“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 mightdisappear 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 inthe 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.
Chapter Twenty
Sedgwick Hall, Guildford, three weeks later
Prue’s father’s memorialdrew people from all walks of life, from the Prince Frederick, Duke of York to the tenant farmers and the stableboy. Mr. Wallace spoke eloquently, as did others, and to hear her father given the respect he deserved and talked of with such affection made Prue’s chest swell. Jack had accompanied her and Gramma, and she found his calm, masculine presence, as always, hugely supportive.
Her distant cousin, Mr. Richard Stanton, had now inherited the earldom and seemed a modest, sensible man in his mid-forties with blue eyes and a pleasant, tanned face from working outdoors. He admitted to some experience of running an estate, although on a smaller scale, and expressed interest in the modern methods recently employed, intimating he would like to learn more about her father’s ideas. It heartened Prue to hear it. Wishing to tell Jack about it, she found him engaged with the two men, the Duke of York, who was the Commander-in-Chief of the British army, and Lord Castlereagh, the Foreign Minister.
Roland Stanton’s name was not mentioned. He had been hanged, still protesting his innocence, a week ago, joined on the scaffold by Will Darby.
Jack came to her side. “We should go, sweetheart. Lady Aldridge grows tired.”
“Don’t tell Gramma that.” Prue laughed. “She would be highlyinsulted.”
They stood together as a footman assisted Gramma up the carriage steps.
“Tomorrow, I’ll get the license,” Jack said. “We can be married as soon as you and your great-grandmother wish.” He edged closer, his voice husky, his breath stirring the curl near her ear. “But make it soon, my love.”
The look in his eyes was a promise that set Prue’s heartbeat thumping and nervous excitement to build in the pit of her stomach. “I intend to,” she whispered.
