“Charles . . .” His voice caught.
“It doesn’t matter.” She went limp in his arms, the exhaustion from the past few hours—of weeks past no doubt—seeming to drain her of all sense. “Nothing matters anymore but that you have captured me again, my lord, though surely I do but dream you now.”
He could feel her breaths slow, knew well the cadence of her sleep, and hugged her to him, relishing this brief chance to possess her before he must give her up and fight all over again to win her, this time, for good.
Wells had carried a sleeping Miss Merrinan into the Earl of Denbigh’s townhouse, his finger pressed to his lips so that no one wake her. Inside, he had deposited her gently upon a bed, allowing a maid to tend her. Then, once downstairs, he was ushered into the parlor and met by the Earl and Countess, both of whom wore expressions of grim disbelief. He asked for a drink, was given a stiff one, and proceeded to seat himself inone of their uncomfortable wingbacks in order to spin them a believable yarn.
“Lord and Lady Enright, my apologies for the late hour and unusual manner in which I have just delivered your granddaughter, but I have only just located and removed her from deplorable living conditions the likes of which I’ll forbear divulging for fear you might not withstand the horror.”
The Countess grew frightfully pale at this.
“I can assure you Miss Merrinan’s honor remains intact, but barely so, for the hands into which she fell would surely have ruined her had I not arrived when I did. Her appearance bears testament to this fact, though I am certain you will do your utmost in the coming days to comfort and outfit her respectably.”
He met the Earl’s panicked gaze with stern reproof. “I needn’t remind you both that it is in no small part your own neglect of your granddaughter which led to her deplorable circumstances. The poor girl had neither the means nor connections anymore in London to ensure her safety, and I find it inconceivable that her own family should have allowed such disregard to continue these ten years past, resulting in the state I found her in tonight. I expect that in the coming days you will do everythingwithin your power to repair the harm done her, and that you will not,I repeat, will noteverspeak to her about the events leading up to this night. As I declared before, I have every intention of marrying Miss Merrinan and will call upon her daily not only to court her properly, but to ensure she is treated with the respect and deference due a daughter of the Enright line.”
He leveled both gaze and words at the Earl and Countess. “For if I find your treatment of her anything butimpeccable,I will personally see to it that your own reputations, and that of every Enright family member save the Merrinans, be destroyed. Have I made myself clear?” He continued to stare at them both,satisfied by their cowed expressions to conclude his message had been received.
“My lord, I believe we understand you perfectly.” The Earl bowed his head in deference. “We are, of course, deeply aggrieved by the hardship our granddaughter has endured.”
Wells merely downed his glass and got up. “Miss Merrinan can expect me tomorrow at three.” And with that, he showed himself out.
Once back inside the carriage, he expelled a long breath, allowing himself to hope that all he’d set in motion would now pay off. Come morning he would pen several letters, not least of which would be to inform Eleanor Merrinan that her sister had been found and, God willing, would now be kept safe.
Ellie tore into the letter from London.
Miss Eleanor,
It is with great relief that I report your sister safely delivered to your grandparents, the Earl and Countess of Denbigh. By now you should have received word from them, I hope, expressing remorse at having denied you these many years past. I realize you may well have no desire to accept a reconciliation, but would urge you to at least resume contact while Charles remains in their care. I could find no other solution than to restore her to her kin here in London, since my aim is to woo her now with the respect she rightly deserves. Charles will either wed me willingly, or I shall die trying; I can only pray your sister takes mercy on me.
“Father!” Eleanor shouted from the kitchen. “He’s found Charles! Lord Wellesley has found Charles and means to marryher! Oh thank God. Thank God he’s found her and she’s all right.”
She hurriedly scanned the rest of his letter.
You may write directly to her at the Enright address, as I am sure she will have a word or two to share regarding how I found her in London. And I would ask you take what she reports with a grain of salt, Eleanor, for the truth shall come out with time, and, I hope, explain my actions. Please know that my intentions towards your sister remain honorable. If only she would believe me in this.
It is my heart’s desire to return to Cumberland with Charles my bride, in as short a time as possible, though I cannot predict how long it will take your sister to relent, if ever. I have written to Cuthbert that he join me post haste. He is to be knighted and made my squire, so it is in your interest, Eleanor, to ensure John arrives in London as quickly as possible, wearing one of my spare suits, that beard of his trimmed. I insist on it.
May God keep you and your father in good health.
Your humble servant, Roland Wellesley
Eleanor sat down again to reread the letter, smiling and crying at his lordship’s words. She didn’t care two shakes about her grandparents, but to know Charles was fed and housed in a decent part of London . . . She shuddered to imagine where Lord Wellesley had found her sister. There would be much to discuss when she saw Charles again. Much indeed.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Charles awoke for the first time in a long time rested. She relaxed into the comfortable bed before wrapping herself into the fresh-smelling sheets, burrowing her head deeper into the soft down pillow. She lay there a moment longer before she stretched luxuriously, then righted herself, heart thudding.
She was suddenly all-too-conscious of her strange environs.
Her body tensed as she scanned the room to ensure she was alone, then slipped from the bed, noting she wore a long cotton night-rail, a mostpropercotton night-rail buttoned to her neck. She tiptoed to the door and, finding it open, turned the knob to peer down both ends of a dim, empty hall. Just as quickly she returned to the room to look for clothes. Finding none, not even a robe, she grabbed a thick crystal vase from a table and again slipped out the door, gliding down the hall as silently as possible in her bare feet. Wherever she was, she needed to find clothes before she could make her escape. She only prayed no one would see her.
As she clutched the weight of the crystal in her fist, it occurred to her she’d been here before. Not in this hallway but in this very same position: awaking in a strange bed without her clothes. Was she forever destined to?—?
Out of nowhere stepped a smart-looking maid in a starched cap and apron. She looked a far cry from the Abbey’s staff.
“Why, miss, I were about t’ check on yer!” the girl rushed to speak. “Come back at once, please, an’ let me assist. Lady Enright’s lookin’ for a suitable dress for yer, an’ Cook’s set aside breakfast too.” The girl took Charles by the arm to begin marching her back towards the room.
She was so shocked by this, she allowed herself to be led.
