Love Lessons at Midnight (20 page)

She raced up the stairs and called out to Lorna, “Come with me!” Lorna hurriedly followed her into Grace’s quarters. Amber snatched a pen and a sheet of stationery from the escritoire and scrawled a street address. “Send word immediately to Mr. Boxer at this direction. There’s been a terrible carriage accident and he’s to return at once!” She shoved the paper into Lorna’s trembling hands.

As soon as the young woman rushed off to summon a boy to deliver the message, Amber gathered bandages, ointments, and other medical supplies from Grace’s cabinet, all the while praying that Mr. Abercrombie had been wrong about Bonnie. Already heartbroken over Rob and frantic with worry over Jeni, she simply could not lose another person she loved. Not her faithful young maid and not Grace.
Please, God, not either of them!

As an afterthought, she seized her LePage pistol and shoved it in a reticule before heading back downstairs. When she gathered up Mr. Abercrombie and Clifton, the three of them headed out the front door. Jonathan rode up with a second mount for his companion. Under their watchful eyes, Abercrombie’s driver assisted her into the open carriage and the five of them rode pell-mell down Alpha Road.

Two hours later Sergeant Major Boxer whipped his horse up Alpha Road. When he saw no signs of a carriage accident, he became alarmed. By the time he reached the house,
a frantic Grace was waiting at the front door, chalk-faced, wringing her hands. “Where is Lady Fantasia?” he asked, knowing the news would not be good.

“In the hands of the devil! Jonathan returned with a pistol ball in his shoulder. Clifton is dead. Amber was taken in by a charlatan who convinced her we’d been in a carriage accident. She and the men rushed into a trap. They were met by half a dozen armed ruffians. The charlatan just sat back while his driver disarmed Amber. At the same time, Clifton and Jonathan were shot.”

“You know for certain who did it?” Boxer asked grimly.

“Jonathan was left for dead and only regained consciousness as they rode away, but he heard one name—Hull!”

Boxer’s ruddy face turned gray. “Have you sent for him?”

Rob stood in his office with the message crumpled in one fist. Stunned, he smoothed out the heavy velum and reread the spidery writing, obviously scrawled in terrified haste:

M’lord,

Amber has been kidnapped. When her captors deliver her to Wolf’s Gate in Northumberland, she will die a slow and horrible death at the hands of the Marquess of Eastham, her husband.

G

Some pieces of the puzzle that was Lady Fantasia now fell into place. She was the wife of that brutal old bastard Wolverton! Small wonder she had run away and now hid her face. Stuffing the missive into his pocket, he yelled for Settles. “Send for Sergeant Coulter and his men at once! Tell them to prepare for a long, hard ride and arm for a fight.”

“I shall lay out riding clothes as soon as I have done, m’lord,” the butler said, scurrying from the room.

The earl moved quickly to the cabinet where he kept his weapons. They would require all the firepower they could muster to rescue Amber from the legendary lair of a former member of the Hellfire Club!

Within the hour Rob and Coulter, along with six former dragoons from his old command, rode furiously down Alpha Road. He told the men only that one of the ladies who had helped them rescue the children had been kidnapped by the “Mad Marquess,” and would die if they did not reach her in time. No one questioned him.

When they reached Grace’s place, he had the men follow him upstairs. The moment he strode into the room, he could see from Grace’s and Boxer’s haggard faces that the situation was dire. She gave them a quick outline of the abduction and the sergeant major explained Hull’s destination, speculating that only a driver and possibly one guard might accompany him. Then Grace asked the earl to follow her into her office so they could speak privately for a moment.

As soon as they were alone, she said, “There is one thing you must know. Since Amber fled Wolverton, no man has touched her—until you.” Before he could frame a reply to the terse statement, she went on to describe Jenette’s mission and where they could find her when they reached their destination.

“I always suspected she was more than a lady’s companion,” Rob replied, trying to absorb everything.

“She is a lady, the sole survivor of a noble family who died at the hands of Napoleon. She eluded Foche’s secret police and worked as a spy for His Majesty’s government during the war. Now, let us rejoin the others.”

“We will save her,” Rob said as he opened the door for her.

Grace placed her hand on his arm and said softly, “Thank you, m’lord.”

