Chapter Seventeen
In the bedchamber, Prue lay staring into the darkness, wondering at her boldness.
Although Jack hadn’t agreed, she was confident she could persuade him.
A woman knew when a man desired her. It was obvious in the heated glance he gave her.
She accepted that she could be badly hurt.
Hadn’t Gramma warned her not to fall in love with a rake?
Or did he encourage this reputation, as a cover for his work?
As an agent, he would want to continue working for the government.
Despite knowing he would never marry her, she still loved him: loved his strength and how brave and caring he was, but more because of the sadness she felt was hidden deep in his soul.
She had sensed it in his quiet, reflective moments.
Had he been born this way? Or might something have happened in his past to make him so?
She wished he would confide in her and yearned to give him all of herself, to ease that sorrow.
Prue knew herself to be na?ve, with little experience of the ton.
Except for that one brief Season, which hadn’t been a great success and had been later than most debutantes had their debuts.
Once emerging from the schoolroom, she had spent most of her time helping her ailing mother, and then after she’d passed away, visiting the tenants and riding over the estate lands with her father.
It was a life she enjoyed, and she didn’t want to give it up to become some man’s chattel.
And because her beloved father had ensured her independence, she didn’t have to.
With a soft moan, she turned over and pummeled the lumpy pillow. Since meeting Jack, she wanted something more from the life she’d envisaged. A man to share it with. Someone she could respect and love. She hadn’t been completely honest with him about that when she’d said she didn’t with to marry.
Tomorrow, she would go back to Richmond. Would the intimacy they’d shared be over? Jack would want to find Roland, she was sure. Could her cousin be searching for her at this very moment?
She darted out of bed to ensure the door was securely locked. Shivering, she rubbed her arms. No matter where life took her, would she ever feel as content as she once had been?
Prue fell asleep in the early hours and woke to bright sunshine filtering in around the edge of the blinds.
She left the bed and splashed cold water on her face at the washstand.
Dressing in the soiled clothes again brought a mew of distaste.
Someone knocked on the door while she grappled with her hair.
“It’s Millie, my lady. Are you awake? I have brought your chocolate.”
Prue unlocked the door and the tall, fair-haired young woman who had attended her at her bath came in carrying a tray. She unloaded the chocolate pot, cup and saucer, toast, butter, and a dish of strawberry jam onto the table. “Is there anything else I can do for you, my lady?”
“No thank you, Millie.” Prue’s appetite had returned, and she tucked in, enjoying every mouthful.
She had eaten very little for days. After tidying herself, she went downstairs to have coffee and found Jack seated in the dining room, the air redolent with tasty aromas.
He had finished his ham and eggs and put down his napkin, rising to draw out her chair. “Did you sleep well?”
“I did, thank you.”
How handsome he looked, freshly shaven and smartly dressed. She wondered where he had slept but didn’t like to ask in case she was overheard by the staff, who whisked in and out of the room.
“Have you eaten?”
“I’ve had toast.”
He took a last sip of coffee and put down the cup. “Not enough.” He signaled to a serving maid. “Eat a good breakfast. We will be some hours on the road. I’ll return in an hour or so. There’s something I must do.”
“Where are you going?”
“To make inquiries.”
He was so strong and capable. But Roland, who she was sure was behind this, had shown himself to be ruthless. “Be careful, Jack.”
He smiled. “Don’t leave the inn.”
“All right.”
He left the room, and through the window, she saw him climb into the curricle, his groom had waiting for him.
He must have intended to go to the convent.
An uneasy shiver traveled down her spine.
Surely, he’d dealt with far more than this in his years working for the government, she decided, attempting to reassure herself.
As Prue took the last bite of her eggs, Mrs. Bloom came into the parlor. “Ah, good morning, my lady. I trust you were comfortable?”
Prue rose from the table. “I was, thank you.” Her face warmed.
Did this woman truly believe them to be married?
She was hopeless at telling lies. “My husband has gone to see to a business matter,” she said speaking a little too fast. With a calming breath, she continued…
“When he returns, we shall leave for London. Thank you for your kind assistance.”
“That was no trouble at all, Lady Hereford. I hope you feel better.” She glanced at Prue’s hand with Jack’s loose signet ring engraved with the family crest on her wedding finger.
“Such a pity your trunk was lost in the carriage accident.” When Prue murmured an agreement, she led the way to the parlor.
“His lordship has settled the bill, but please do wait for him here. I’ll have Joseph bring you fresh coffee if you wish. ”
“Thank you, I would appreciate it.” Prue was sure her cheeks flamed with color.
*
Jack pulled the curricle up outside the ancient building, which would have been a Catholic convent before King Henry VIII had wiped them out.
Now it appeared to be, as the vicar had told him, some kind of refuge, for several women toiled in the gardens.
They smiled at him as he made his way to the front entry.
He pulled the metal ring, and a bell clanged loudly within.
Footsteps sounded. The door opened, and a muscular man who might once have been a pugilist, for his face and ears were disfigured, glowered at Jack. He seemed completely out of place here.
“I would like to speak to the person in charge.” Jack handed him his card.
He didn’t look at it. Most likely couldn’t read. “Wait here,” he said gruffly before shutting the door again. Several minutes passed.
Jack cursed, impatient to have the information he sought and return to Lady Prudence. He disliked leaving her alone. Who knew where that bounder Stanton was?
