‘I cannot thank you enough for your generosity, my lord,’ she murmured, keeping her eyes on his chest as her face unaccountably coloured up. ‘Without your intervention, I don’t know what would have happened.’ She gave a small curtsy, before finally lifting her eyes to his where she fought a gasp at the brief flare of emotion in their depths. She had time to realise that his eyes were beautiful, the colour of warm dark honey, before the shutters came down.
‘The honour was mine,’ he answered huskily, bowing his head in return.
For a fleeting second, they stared at each other, then Nate deliberately took a step back and waved his hand towards the door, murmuring a hoarse, ‘After you, my lady…?’
Chapter Eleven
Augustus Shackleford was unusually quiet during the journey back to Cottesmore. Despite Chastity’s declaration that what happened had not been his fault, he couldn’t help feeling responsible. If he’d have taken up Harding’s offer of sanctuary, Mercedes would not have been put in a such a precarious position. If anyone found out that she’d spent the better part of two nights alone with a man … well, a good match was the last thing she’d make.
And what if the blackguard Reinhardt did show his face again? If he did, it would no doubt be in London. Her father couldn’t provide Mercy with bodyguards everywhere she went – that would cause a scandal in itself. Neither could the Earl be on hand every time she stepped outside the door. Mayhap he would have her forego the season, but if he took such a step, he would very likely be condemning his daughter to lifelong spinsterhood.
And Mercedes Stanhope deserved to be mistress of her own home with a man who would cherish and take care of her. The Reverend gave himself a mental shake. He knew he was being fanciful.Tonmarriages seldom came with such considerations – in truth, his daughters had all been uncommonly lucky.But nevertheless, she deserved to have what might be her last opportunity.
Reverend Shackleford came to a decision.Hewould accompany her to London. No one would question a man of the cloth, especially when that man was her grandfather. And whilst they were there, he’d deuced well find out where Reinhardt was holed up and put an end to the varmint.
For that he’d need the help of his son-in-law, Jamie Fitzroy. The Reverend knew that since Jamie had become a magistrate, he and Prudence spent the majority of their time in London. It wouldn’t take much to convince both of them to help – especially as Pru would likely be in if she fell in…
But there was one more person vital to the success of a such a mission.
He needed Percy.
It had been far too long since the two of them had done a spot of sleuthing together. Reverend Shackleford oft felt guilty that the responsibilities of the parish had by and large been taken over by his curate. Naturally, his guilt did not extend to taking them back, but nevertheless, the Reverend felt it was time for Percy to put his responsibilities aside for a time and have a little excitement.
Of course, the possibility that searching the streets of London for a madman with a penchant for kidnapping young ladies might actually be his curate’s worst nightmare, simply never occurred to him…
***
As he read Augustus Shackeford’s missive, Percy Noon felt as if a large hand was tightening gigantic fingers around his heart. The Reverend’s strongly wordedrequestto accompany him to London had taken the curate back to their last disastrous visit to the Capital - although, in all fairness, it hadn’t been quite so disastrous for King George, since their interference in his coronation had actually prevented the monarch’s assassination – but nevertheless, Percy still found himself waking up in a cold sweat from nightmares in which he’d been trying to force himself through endless crowds surrounding Westminster Hall in time to prevent the King’s murder.
And now, of course, there was Finn. Even if he found someone to take over the parish services, how could he leave Lizzy to deal with Finn on her own? The lad was busy finding his feet, and as his self-confidence grew, so did his proclivity for mischief. Without a father’s hand, Percy very much feared the boy would run rings around his mother.
Putting the letter down, the curate put his head in his hands. He couldn’t simply ignore his superior’s entreaty, and what was worse - if he was being entirely honest with himself, there was even the tiniest hint of anticipation at the thought of once again being embroiled in some havey cavey business.
The Reverend had not written what thehavey caveybusiness actually was, but Percy knew it was something to do with Mercedes. An explanation would be forthcoming once they were in London. Fortunately, that wasn’t going to be for another couple of weeks, so at least Percy would have the chance to prepare Lizzy and locate a temporary replacement – or in the Reverend’s words, ‘Find someone in the village who can read, and hand him a Bible.’
Some things never changed…
***
‘I thought you hadn’t known much about Mercedes’ mother,’ Chastity said carefully when they were finally in the privacy of their bedchamber. She was folding her clothes away, having dismissed her personal maid early.
This was the first opportunity they’d had to discuss Reinhardt. In the initial euphoria of having Mercy back, both Christian and Chastity had deliberately kept the conversation away from the subject of her near abduction – predominantly because they didn’t want the twins to be alarmed.
Although the Reverend had maintained his Friday face throughout most of the meal in protest at being kept in the dark, Mercy herself had seemed more than content to leave any serious discussions until the morrow.
To Chastity’s surprise, her stepdaughter had seemed less than enthused about her safe return to Cottesmore and was quiet and withdrawn throughout dinner. At first, Chastity had thought her traumatised, but as the evening went on, she didn’t think that was the case. It was more as if Mercy was deep in thought - and having seven sisters who’d sported similar faces when contemplating tying their garter in public, Chastity was understandably filled with some disquiet.
Fortunately, Agnes had inadvertently kept the younger ones entertained with a lurid description of the time a seagull dropped a winkle in her ear, so Chastity’s careful observation of her stepdaughter went largely unnoticed. Except by her husband of course. Indeed, Christian had expected Mercy’s preoccupation to be the first thing they talked about after retiring, but like most women, Chastity had surprised him by her opening gambit.
Sighing, he sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘In the letter she left, Mercy’s mother declared she had consumption. I couldn’t simply abandon her to her fate. At the very least, I owed it to my daughter to ensure her mother was taken care of.’ He looked down at his hands. ‘I hired a private detective to investigate her whereabouts. That private detective was Oliver Reinhardt.’
Chastity frowned, sitting beside him. ‘I thought you said he was a gambler?’
‘He was, though I didn’t know it at the time. He was recommended to me by an acquaintance – one who apparently owed Reinhardt a lot of money. The bastard didn’t confine his games to the tables. I found out later that he was acquainted with Mercy’s mother. Had even possibly been one of her clients. He’d known where she was from the onset, though he led me a merry dance with hissupposedinvestigation.’ Christian paused, passing his hand wearily over his face. Clearly the memory was distressing. Chastity said nothing, allowing him to speak.
‘She was being taken care of by a Catholic mission. By the time I got to her, she was very close to death and far too frail to be moved. Reinhardt had been playing me for weeks while Mercedes lay slowly dying in a cold cell. I’ve never felt so helpless. All I could do was give the nuns enough coin to ensure she was as comfortable as possible. I visited her daily. I sat there, staring at the face of a woman I hardly knew but who’d actually borne me a child...’ Chastity gripped his hands as she spied tears gathering in the corner of his eyes.
‘I told her how I would look after our daughter. Described in detail the life she would have. I didn’t really believe she could hear me, but then, one day, she gripped my jacket and pulled me closer to her, trying to tell me something.’