Rob swallowed hard, trusting himself only to nod as they rejoined the anxious group of veterans.

Boxer, looking grim-faced and armed to the teeth, nodded to the earl, then exchanged a quick glance of understanding with Grace. Both were relieved that the earl had come and brought seasoned campaigners with him. They would require all the help they could muster. “We have to ride fast, m’lord. I’ve picked the best mounts from our stables, an extra for each man.”

“I’ve done the same with a few more to spare,” Rob replied as Boxer nodded his approval. “Have you a map of the countryside between here and Northumberland?”

“Yes,” Grace replied, standing over Amber’s big desk where she unrolled a large piece of paper. Rob, Boxer, and the rest of the men crowded around to study the map. “Amber marked the route to show Jenette before her first journey. She did not require it for the second trip.”

“A good spy always possesses an excellent memory,” Rob said as he traced the carriage route. “They will keep her concealed in a carriage until they reach…” He looked down at the map, then pointed to a less populated area disturbingly close to Eastham’s lair. “Until here, they will travel fastest by remaining on the coaching roads.”

“Can you stop them before they reach Wolf’s Gate?” Grace asked hoarsely.

Rob studied the location of the small village Amber had circled in Northumberland, only a few miles from Eastham’s fortress. “I dislike our chances since they are well over four hours ahead of us at the least. We would be wise to devise a plan to infiltrate his castle.”

“Here is Jenette’s direction. ′Tis on a hill midway between the village and Wolf’s Gate. You cannot miss it,” Grace said, offering him a sheet of paper with the rental information on it. “She is familiar with that devil’s ghastly den.”

Rob accepted the paper and slipped it inside his shirt. “Good. She will be a formidable ally,” he said as he handed the map to Coulter.

As he led the men down the stairs and out the door, Grace clasped her hands and did something she had not done since her youth. She prayed.

Amber returned to consciousness slowly, the pounding in her head echoed by the pounding of horses’ hooves as they thundered down the road. The conveyance she was in rocked with every bump and turn, tossing her like a rag doll. She blinked and saw that she was in semidarkness. It was only when she tried to reach for the curtain to let in more light that she realized her hands and feet were bound.

“Ah, I see that you are returning to the living. For a bit there I feared the stupid driver had permanently damaged you and deprived me of a hefty reward for the return of Eastham’s runaway wife.”

Everything began to come back to her as sharp shards of pain lanced through her brain. She recognized the nasal voice and northern accent of Edgar Hull even before she could make out his form seated across from her in the dim light. “You ever were a stupid, greedy little weasel, Edgar. Eastham will not pay you. He will kill you,” she said, raising her hands to rub the knot on the side of her head.

“I think not,” he purred, “but he
will
kill you…after he has a bit of fun. I extracted a promise from him that I be allowed to watch.” Edgar Hull slouched in his seat, holding on to a coach strap to keep from being pummeled side to side in the small, lightweight carriage he had secured for a fast trip north. Amber tumbled right, left, forward, and back, bracing her legs so as not to fall into her dissipated captor’s arms.

“Mr. Abercrombie was quite convincing,” she said, trying
not to dwell on what lay in wait for her when she was delivered into the hands of Wolverton.

Hull gave an ugly laugh. “That ‘kindly gentleman’ was an actor from Drury Lane, paid enough for a good drunk. Cressy promised to see that he never sobers up to repeat what he witnessed.”

“Cressy?” she echoed.

“A runner in my employ,” he said smugly.

“You mean Wolverton’s employ, do you not? You apparently do not have enough of the ready to pay for a jacket that conceals your increasing girth.” She stared at his ill-fitting clothing with disdain.

“I was smart enough to bait the perfect trap for you,” he snapped. “Once your female companion disappeared and that interfering earl stopped his visits, that left only the old soldier. All I needed to do was wait until he left you unguarded and make up a tale about the old bawd and her servants being in a carriage wreck. I knew you would come rushing out,” he boasted. In fact, it had been Cresswel’s plan, but Hull would never admit it.

What a fool she had been! Half a dozen armed ruffians had burst onto the deserted road from a stand of trees only a short distance from the house and shot both of her men. Poor Clifton and Jonathan had died because of her reckless actions! Before she could reach the pistol in her reticule to aid them, the driver had turned around and struck her on the head. After that…her reticule! The pistol! Trying not to move suspiciously, Amber rubbed her head again, looking down. Had Hull found it, or was it still at her waist?

