Chapter 13
Earlier that evening.
Eleanor shifted in her seat, Catherine beside her. “I am sorry that your mother is not feeling particularly well but I must say, it has made this adventure a little easier.”
“Indeed it has.” Catherine’s voice was higher than usual, her fingers twisting together in her lap. “I know that we are only sitting in the carriage, but I must confess that I find myself quite anxious.”
“There is nothing to worry about,” Eleanor reassured her, quickly.
“Look, there is Lord Finchley’s carriage.
Watch now.” Her heart began to quicken as Lord Finchley and his brother stepped out, with Lord Preston putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder.
Her heart leapt upwards at the sight of her beloved, wishing that she could leap out of the carriage and, in the darkness of the London street, throw herself into his arms just as she had done so many times before…
but was denied at present. A small sigh broke from her lips as she watched them walk away, wondering if he would look over his shoulder to see if she was nearby.
He did not.
“They cannot give any sign that we are present,” Catherine murmured, as if she could read all of Eleanor’s thoughts. “They must continue on their way.”
“Yes, you are quite correct.” Closing her eyes, Eleanor gripped the bottom of the carriage seat, trying to contain both her own nervousness and anticipation about what was to come.
Leaving the ball had been easy enough, for her father had permitted herself and Catherine to take a turn about the room together, while he went in search of some fine French brandy.
Eleanor had every expectation that he would not remember their presence until they returned, although they could not take too long.
The carriage rolled forward, the driver following after Lord Finchley’s carriage as he had been instructed. Eleanor held her breath as they came to a stop, relieved that there was still enough light from both the full moon and the flickering lanterns for her to see by.
“You are not going to step out, are you?” Catherine whispered, as Eleanor nodded. “You cannot, Eleanor! You will be – ”
“I have a plan,” Eleanor broke in, taking her cousin’s hand and pressing it. “Trust me, my dear cousin. When we see someone approach, we must step out of our own carriage and quickly make our way towards Lord Finchley’s. It is only a small distance away. All will be well.”
Catherine, her eyes rounded, said nothing but looked out of the window instead, leaving Eleanor to do the same.
Quite how long they sat there for, Eleanor did not know – but all thought of the ball and her father was quickly forgotten.
Instead, she thought of Lord Finchley, of the threat he was under and about his sister…
and what would become of them all should news get out about her child.
“There.”
Catherine nudged her, and Eleanor’s breath caught in her chest, seeing a small figure stepping out from the other side of the street. She could not make them out, but seeing them begin to approach the carriage, reaching for the door, she quickly stepped out herself.
“Do come along!” she exclaimed loudly, walking towards Lord Finchley’s carriage with hastened steps and hoping that Catherine was following behind. “It must be this one, I am sure of it!”
The figure ahead of her stopped at once, the door of the carriage now pulled open.
“Goodness, you quite frightened me!” Eleanor put one hand to her heart as Catherine followed after her. “Forgive me, I have left something… well, something of note in another carriage, and I cannot seem to locate it. The carriage, that is.”
The person stepped back from the carriage but said nothing, and Eleanor, her eyebrows lifting, saw that it was nothing more than a young man – a young man who was not dressed in any sort of finery.
“Is this your master’s?” Catherine, coming to stand beside Eleanor, shook one hand in the young man’s face. “You are not here to steal from these fine carriages, are you?”
“What else can I do, miss?” The fellow dropped his head but began to step back, moving away from them. “I am ever so hungry and these rich folks… well, sometimes there’s something that might get me some food.”
Catherine tossed her head. “And you thought to approach this carriage?” she asked as Eleanor let out an exclamation of what she hoped sounded like shock. “Would you have come for my own one next?”
“No, miss, I promise you, I – ” Without warning, the young man turned on his heel and ran off into the darkness, leaving Eleanor and Catherine alone. Eleanor made to shut the door of the carriage, only to frown and pause. Then, after a moment, she looked back at Catherine, speaking in a loud voice.
“I think we should make quite certain there is nothing in this carriage that has any value, for fear that it will be taken. What if that thief should return?”
“Quite,” Catherine agreed, taking hold of the idea swiftly. “Is that not the driver? He must be quite deaf not to have heard that fellow approaching!”
