Page 56

‘Turning oneself out in a matter of minutes is one of the advantages of my army training.’ His smile was rueful then disappeared as he became business-like. ‘You said a matter of life and death propelled you here, Miss Appleby. I’m glad to see you very much alive and well. To what emergency do I owe this unconscionably early wakening?’

‘It’s Charlotte. She’s gone, early this morning. Her maid thinks she may have been persuaded under some duress to elope with Captain Ormonde.’

The effect of her words on him was electric. Colour flared into his cheeks and he strode to the wall as if to punch it. He spoke through gritted teeth. ‘That devil-dog, Ormonde! He’s a scape-gallows who deserves nothing less than death. My poor little Charlotte.’ He slammed out of the room, calling for his groom and valet. ‘Saddle up my fast chaise! Pack my portmanteau for one night. Ten minutes is all you have!’

When his lordship returned to the room, his dark hair was standing up, his hands raking through it as if this might ease his fury. He glanced at Amy, and Leonora knew in the heat of his distress he was about to say something he did not want a servant to hear, and so she asked Amy to wait for her in the hall. Lord Rokeby stood against the fireplace. Almost to himself he said, ‘Secrets are always better out. What damage they do.’ He turned to look at Leonora, his face anguished. ‘This is my burden of guilt. Charlotte is my child. For the first time in eighteen years I utter these words which quite confound me. To protect me from our father’s wrath, my brother took responsibility for my indiscretion, and he was sent away to war as punishment.’

Leonora felt physically rocked by this latest revelation and sank back on her chair, but Lord Rokeby was so seized with remorse he barely noticed, and continued in a rapid low voice, ‘Charles rightfully should have stayed at the Abbey and husbanded the estate. He was the heir and I the expendable one. I was the wild and reckless son, and I should have paid the price. But he stepped forward to protect me, as he always had. It was he who went to the Peninsula instead of me. To be killed on foreign soil.’ His voice had dropped with the terrible weight of it. He cast an intense look at Leonora. ‘How can I live with this guilt and grief? How can I usurp his destiny and live the life that should have been his?’

Leonora said softly, ‘But you have been given by him the gift of a life.’ He nodded. ‘And Charlotte deserved the truth about her father.’

Alistair Rokeby sighed, ‘I know, I’ve only just realised this now. Only now I’m overwhelmed with the realisation she is my daughter. When you live a lie for so long it becomes a kind of truth.’

‘And what about her mother’s maternal feelings too?’

He looked startled. ‘Have you seen her?’ When Leonora nodded, he asked, ‘Is she well?’

‘She is, but she is afraid to tell Charlotte and wants me to, when we find her.’

He shook his head in sorrow. ‘We were all so young, she and I were but sixteen, and Charles and I swore to take the truth to our graves. Charlotte’s mother agreed to it too. I’m afraid we did not think beyond safeguarding the child’s happiness and welfare by placing her with the Reverend and his wife.’

‘Well, she could not have been more loved, even while she longed to know something of her family.’

‘I know. Now at last I can take up my role as Charlotte’s father. But first I have to find her.’ He leapt up and strode for the door, followed by Achille. He turned back. ‘Miss Appleby, I am grateful to you for bringing your suspicions to me. It’s a full moon tonight and I will take advantage of that. For find my daughter I must!’

As he saw Leonora and Amy to the door, his coachman and chaise drew up, harnessed to a team of four gleaming bays. Riding towards them was a large man on a very large horse. ‘Mr Lockwood!’ Leonora called out.

‘Miss Appleby, good morning. Titan demands his exercise, but what are you doing out so early?’

Leonora knew that Lord Rokeby had returned to the house to collect his portmanteau. She took the reins of George Lockwood’s horse, looked up into his face and said quietly, ‘I’m afraid Charlotte left with Captain Ormonde, possibly under some duress, probably heading for the Scottish border.’ She spoke quietly and with feeling.

Mr Lockwood’s usually benign face turned thunderous. He jumped down from his horse and stood close to Leonora so he could speak without the whole Square hearing. His words burst out of him in a ferocious whisper. ‘That scoundrel! I always knew he was a white-livered whipster, a sneaking hell-born rake. My darling Miss Blythe! I must rescue her. How many hours have they been gone?’

Lord Rokeby emerged from his house and greeted George Lockwood with a brusque tip of his hat. Lockwood immediately understood that at this early hour, with a fully harnessed team of four, the Earl would be in pursuit of his niece. ‘Sir, I wish to help catch this hellhound. I think we could manage quite well together, you with the carriage to bring Miss Blythe home, while I with a fast horse can travel more quickly.’

Lord Rokeby frowned. He always preferred to act alone but after a few moments’ thought, agreed it might be a good plan and make it possible they could catch up with them before dark. ‘They have perhaps three hours’ advantage on us but due to Ormonde’s embarrassed finances, they are probably travelling by hired chaise, changing mere hacks at the posting inns.’

‘My horse is strong and powerful with good stamina, but we’ll both need to change horses for the journey.’

Lord Rokeby had already worked out their route. ‘Ormonde is bound to take the quickest road, the Great North. I have my own horses stabled at Barnet, Hatfield, Baldock. I doubt they can get farther than Alconbury today, where I wager they’ll spend the night. We have to catch them there.’

‘By God, we will. I don’t want that wonderful sweet being in his hands for even one night!’ George Lockwood’s voice was quivering with outrage and emotion.

Lord Rokeby sought to console him. ‘I think Ormonde’s treachery is vile enough with his activities during the war. But I hope, when it comes to well-born women, he remembers he is still a gentleman.’

‘You have more faith than I, my lord. What dastardly man as he could resist the charms of Miss Blythe if she were in his power?’

Alistair Rokeby was impatient to begin the journey. ‘We must go. I’ll see you at The George in Barnet. There’s a fine hunter there for you and a new team for me.’ As he climbed into his chaise, Leonora noticed he had tucked a pistol into the waistband of his breeches. Exhausted, anxious, her nerves strung out, she was reminded of Lord Rokeby’s competence and of how dangerous he could be, and a thrill ran through her veins.

11

THE WORK OF HEROES

As the journey wore on, Charlotte’s confidence and courage began to seep away. The coach was nothing like as comfortable as the Rokeby one she and Leonora had used for their trip to London. It was cold and the jerky swaying on rusty springs made her queasy. As the light faded, there was little interest in gazing out on the passing countryside and market towns they travelled through. At the coaching inns where they stopped to change horses, there was some excitement in watching the variety of travellers as they bustled about their business, from the poorest country folk with sacks draped over their coats for warmth to the richest and most exquisitely dressed on their way between country estate and London town house.

She had even lost interest in her book. She closed it and it lay heavy in her lap. Captain Ormonde turned his head and watched her. ‘It’s not too long now before we stop for the night.’ He shifted to face her. ‘As I said, Miss Blythe, I will treat you in a gentlemanly manner; I trust you will behave like the lady you are and not draw attention to us or attempt to run away. After all, I can ruin both your reputation and your father’s in one fell swoop.’

Before he revealed such implacable hostility towards the Earl of Rokeby and his good name, she had thought this brave soldier attractive, even rather distinguished. The idea of marrying him of her own free will had even occurred to her but he had since given up trying to charm her and no longer even gave her the benefit of his smile. Having made it obvious that he needed to marry an heiress to clear his debts and finance a profligate way of life, he offered now only his brooding narrow-eyed demeanour.