Chapter Nineteen #2
Would Gramma be pleased with her news? She had warned Prue that rakes ravished women and then left them to seek other prey.
But that was not the man she knew, although she couldn’t deny Jack’s rakish behavior when they’d first met, and he’d kissed her.
Might it have been his sadness and disillusionment that held him back from close ties?
The man she’d grown to love was decent and caring.
He’d proven it again and again by his gallant actions.
She sighed. Despite the trauma of discovering the truth behind his mother’s disappearance, it seemed to ease the torment in his soul.
Prue hurried into the drawing room.
Gramma surveyed her. “I’m glad that hollow-eyed look has vanished. You are positively radiant! Dare I ask what has occurred to bring about such a change?”
Prue joined her on the sofa and took Gramma’s frail hand in hers. “Jack has asked me to marry him.” She searched Gramma’s blue eyes for a sign of dismay but didn’t find it. “And I have said yes.”
Gramma squeezed her hand. “Of course you have.”
Prue gasped, aware she’d been holding her breath. “You approve, then, Gramma?”
An amused smile lifted her lips. “It is just as well that I do. You would marry him, anyway.”
Prue laughed. “I love him.”
“He’s a good man, Prudence, and has certainly proven himself worthy of you. I will go to my grave with no concerns about your future.”
Prue frowned. “Please don’t speak of such things. I cannot bear it.”
“My dear girl. It happens to us all. But I shall certainly be there for your wedding. And, I hope, the birth of your first child.”
Prue leaned forward and kissed Gramma’s powdery cheek. “I pray you will, Gramma.”
*
When Jack walked into Darby’s holding cell awaiting trial at Bow Street Magistrate’s Court, Will had lost all his cockiness. His face looked gray, and fear darkened his eyes. “Will it help me, my lord? If I tell you what I know?”
“No one can save you from the gallows if that is the decision of the court,” Jack said, unwilling to whitewash it. “You’re up on more than one murder charge. But I will do what I can to see that you’re fairly treated in Newgate.”
Will stared at Jack with hope in his eyes. “Maybe I won’t hang.”
“Tell me about the man who hired you to kill the Earl of Sedgewick.”
“I met him at a tavern near the docks. Never told me his name.”
“Describe his appearance.”
“A toff. Tall, fair.”
It isn’t enough. “Nothing else?”
Will shrugged. “Mean eyes, a yellow-brown color, like an agate I found once.”
Likely stolen, Jack surmised. “Why were you hired to break into Lady Aldridge’s home?”
“To snatch a woman he said he wanted. I tried once, but when I couldn’t find her, I barely made it out with the footmen on the alert. Told him I wouldn’t do it again.” Will scowled. “Found someone else to do his dirty work, didn’t he? Now he won’t pay me the blunt he owes me.”
That hardly seemed a concern for him now, but Jack had to ask. “What could you do about it?”
Will narrowed his eyes, and a trace of the old cockiness returned. “Got some great mates. He’d better watch his back.”
“That’s if they can find him.”
“I know where he’s likely to be.”
“Where?”
“Had to pick up the blunt he owed me once from his bit ’o muslin’s rooms in Russell Square.”
“Know her name?”
“Ruby…” He shrugged.
Jack stood and put on his hat.
Will stared up at him. “What happens now?”
“You wait for the trial and hope the judge is having a good day.”
Will’s outraged roar followed Jack out.
Reaching the pavement, he hailed a passing hackney. “Russell Square,” he said to the jarvey as he climbed inside.
When he alighted at Russell Square, he stood wondering which of the houses Ruby lived in.
A familiar man hailed him. He crossed the street to Jack.
“Providential to find you here, my lord,” Everton said with a small bow. “I found the quarry at his hunting box in Surrey and followed him here to his mistress’s home.” The wily Bow Street Runner grinned. “Wanted to send you word, but I feared if I left, he might disappear again.”
“Excellent work, Everton.” Jack clapped him on the shoulder. He turned to view the row of big houses. “Which is it?”
“Number eleven. Miss Ruby Owens has rooms on the second floor.”
“If he sees me, he’ll run.” Jack rubbed his jaw. “You are armed?”
“That I am, sir.”
“Knock on her door and try to get him to come out into the hall. I’ll take it from there.”
“Right you are, my lord.” Everton crossed the road and disappeared inside the building.
Jack followed Everton into the foyer. He cocked his gun and mounted the stairs, pausing out of sight to listen.
A door opened. A woman’s voice, then a man’s, which rose to a shout. Fearing for the Runner, Jack bolted up the stairs and broke onto the scene as two shots rang out.
Stanton lay on the ground. Ruby, a bosomy woman in a floral dressing gown, was on her knees beside him. She glared up at Jack, pushing her brown locks away from her face. “You’ve killed him!”
Stanton was very much alive. He cursed fulsomely and clutched his shoulder where blood began to spread over his shirt. “I am the Earl of Sedgewick!” he yelled.
Ignoring him, Jack turned to the Runner. “You aren’t hurt, Everton?”
“No, my lord. Had to shoot. I didn’t have a choice,” Everton said. “Fortunate for me his shot went wide. I aimed to disable rather than kill him.”
“You did well. I’m glad Stanton proved a poor shot. Let’s get him inside and send for a surgeon. After he’s patched up, we’ll have the wagon take him to Bow Street Magistrate’s Court. There’s someone in a cell there who will identify him.”
Some hours later, after Stanton was carried off still protesting in the wagon, Jack left for Bow Street Magistrate’s Court, without a doubt in his mind there was enough evidence to see Stanton hang.
A satisfactory outcome. As well as his own family’s justice, Prudence would now be safe, and once they were married, he intended to keep her so for all their lives together.