmeline’s eyes widened, and her mouth went dry. “I do not have anything lesser,” she admitted. She had intentionally worn her worst dress so that she would not stand out, and yet, here her faithful servant stood informing her that it was still not enough.
“I will speak with one of the maids whom I trust to keep a secret. I am certain that she will be willing to lend you some appropriate clothing.” Mr. Hardy left the room to do as promised.
Emmeline stood in the library, staring out of the window, seeing but not really seeing the city beyond.
Her thoughts and fears lay entirely with Rebecca and what might happen to her if Emmeline did not make it to the Green Dragon tavern in time.
Emmeline had sent a secret letter in response to Norman’s ransom demands, agreeing to meet with him.
She had asked that they meet within the tavern as a public establishment, believing that it had made the meeting safer, but now she was not so certain. If Michael and Colin made it to the original rendezvous point before she had met with her husband, she feared the consequences for them all.
Mr. Hardy returned with a maid’s clothing draped over his arm. “I believe that these will fit, my lady.” He handed her the plain dress, shoes, and stockings.
Emmeline took them gratefully. “Please convey my gratitude to the original owner.”
“She is glad to serve, my lady,” Mr. Hardy reassured her. “I will give you a moment to change your clothes, and then we will go.”
Emmeline nodded her head. “Thank you,” she replied as he bowed, then left the room to await her in the hall beyond.
Emmeline quickly changed out of her clothes and slipped into the maid’s disguise. Once dressed, she stood in front of the mirror and made her hair a bit more like the maid’s that owned the clothing.
Eyeing her reflection with critical appraisal, she turned this way and that to make certain that she was convincing as a servant, then walked over to the door. Opening it, she nodded to Mr. Hardy, who was standing guard on the other side. “I am ready,” she informed him.
Mr. Hardy looked her over from head to toe, gave her a nod of approval, then led her down into the servants’ portion of the house and out the back door.
“Forgive me, my lady, but from the moment that we leave this house, you are no longer the Marchioness of Worthington, but just another young maid going about her duties. The world does not treat maids as they do a lady of nobility. You must remember that as you interact with others in these clothes. You are not protected by your rank and privilege now. Do you understand what I am saying to you?”
He held her eyes in earnest.
“I do, Mr. Hardy. I assure you that I will behave accordingly,” she promised. “I trust your leadership in this endeavor.”
Mr. Hardy nodded. “Forgive me, my lady, but I cannot call you by your title’s honorific while we are in the tavern.”
Emmeline nodded in understanding. “You may address me by my given name while we are in disguise.”
“Very well, Emmeline. You should call me Ezra,” he advised.
To do such a thing seemed so unnatural to Emmeline, but she agreed for the sake of their protection. “I am ready.” Taking a deep breath, she stepped from the protective boundaries of her family property and followed Ezra down the street toward the worst parts of London’s underbelly.
The deeper that they went into the bowels of the poverty-riddled streets, the closer to Ezra that Emmeline walked, until she was practically holding his arm for comfort. She had not anticipated how bad some of London’s inhabitants lived just to survive.
As they walked, she witnessed everything from chamber pots being emptied into the streets at her feet to prostitution being practiced in the side alleyways. When at long last they reached the Green Dragon Tavern, Ezra paused at the door.
“Are you certain? Once we are inside, there is no turning back.”
“I am certain.” Emmeline nodded, taking a bold step forward.
Crossing over the threshold into the tavern, she paused for a brief moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the dark, smoky interior.
Once her eyes had adjusted, she walked over to the woman behind the bar.
“I have an appointment with Mr. G. Could you please inform him of my arrival?”
“And who might you be?” the woman asked, her eyes assessing Emmeline’s disguise. Apparently, she disapproved, as she gave Emmeline a sneer of derision.
“My name is Emmeline, and he is expecting me,” Emmeline answered, attempting to keep her calm. She was not accustomed to being addressed with such disrespect.
The woman jutted her chin toward a door to the side of the bar. “He is in the alley out back.”
Emmeline nodded in thanks, then turned toward the door. She reached for the latch and hesitated for a brief moment, her hand hovering in midair.
“We need not continue,” Ezra reminded her, giving her one last opportunity to change her mind.
Emmeline shook her head. “I must.” She reached out and opened the door, stepping over the threshold, out into the alley beyond.
No sooner had her feet hit the cobblestones than she stopped, deep shock reverberating through her body.
No number of suspicions could have prepared her for the sight of her supposedly deceased husband standing before her.
“Norman,” she breathed, all of the air rushing out of her lungs.
“Emmeline,” Norman replied with a nod, his standard cold gaze taking in her measure with efficient detachment.
“How? Why?” Her dazed mind seemed to only be able to speak in staggered monosyllabic words. “The fire…”
Norman chuckled. “That was a fortuitous turn of events. The fire allowed me to leave behind a life that I detested for one that suits me much better. The running of an estate was a tiresome and tedious affair, with social responsibilities that I could have well done without. The fire allowed me to leave behind the voracious creditors and step into my true vocation.”
“Rebecca?” Emmeline’s eyes were filled with tears as she uttered her sister’s name in more of a prayer-like plea than an actual question.
Norman shrugged. “I had never intended to speak to you again. We both know what our marriage was: a business arrangement with your father and my family’s need for an heir.
While we did not produce an heir, we both benefited from the business aspect of the arrangement. There was no love lost between us.”
Emmeline could not argue with anything that he said, but it did not explain why he had taken her sister.
“Why did you take Rebecca? You could have asked me for anything that I possessed, and I would have given it to you when we were wed to one another. Why go through all of this simply to ask for something you already had access to?”
“I did not realize that you still had value to me,” Norman admitted bluntly.
“You had not produced an heir, my brother had come of an age to do so, and he was better suited to the title of marquess than I. I thought that I would simply disappear, never to have the truth revealed, but then I discovered that the very thing that I had been seeking for years had been in your father’s possession all along.
I had already faked my death, and to emerge now as the Marquess of Worthington would have resulted in legal attention being drawn to my activities.
I knew that you were too honorable to keep my secret without leverage, so I took your sister to ensure that you would do as I commanded and honor my anonymity while giving me everything that I asked for. ”
“My father had acquired everything that you have asked for before our marriage ended with your purported death. What among his possessions was so important that you would cause my family such suffering?” A sob caught at the back of Emmeline’s throat, but she held her emotions in check with a sheer, desperate iron will.