Finally, the bolt slid back, and the door opened. The brusque man gestured for him to follow and walked away down the hall. He stopped and opened a door. “In here.”
Jack gave him a sidelong glance and entered the room, where a diminutive woman wearing a gray habit and a nun’s veil rose from behind a desk. She came around to greet him.
“I am Mother Superior Rosana.” She looked at the card Jack had given her. “Good morning, Lord Hereford.” She gestured to a chair and returned to her seat behind the desk. “How can I help you?”
Jack declined to sit with a shake of his head. “Why was Lady Prudence Sedgewick brought here?” he asked, deciding not to mince matters.
“She is safe?”
“Yes. No thanks to you, or whoever it was who gave you permission to hold her against her will.”
Her eyes widened and she pulled at her collar. “What is your relationship to Lady Prudence, my lord?”
“Lady Aldridge, her great-grandmama, is very worried about her.”
“You appear to be angry. It was done for the best.”
“How do you explain that, Mother Superior? When she was drugged and kidnaped against her will?”
“Her betrothed was worried about her mental health after the death of her father,” she said calmly, her pale face unreadable.
“He considered it best to give her time to rest and recover before they married. And as she was threatening to take her own life…” Her hands came together in a prayer-like gesture.
Jack clamped down on his jaw, fighting his anger. “Lady Prudence is not engaged, nor is she seriously depressed. Who is this supposed betrothed?”
She frowned. “Mr. William Guy. We never met in person. Our contact was by correspondence only. He arranged to bring her here, and after a few days’ rest, we were to try to help her. But, as I suspect you know, we didn’t get that chance before she ran away.”
“Lady Prudence took her life in her hands to leave here when no one would listen to her or offer to help her.”
Cold dignity made a stone mask of her face. “That was entirely her own decision, and a very rash one, I must say. I am sorry. Is she all right?”
“No thanks to you, madam. I would advise you not to accept kidnapped women with so little verification in the future. Lady Prudence’s great-grandmama, Lady Aldridge, may choose to pursue this in the courts, and if not, I could bring it to the attention of the Bow Street Magistrate’s Court.
” Jack strode to the door and pulled it open.
Clearly rattled, she rose quickly and followed him to the door. “But, my lord, you say she is not engaged? Then why…?”
“That is what I intend to find out.” Jack walked out, pushing past the bruiser hovering in the hall.
Something didn’t smell right about this place, but he had no time to pursue it.
But he fully intended to get the law involved.
Right now, he had more important things on his mind.
“Waste of time,” he said to his groom as he climbed into the curricle.
“Might have known it, milord,” Joseph said glumly as they drove away down the drive. When they reached the inn, he was relieved to find Prudence waiting for him in the parlor. She rose and came to him. “Did you find out anything?”
He took her arm. “We can talk on the way back to Richmond.”
“I was afraid I might lose this.” Seated beside Jack in the curricle, Prue removed the ring he had given her from her finger and handed it to him. “I think Mrs. Bloom suspected we were not married.”
He slipped it on his little finger. “Mm, perhaps. She’s a shrewd woman of business and was paid well.”
“Now, quickly, Jack, tell me what you found out.”
“Not much, I’m afraid. The nun, Mother Rosana, never saw your captor, but she gave me a name: William Guy. Mean anything to you?”
She gasped. “It does. Roland William Guy Stanton.”
“Well, at least we know now for sure.” He turned to look at her. “I shall deal with him.”
“He’s a devil. I could tell you countless stories about his behavior when we were young. There were times when he frightened me.”
Jack tightened his hands around the reins. “He won’t do so again.”
He was loath to leave her at her great-grandmother’s.
It didn’t seem safe with her elderly staff and a couple of young footmen.
But he must go to London. With luck, Will Darby’s tongue might have loosened enough to tell them about his involvement with Stanton, and where he might be found.
It wasn’t likely Stanton would risk staying at his London address now that his plan had failed.
“There’s someone I want to see in London,” he said as the horses climbed a hill. “The man who sent your father the letter, Bartholomew Everton.”
“Who is this man? How did you find him?”
“He was out of Town when I called on him. He’s a Bow Street Runner and appears to be a man of modest means. His connection to your father is something I have yet to find out.”
“‘A Bow Street Runner’? What would he want with my father? I think I should be there when you meet him.” Prudence’s hopeful gaze met his with an appeal.
She is dashed hard to refuse.
“That would be difficult.”
“But not impossible, surely,” she persisted.
Jack sighed. “I hope to find him tomorrow and if I learn anything of interest, I’ll send word. It’s the best I can promise, sweetheart.”
“Very well, Jack,” she said with false meekness he’d learned not to trust.
He feared she could easily change his mind to get her way if she chose, when no woman had succeeded thus far in his life. But somehow knowing it didn’t unnerve him, as it once might have done. He wanted to please her. And there was something else he’d much rather do, when this matter was settled.
Dear God! Was he lost? His friend Damian had told him he wouldn’t escape forever. “You need love in your life, Jack,” he’d said. “Eventually, you’ll succumb.”
“You think so, do you?” he’d responded.
“I’m so sure of it, I’d put money on it in White’s betting book.”
Jack supposed he’d be in for a ribbing. He hated it when Damian was right.