Chapter 13 #2
The carriage pulled to a halt by the opening to the back alley that ran behind her aunt’s rented townhouse. Branford alighted and helped her down. They were in an unlit side street and all nearby residences were dark as well, and looked to be deep in slumber.
“You’re sure that you need no accompaniment?”
“As you’ve said, sir, the less risk of being observed, the better,” answered Alex. “The scullery door is always left open for Justin when he’s out for an evening with his friends. I can manage quite well.”
“Your shoulder …”
“Is not a matter for concern,” she interjected. “As you pointed out, it’s hardly more than a scratch, and as I said earlier, I’m experienced in medicinal matters.”
Alex took a deep breath. “Thank you for your … assistance tonight.” She was aware of how painfully stilted the words sounded, but she was too unsettled to know what else to say or do. “Good night—” She paused, and then added, “Milord.”
“Good night, Miss Chilton.”
Turning quickly, she passed through a small side gate and into the rear garden.
Branford watched her hurry through the shadowed greenery and disappear into the back of the house. Letting out a ragged sigh, he climbed back into the carriage.
What a devil of a night! Pressing back against the squabs, he closed his eyes, unsure of what to think …
Or feel.
It seemed that they had both dodged a lethal bullet—in more ways than one.
Alex’s wound was superficial, and she seemed perfectly capable of concealing it.
There was every reason to believe that nobody would ever learn of her reckless foray into the stews, or its scandalous aftermath—for there was no question that the knowledge of his taking her to his townhouse would have irreparably ruined her reputation.
Branford forced himself to exhale. Their secret was safe. No real harm had been done.
As for the kiss …
She had been frightened, and he had only meant to comfort her, nothing more.
Any yet, even as he thought it, Branford knew it was a damnable lie.
Though he had tried so hard to steel himself against having any emotional attachments, Alex’s raw courage and love for her family had found a way into his heart.
A self-mocking smile pulled at his lips—he hadn’t realized that he still had one!
The carriage jolted as the wheels clattered over a stretch of even cobblestones, mirroring his own rattled thoughts.
What to do about the conundrum?
Branford knew what honor demanded … A special license would solve a great many problems. Her family—he had in truth grown very fond of her aunt and brother—would have his protection and support.
And to his surprise, the idea filled him with an elemental happiness, an emotion he never expected to feel again …
But he wasn’t even sure if Alex liked him. And she had made her thoughts about legshackling herself to a husband crystal clear …
Lud, what a coil.
And yet, in that instant, his mind was made up. As for convincing Alex …
Heaving a sigh, he rapped on the trap and ordered his coachman to head to White’s. Perhaps a late-night brandy would help quiet all his jumbled worries
With luck, things would seem clearer in the light of day
“Get hold of yourself,” snarled Hammerton.
Standish’s hands were still shaking though he had just downed his second brandy. “Bloody hell.” His voice betrayed a note of rising panic. “How the devil did Branford know of our plan?
“No doubt he followed the chit,” shot back Hammerton. “It’s a pity your aim is not as good as mine.”
Standish poured another glass from the decanter on the sidetable, sloshing some of it over the polished mahogany surface.
“Do you think she’s … dead?” he asked after taking a hurried gulp.
Hammerton shrugged, his lips curling into a mercenary smile. “Impossible to tell. But that would work out just as well.”
As he paused for thought, the smile grew more pronounced.
“In fact, it might be even better. Branford would have a great deal to explain—a lone young lady, a deserted part of town, the sound of a gunshot. It would be easy enough to bribe some night watchman to say he had heard an argument and then a pistol go off. With luck, he would be tried for murder. Polite Society would believe it possible.”
“Why, that’s devilishly clever thinking on your part,” said Standish slowly. The spirits were finally beginning to take hold, and he relaxed enough to break into his own wolfish grin. “No doubt you are right.”
“Try not to forget that I always am, Arthur,” replied Hammerton. “You need trust me. Our plans will not be thwarted.” He took the glass from Standish’s hand and put it down on the table. “I think it’s time you return to your lodgings.”
“But I plan to go on to Madame Madeline’s brothel,” whined Standish.
“Not tonight, Arthur,” ordered Hammerton. “In your current state, your tongue would no doubt be flapping as wildly as the sheets. We can’t afford such a thing—is that clear? You will retire until you have rein on your emotions.”
Standish’s eyes flared, but he said no more.
They began to leave the private room of White’s when the sound of a familiar voice in the corridor caused Hammerton to grasp his cousin’s shoulder and pull him back.
“What did you say, Tibbons?” Branford drew to an abrupt halt just short of the half-closed door.
“Begging Your Lordship’s pardon, but your man Simms arrived ten minutes ago and was looking for you, sir. He said it was urgent. I put him in the library since he asked to wait,” answered the nervous porter. “Did I do right thing, sir?”
“Yes,” replied Branford. Without further word, he hurried to join his groom.
Simms turned from the fire as the earl entered the library.
“Sorry, Cap’n, but I discovered some rather interesting news in East Anglia. I rushed back as fast as I could—and I hope it ain’t too late.”
The two of them put their heads together and spoke in low tones for a short while.
“I thought you should know, Cap’n, seeing as how the man’s on his deathbed. You were right—”
“Excellent thinking, Simms,” interrupted Branford. “You can tell me all the details in the carriage ride north. Go tell Brown we will leave immediately.”
Simms nodded and rushed from the room.
Branford made to follow, then hesitated. After a moment of reflection, he strode over to the writing desk behind the settee and took up a pen and sheet of paper. He hesitated again, nib poised over the blank sheet, unsure of how to strike a tone that was neither too formal not too, too …
He drew in a harried breath. Time was of the essence—there wasn’t a moment to waste in trying to polish his words as nicely as he might wish—and so the earl quickly scribbled a few lines across the paper.
Miss Chilton,,
I’ve been called away on a matter of grave importance. I shall call on you as soon as I am able and hope to have some interesting news for you. In any case, we have much to discuss. In the meantime, be very careful and convince Justin to do the same.
B.
He read it over, then folded and sealed the note.
It was awfully bland, considering what had just passed between them, but it would have to do.
He forbore to add in writing that the interesting news would also include the acquisition of a special license.
That, no doubt, would indeed be a matter of lengthy discussion, given her opinion on the matrimonial state.
The club servant hadn’t budged. Branford paused and pressed the note into his hand, along with a few gold coins.
“Deliver this to Miss Chilton at 30 Half Moon Street without delay.”
“Yes, milord!”
Branford signaled for his greatcoat and left the club.
Hammerton waited a moment then slithered out to where the servant was still staring at the guineas in his hand, not quite believing his good fortune.
“I happened to hear my good friend the Earl of Branford request that you deliver a message for him. As it happens, I am passing that way right now on my way home and would be happy to see it safely into the hands of the right person—as a personal favor to His Lordship.”
The man looked confused. “I don’t know, sir …”
“Nonsense.” Hammerton plucked the paper from the man’s hand and added another coin to his riches. “Why should you have to venture out in the dead of night when I may be of service to a friend?”
The man stared at the coins. “Very well, my lord, if you’re sure …”
“Have no fear. I shall take care of the matter.”
The note went into Hammerton’s pocket.