Chapter 37 #2
“Dunno, ma’am. We were locked up all night, only managed t’ break down the cellar door an hour ago. I were about t’ run an’ fetch yer, ma’am. No idea where Ginny were took, nor Jasp. Know only as I heard yer lady’s maid tryin’ to sweet talk ’im before she fell silent.”
“Sweet talk whom, Marty? Who?”
“Finch, ma’am. Didn’t yer ol’ man tell yer Finch himself paid his lordship another call?”
“No.” Elizabeth’s heart raced. “My father made no sense at all.” She inhaled a steadying breath. “Details, Marty. Now.”
“Right. Only…” The blasted man looked embarrassed.
“Do not spare me, sir. I promise I’ll not faint.” Though Elizabeth did indeed pale with every shocking word Milton’s servant spoke. By the end, she gripped the footman’s arm to keep herself upright.
Back in the carriage, her alarm only grew.
Ginny had been taken by Finch, only where Marty did not know, and Elizabeth had no idea what to do about it either.
Her husband’s man believed Milton had also been taken, yet he wasn’t wholly sure; he’d been in the cellar with the rest of staff.
Nor did Papa’s addled brain equate Finch’s earlier house call with the ensuing ransacking of his home.
Only the cautious tread Marty had heard ascend the stairs after the house had fallen quiet made him believe Milton had come. He knew his master’s gait.
Li’s words returned to Elizabeth: If Jasper is not back, send word to me at once.
She rapped the carriage roof, urging the driver faster while reminding herself her husband had friends. Marty would keep watch over Papa, and Cook would restore order to Father’s house.
Elizabeth simply prayed both her husband and lady’s maid awaited her at home.
Yet the moment she walked in, Gerald’s face said otherwise. She handed her pelisse to a footman as Gerald silently followed her into the parlor, Murdoch right behind him.
Elizabeth told them all she knew, imploring, “We must act quickly to find both Ginny and Milton. Moreover, we do not know for certain the Baron was taken by Finch, for Marty could not confirm—”
“Oh, he has ’im.” Murdoch shook her head, tears starting in her eyes. “That connivin’, schemin’ lout has our Jasp. I feel it in me gut. He’s never let ’im go, poor lad. Haunted that sweet boy his entire—”
“Will you be quiet!” Gerald’s voice cracked. “Did y’ not hear th’ mistress, woman? We’re t’ remain rational an’ composed.”
Elizabeth had never witnessed her husband’s two most dependable servants in such distress. She’d been counting on them to keep her calm.
“An’ how’s a body t’ stay sane when our lad’s been snatched an’ poor Ginny’s also gone missin’?” Murdoch lashed back. “An’ Miss Winthrop as like married t’ Arty by now, if she’s not been—”
God. Elizabeth’s panic reached new heights. Annabelle.
“An’ what good’s it alarmin’ th’ mistress with such talk, eh?” Gerald’s face shone red. “You’ve a job t’ uphold, Martha, an’ from where I stands y’ best—”
“From where you stands, John Gerald, you’d best watch yer tongue, lest I toss both you an’ yer ring!”
“Both of you, stop.” Elizabeth’s pitched tone matched the fury on Murdoch’s face. “Are you two married?” She looked from one to the other.
“Betrothed,” Murdoch muttered. “Nigh five years, though he’s taken liberties.”
Gerald bristled. “I’ve done naught but what you wanted, woman.”
“Enough.” Elizabeth cut them off. “I do not care what squabbles you have, married or not. I must know whom to trust and whom to beware. I will send a message forthwith to Miss Li, but I should like to hear from each of you, calmly and coherently, what you believe to be our best course of action.”
Neither would look at her.
“I am inclined to report the ransacking of my father’s house to the authorities, for start, though we cannot—”
“Don’t!” the two cried in unison, startling Elizabeth.
“Ma’am, you tell th’ bobbies an’ it’ll be that much worse,” Gerald explained. “Finch’s got th’ peelers in ’is pockets, an’ Jasp an’ Arty done run afoul of ’em too oft in their youth. Ain’t no love there, ma’am, only trouble.”
There seemed no end to trouble, Elizabeth thought. No end!
“Then please,” she implored, “what do you suggest?”
This seemed to jolt them finally, for both proceeded to tell Elizabeth all they knew of Finch, and all they feared. By the end of their recounting, Murdoch announced the best anyone could do was pray Ginny and Jasper would both be found alive.
Nerves utterly frayed, Elizabeth broke down and wept.
His wife sighed in the crook of Harris’s arm, a bundle of worry. Nothing seemed to ease her trepidation on this, the final leg of their journey. Neither games nor kisses did the trick as their carriage rolled toward London.
“I know you’re not asleep,” he grumbled.
“You cannot know if I am sleeping or—”
“You’re stewin’. So out with it then.” He poked her midriff.
She huffed. “I am afraid what people will think when we return, what Papa will say.”
“Bella, once your old man’s apprised in full of Finch, he’ll thank his lucky stars I made off with yer when I did.”
“Oh I doubt that very much, Arthur.”
Harris felt kicked. He’d saved her from a hideous fate, at no small cost to himself. Winthrop better be bloody grateful.
“You see, it is not…” She looked embarrassed. “It was my mother’s dying wish that I should marry well, to make up for her own failed union with Papa.”
“So yer mum weren’t happy. Sounds like most married ladies I know.”
Bella began to pluck lint off his waistcoat this time, not her skirts. “She felt degraded by Father’s gambling. At least, Lizzie has always implied as much. I was so young when my mother passed, I hardly remember her.”
“Well I don’t see how marriage t’ me should reflect poorly on you when yer father betrothed yer t’ Finch,” he ground out.
“He’d no concern fer yer honor, yer future, let alone yer wellbeing when he gambled you to that man, Bella.
Not gambled, sold. So if you think fer an instant that my marryin’ you is less honorable than yer father’s dishonorable—”
“Arthur, society will look unfavorably upon you not because you own a gaming hall, but because you are not titled. They would have looked just as unfavorably on Mr. Finch had I married him.”
“Yet Jasper’s respectable because he bought himself a bleedin’ Scottish Barony? A blasted title makes all th’ difference, do it?” He was angrier than he liked, and he didn’t know why.
“It is not what I think, Arthur, it is—”
“What th’ rest o’ them bloody toffs’ll say, I see.”
She looked like she wished to take back her words, but she couldn’t. It was all true.
He cut to the quick. “Well y’ can rest pretty, wife, as I’m deliverin’ you t’ the Baron and Lady Milton first, before we see yer dear papa.” He scowled. “I’ve a might many things t’ discuss now with Jasp, not least o’ which is whether he’s dealt with yer former beau yet.”
He knew his tone was ugly, but Harris didn’t care.
“An’ when we do visit yer fine father, you’ll breathe not a word of annullin’ our marriage, Bella, not a word.
” He pierced her with his gaze. “Fer appearance’s sake, you’ll live with me at The Leaf until Finch is no longer a threat.
You’ll share me bed so it appears we’re truly wed and no gossip spreads.
” He stared hard at her. “Do I make myself clear?”
She lowered her gaze. “Yes, Arthur.”
He glared out the carriage window, his mood sullen as hell as they entered London’s outskirts.