“He was very quiet,” Eleanor replied, hoping that whoever that young man had been, he was now listening to every word. “Driver, to whom does this carriage belong?”
Within a few moments – and with as loud a conversation as they could manage without appearing as if to shout – Eleanor and Catherine returned swiftly to the ball, the bag with money held tightly in Eleanor’s hand.
Her heart had been beating at a furious pace for the last few minutes, but a big, bright smile spread across her face as she stepped inside.
“We did very well, I think,” Catherine breathed, as the light and the laughter of the ballroom welcomed them back in. “I am sure that the thief will think it nothing but a mistake, an unexpected interruption.”
“And Lord Finchley’s money is quite safe,” Eleanor added, looping her arm through her cousin’s. “I only wish that we were able to offer Lord Finchley more.”
“I think he will be very grateful for what we have achieved,” Catherine said firmly. “Look, now, there he is… and there is Lord Preston with him.”
Hearing the warmth that flooded Catherine’s voice at the mention of Lord Preston, Eleanor hid her smile, set her hand with the bag of money behind her back, and then moved directly towards the two gentlemen.
The moment Lord Finchley saw them, Eleanor’s heart leapt at the tenderness and the relief in his eyes.
He took a step towards her but then stopped, permitting them to make their way towards them instead of rushing forward as she knew he wanted to.
“Lord Preston, good evening.”
“My dear Eleanor,” he responded, his eyes never leaving hers. “Thank goodness you are quite all right. What happened?”
Tilting her head just a little, she brought her other arm back around, revealing to him the money. “I was able to secure this,” she said, as shock wiped the color from his face in a moment. “Your money, Lord Finchley. It is all quite safe.”
He took it gingerly, as if he could not quite believe that she had it safe. “How… how could it be?”
“We pretended that we were looking for something and came upon the thief just as he was opening your carriage,” Catherine told them, as Eleanor nodded. “I do not think that he had any awareness that we were doing so purposefully.”
Lord Finchley looked down at the bag, then shook his head. “Goodness, I do not know what to say. I am relieved that you are both quite all right and grateful indeed that you stopped them from taking this bag. It will not be long before they require the coin again, however.”
“But it gives us a little time to ascertain who it is that desires to steal your wealth in such a way,” Eleanor said, as Lord Preston nodded fervently. “That can only be a good thing.”
With a deep breath, Lord Finchley smiled at her. “You are quite right.”
“I do wish that we could tell you we recognized a gentleman and we knew precisely who it was, but I am afraid there was no gentleman there this evening.” Eleanor’s spirits dipped.
“There was a young man at your carriage, but he was dressed very poorly and made it appear as if he wanted to find some coin to buy himself some food.”
Lord Finchley’s lips pursed, his brow furrowing. “Whoever is behind this is clearly unwilling to do such a thing himself.”
“It seems as if they are willing to use the poorer class to gain what they want.” Catherine spread out her hands. “It protects them also, does it not?”
“Because there is so little chance for us to discover their true identity, yes,” Eleanor said, with a small sigh. “But there is something in what we have discovered, at least. Did you have any information from your cousins that might be of use?”
With a wry smile, Lord Finchley shook his head. “Save for the fact that my cousin is, evidently, unwilling to give up the pursuit of one particular gentleman, no. They have no enemies they know of.” His smile faded. “Which means we are still in great difficulty.”
Eleanor frowned. “From what we have learned, there must be something more we can do.”
“And we will discover it,” Lord Finchley declared, a sudden determination in him that made Eleanor’s eyebrows lift. “But for now, I think we should dance.”
Catherine let out a small squeal of delight as Lord Preston offered her his hand and without even a glance back at Eleanor, she was on his arm and walking towards the dance floor.
“I should like to wait until your waltz but the country dance will suffice for the moment.”
Eleanor’s chest tightened as she took Lord Finchley’s arm. “I would give you all my dances, if I could.”
“And yet, we are nothing more than acquaintances at present,” he reminded her as a shoot of pain began to grow in her heart. “That is all we can be for the moment.”
“Although we long for more,” she murmured, as he led her out. A low sigh came from his lips as he nodded, looking down at her with hope burning in his green eyes.
“Yes, my dear Lady Eleanor. We most certainly do.”