Chapter 15
Rowe House
Well Close Square, London
Beatrice had watched from her bedroom window when a carriage pulled into the drive, and her warehouse manager, Edmund Wallingford, stepped out.
She sucked in a breath that felt like a knife to the heart.
Silas was wasting no time in taking over the entire operation of Rowe Shipping.
In that moment, she knew what she had to do.
She couldn't be sent away to some sort of institution without letting her people know that she'd tried her best to protect them.
She tried the door to her bedchamber without any luck. He'd somehow barricaded the other side. And then she thought of the back servants' staircase, which by now she was well familiar with after acting as a servant at the Horsemen's safe house. "Anneke--help me."
They pushed as one against the back doorway to the chamber, next to the fireplace. After a few shoves, whatever had been braced against the door on the other side gave way. A slot gave way that was just enough for Beatrice to force her way through.
She raced down the slippery steps, trying not to look at the chasm beneath her.
At last she came to a door that used to belong to her late husband.
She pushed through easily and crept to the hallway outside.
When she reached the staircase, she was dumbfounded to see Edmund making his way up the darkened stairs.
"Edmund--," she called out with a loud hiss.
His eyes lit up, and he gave her a broad smile. "Mrs. Rowe...you're safe...we'd nearly given up on you."
"I'm so sorry for having led your associates to their doom. We had no idea...we were betrayed."
He frowned. "No one blames you. We all know Silas is behind this. We're with you. Just tell us how we can help."
"Get word to Warrick Dyer. Let him know I'm being held prisoner, and whatever he organizes to keep Silas from taking over Rowe Shipping, you can trust him."
September 18, 1827
Berkley Square, London
Warrick watched as Marianne carefully extricated the gleaming green malachite casket which contained the gods knew what.
He'd never known such a single-minded woman, but then again she was the only woman his brother had ever been even mildly attracted to.
That feat alone must have taken an abundance of single-mindedness.
He watched as the minutes ticked by and she tried one maneuver after another to get at whatever treasure was inside.
He had no desire to end up that night in gaol, so when she was taking a short rest from trying, he snatched the box out of her hands and gave the fragile casket a smart smack.
The box fell open along a puzzle-like line without breaking.
..and...a deep ruby-shaded glass box slid out onto the floor.
Marianne grabbed the errant box and shook it vigorously next her ear. "It's a ring."
"Well, open it then."
She tried several turns, twists, and smacks of her own, but the ruby box was no more amenable to opening than the green one had been.
Warrick grabbed the box...and Marianne and headed for the nearest exit. He'd heard something, probably a suspicious servant. "Worry about that damned box once you get home." And with that, they were gone.
They were picked up by Wu driving Warrick's carriage a few streets over from where they'd broken into the dowager countess's townhouse.
When he thought to deliver Marianne quietly back to her fortress-like home she shared with his brother, Con met them inside the door, and he wasn't happy.
"Not that damnable green malachite box again?" he thundered.
Marianne lifted her chin in defiance. "It's not green anymore. It's red now."
Con silently pointed in the direction of their bedchamber. "You need your rest for our child. I can't believe you're out with him, breaking into houses a-thieving again."
She reached up, gave him a scorching kiss that made even Warrick blush, and skipped up the steps holding tightly to the broken green box as well as the new, mysterious red one.
Con looked back to Warrick. "You...with me."
When Warrick followed Con into his former office-turned-parlor, there was a strange man waiting to meet with him.
"Warrick, meet Edmund Wallingford. He has some news you'll want to hear."
September 19, 1827
Berkley Square, London
Warrick knew a lot about Rowe Shipping, but he'd never actually considered the sum total of all her employees between the docks, the warehouses, and the financial people who tracked income and expenses, they were an actual army when they all came together, as they did now, marching up the long, curving drive in front of Rowe House at Well Close Square.
He'd also brought along Barrister Stephen Forsythe, an old school friend of Carrington-Bowles.
The well known barrister did not generally deal with the nuts and bolts of legal technicalities, but he was a legend at winning cases in the London courts, and a force to be dealt with that Warrick was fairly sure would not be questioned by Silas Rowe.
When Warrick, all his brothers, their men, and her force of workers pounded at the front portico, Silas came to the front entryway and surrendered.
If there was some mighty, secret force behind the man, there was none of it to be seen.
He took one look at all the forces against him and slunk off into the night in his carriage.
Both Beatrice and Anneke raced down to the portico with Willie in tow. When Beatrice flung herself into Warrick's arms, he crushed her to him and went inside.
"Don't ever leave me again," she murmured into his neck where she'd buried her face.
"Don't ever doubt me again," he rumbled.
"Will you stay here with me and help me rebuild?" There was an uncertain tremble in Beatrice's voice.
"On one condition. Whenever I look up, you'll be there and whenever you look up, ye won't be able to banish me from your sight, or your life."
"I think I can live with that," she said, and burrowed back against his chest."
- THE END -