“If you’re hoping I overlooked that nasty little firearm in here,” he said, holding up her reticule with a sneer, “you hope in vain.” He had anticipated her carrying a good bit of extra blunt in it but was furious to find nothing more than the weapon.

“At least I shall have the satisfaction of seeing you die before I do,” she said to Hull.

He tsked at her. “Such venom. ′Tis I who have every right to wish you dead. I offered to marry you—”

“Even if I had been so foolish as to agree, my father would never have allowed me to wed a drunken sot such as you, turned out by your family for your wastrel ways.”

“There would have been no way to prevent his giving me a dowry for you once we’d eloped,” he replied angrily. “But no, you had to have your season, to look for some fancy toff in London! Well, I took care of that.”

“Yes, but I was sold to a man willing to pay for me, not given to one hip deep in dun territory,” she replied, curling her lip in contempt.

He raised his hand preparing to slap her, then lowered it. The marquess had been most explicit about having his “merchandise” delivered undamaged. The blow to her head was necessary, but he dared risk no further marks. Damn, he wanted her to pay for ruining his youthful schemes.

Amber had hoped she could bait him sufficiently so as to be able to wrest the reticule with her pistol from him in the pitching coach, but when he did not strike her, she could see that he had grown cunning over the years. Then he pulled a flask from his jacket pocket and took a swig. He always had been a drunk. Better to wait until his tongue loosened. Perhaps she could learn how many others were with him. With Hull out of the way, they might accept a bribe to release her.

She held fast to that thought. Grace would pay a fortune to have her returned safely. And that would keep Jeni from placing herself in danger if she learned Amber had been taken prisoner. At all costs, she had to keep Jeni from doing something rash!

But first, she must dispose of this evil worm who had plotted her downfall for the past decade. How ironic that he
never understood the truth about her relationship with her family. She pushed the ugly memories from her mind.

Unbidden, an image of Rob came to her. Would Grace send word to him? Would he come? A part of her hoped he would, but she quickly squelched the thought. That would mean he, too, would be in terrible danger. She must outwit Hull once more. She had accomplished it as a green girl—how much easier should it be for her now?

But he was the one who led you to ruin and Eastham!
No! The only way to remain sane was not to dwell on Lytton Wolverton.

Rob and the men sat around a small fire, resting their horses after the moon set that night. All were exhausted from the hard day’s ride. He calculated it would take another even longer one before they reached their destination. That meant they would only stop for an hour at a time, taking turns napping and eating cold biscuits and bacon from their packs.

“Rather like bein’ back in Spain, ain’t it, sir?” O’Keefe asked his captain between bites from the tough bread.

As he nodded agreement, Rob could see there was no relish in the Irishman’s remark. Every man here admired the lady who had been so kind to the children and clubbed Molly Chub over the head. He remembered Grace’s piercing eyes when she told him Amber had been with no man but him since fleeing Eastham. Did he believe her? Damned if he knew. Damned if he cared.

He was certain of only one thing. He loved Amber Leighigh.

There was no doubt of it from the moment he read Grace’s terrifying message. No matter what her past sins might or might not be, he was in love with Wolverton’s wife. But she would truly be a widow once he got his hands on that madman and wrung the life from him. As Boxer kicked out the
fire and they prepared to mount up, Rob bowed his head and did something he had not done since leaving England for the Peninsula.

He prayed.

Northumberland

By the time they reached the small village in the bleak, isolated hills, the small troop had ridden for nearly forty hours. They had taken only brief stops to rest and switch out their mounts, eat, and relieve themselves. Rob knew Amber’s captors would have been forced to do the same.

But scouting ahead, Boxer had reported back that they had money enough to pay for fresh horses at the public coaching stations along their way. Several of the hostlers remembered a small carriage with the curtains tightly closed in spite of yesterday’s inclement heat. The driver had been impatient and rude, cursing the stablemen for not moving fast enough. As nearly as they could tell, there had been no other riders accompanying the carriage. Hull had to be inside with Amber, keeping her quiet. Was he alone? There was no way to know.