CHAPTER5
A FOOTMAN AND A HAT
Back at Baron Kravets’ townhouse
Elias cursed under his breath as he rushed up to the Kravets’ town coach. “Back to Weatherstone Manor,” he called up to Renner. “And hurry.”
The startled driver, who looked to be no older than seventeen, nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Before Elias had a chance to shut the coach door and be seated, the equipage jerked into motion. He cursed again as he settled into the shabby leather squabs, his nose wrinkling when he smelled the odors of cheroot smoke and unwashed bodies. For at least the tenth time that evening, he regretted having agreed to be part of Abraham Kravet’s plan to avenge his daughter’s honor.
Like most who read the gossip found in the pages ofThe Tattler, Kravets assumed the rake referred to asLord JWwas John “Jack” Kirkpatrick, Earl of Wilmington.
After reading the latest issue, which included an article describing a scandalous incident that took place during amusicaleat Worthington House, Kravets was convinced his daughter, Honoria, had been ruined by oneLord JW. He had been sure there could be no other young lady matching the article’s description but her.
As a means to see the earl was held responsible for his rakish behavior, Kravets set about planning his revenge—drug and abduct the man from an early Season entertainment, haul him to Kravets’ townhouse, wake him up with a right cross to his jaw, and inform him he was to marry Honoria by special license the following day.
Kravets still hadn’t decided if her dowry would be paid or not.
Honoria had yet to speak to her father. When he confronted her on the matter, she immediately turned into a watering pot and claimed she didn’t know the man who ravished her in an alcove at Worthington House. She didn’t even deny the event had occurred.
Her mother and Kravets’ baroness, Lady Margaret Kravets, was doing her best to claim that the young lady described in the news-sheet could not possibly be her daughter since Honoria had been with her at the time of the so-called ruination and that they had not even been in attendance at themusicale. “We weren’t there because we weren’t invited,” she told her husband.
As for those who had claimed to have seen the baroness at themusicale, she would tell them that Honoria wasn’t with her that evening but had stayed home complaining of a megrim.
Kravets wasn’t convinced.
Sure Honoria was protecting the identity of her lover, he had called upon his new friend and business partner Elias Turnbridge to help with his plan.
Not expecting the baron to concoct such an elaborate scheme involving a drugging and an abduction, Elias had agreed to go along with whatever Kravets planned. He only meant to appease the man because they were business partners. He feared the baron might pull out of funding his latest venture and force him to have to line up another investor.
Now Elias wished he had left town with the excuse that he had business in the country. Or, better yet, another country.
When the Kravets coach stuttered to a halt down the street from Weatherstone Manor, Elias was relieved to see a number of coaches still lined up along Park Lane. Stepping out of the equipage, he paused to examine the baron’s coat of arms on the door.
At first glance, he thought it looked like any other coat of arms. It was painted in gold. There was a shield. There were supporters. There was a crest. And across the bottom was a motto in Latin on an open-scroll banner.
He studied the details more closely before making his way to the next parked coach. He nearly stopped when he saw that the crest on its door had the motto at the top. The supporters were a pair of dragons.
When he passed the next coach, he lingered for a moment, pretending to adjust his cravat in the reflection from the coach window. That coat of arms had dogs as supporters and the motto was emblazoned at the bottom.
Coming upon the lanterns leading to the front door of Weatherstone Manor, Elias nearly bumped into a man who had just left the residence.
“Pardon, sir,” the younger man said, the style of his caped coat and top hat that of a driver. He seemed to stutter-step and do a double-take before continuing on his way to a coach parked farther down Park Lane.
Curious at the driver’s odd behavior, Elias lifted a hand to remove his hat and was reminded that he wore no hat.
No wonder the driver had given him such an odd look!
Elias hurried into the house and immediately came to a halt when he recognized his hat among the half-dozen a footman was rearranging on a shelf. When another footman turned from giving a coat to a departing guest, he said, “Yes, sir?”
“I’m here to collect my hat,” Elias said.
“Of course, sir. Must have been some game going on in the card parlor this evening.”
Relieved the footman hadn’t seen him come in by way of the front door, Elias merely shrugged. “No more than usual, I suppose,” he replied. “Tell me... have there been any reports of a gentleman being found in the wrong coach this evening?”
The footman blinked. “Sir?”
