"Incognito" - читать интересную книгу автора (Allain Suzanne)

Chapter Twelve

Marcus had rushed to the Tudor Arms, where he had asked to speak to the landlord of the establishment. The landlord was helpful enough, and agreed that it was common knowledge that the Hawkhurst Gang had used a tunnel that was supposed to end at his establishment, but he had never seen any evidence of such a tunnel.

“Believe me, your honor, if there was such a thing, I would know it. Know every square inch of this place, I do.”

Marcus thanked him, but asked him if he could perform his own investigation, just the same. The landlord agreed, and Marcus asked to be directed to the basement. He reasoned that as the tunnel ran underground, it was likely to end below ground, as well. He took a lamp and examined each wall in the basement. His first time around he could find nothing, and was worried he was wasting precious time on a wild-goose chase. He asked the landlord, who had been observing him in silence, if the basement ran the entire length of the building.

The landlord answered in the affirmative, and watched in puzzlement as Marcus began to measure off the distance of one side of the room by placing one foot in front of the other and counting. He then asked for the quickest way out of the building and began measuring the outside wall in the same manner. When he was finished, he looked at the landlord in triumph.

“Even allowing for the width of the outside walls, there’s still a good ten-foot difference between the length of your basement and the length of the building.”

The landlord proclaimed his astonishment and directed some of the servants to assist Marcus in investigating the walls of the basement. It was not long before someone noticed an irregularity in one wall, and Marcus drew closer to investigate. It looked as if someone had applied stucco over the stone wall in this one section. Marcus asked for a knife, and began to chip away at the stucco. After a few minutes, he had chipped away about a square inch or so, and saw that there was wood beneath. “I believe, gentleman,” he told his audience, who were waiting to hear the results of his investigation, “we have found a door.”

Marcus asked if they had anything they could use as a battering ram. There was a long log in the woodshed that had not yet been cut up for firewood that was found to suit this purpose. Marcus organized the two servants who looked the strongest to begin battering down the door. After just two tries they were successful, and the door gave way, the log flying through with the two men dragged along behind.

Inside the room, all was in chaos. Alexander had dropped the highwayman and his pistol, grabbing Emily and pulling her out of the way of the log. The highwayman, seeing his chance for escape, ran into the tunnel that led to the stable. But Marcus, who had entered the room by this time, managed to grab him by the back of his coat and hold him for the few seconds necessary until the other men came through the broken wall and assisted him in dragging the highwayman back into the room. Then they tied his hands behind him, with the same length of rope that had just recently been around Emily’s wrists. The men who had formed part of the battering ram were dazed, bruised, and a little scratched, but otherwise all right, and Marcus promised them a guinea and a pint for their assistance in catching a traitor to the crown.

Emily was crying in Alexander’s arms, hardly able to believe her ordeal was over. Alexander held her tightly against his chest, telling her to hush, and gently smoothing her hair back from her face. He kept seeing in his mind her expression as the highwayman held her captive in his arms, and he tightened his hold until Emily was in more danger from suffocation from him than she had been in the tunnel.

The landlord approached them, to offer Emily a room for the night and ask if he should send for the doctor.

“No. No, thank you. I want to go home,” Emily said, disengaging herself from Alexander’s embrace and attempting to compose herself.

“Emily, it is nearly three in the morning, and you have sustained a blow to the head. I really think you should stay here,” Alexander told her.

“I just want to go home,” she replied, looking up at him through eyes that shone with tears, about to lose her thin grip on her composure. Alexander sighed, and told the landlord he would see the lady home, but asked him if he could make arrangements for a chaise.

As Alexander and Emily were leaving, Marcus stopped them to ask Emily if she was all right. She thanked him for his concern, but told him that Alexander had arrived just in time, leaving Marcus to wonder that she gave all the credit to Alexander when it was he who had knocked down a wall to come to her rescue.

Alexander took a moment to tell Sir Marcus what he had overheard the highwayman tell Emily about Lord Cecil Burke. Marcus thanked him, happy to have the information he needed without having to interrogate the man himself.

The ride back to Smithfield House was accomplished in near silence. Emily was thinking that, since she now knew Alexander was not the highwayman, a renewal of his addresses would not be looked down upon. Alexander was remembering that she had told the highwayman she was engaged to a marquess, and wondered then why she had thrown herself into his arms instead of Marcus’s. Of course, he may have been the one to initiate the embrace; everything had happened so fast he could not recall exactly.

As he was not aware that Emily had suspected him of being a criminal, nothing had changed in his mind. Emily had refused him. As hard as it was for him to believe, she did not really love him. Now that the highwayman had been captured, there was no reason for him to persist in his charade. The truth could be told, and he could leave Stonehurst and return to London. That thought brought him little pleasure. The only thought that pleased him in the least was the fact that Emily was bound to bitterly regret her choice when she discovered who he actually was.

It was after three in the morning when Emily finally returned home, to everyone’s shock and dismay. Her mother was more shocked than anyone, as her daughter had returned in company with a lone gentleman, which meant her reputation was in shreds.

Emily, who wanted nothing more than to go upstairs, wash her mouth out with strong soap, and sink into an exhausted slumber, was forced to meet her mother and sister in the drawing room and try to answer their multitude of questions. She was very thankful when Alexander put an end to the barrage by telling them simply, “She was abducted by a highwayman, but, Sir Ma—, that is, Lord Wesleigh and I were able to recover her before any damage was done. Now, I am sure she would like nothing more than to have a good rest, after which she will be able to give more intelligent replies to your request for information. I will return tomorrow afternoon to provide any more explanations you may require.”

Lady Smithfield, though bursting with questions, had to be satisfied for the nonce, and Emily whispered her gratitude to Alexander before turning to leave. She was struck by a sudden thought, and turned back to Alexander, “My horse,” she said, so tired it came out as barely a whisper.

“Not to worry. I am on my way to collect the horses now.”

Emily nodded, too tired to thank him, and turned to walk up the stairs to her bedchamber.

It was almost noon before she awoke the next day, and at first she could not imagine why her jaw ached so. Then the activities of the previous evening returned to her with a rush, and she closed her eyes again, trying to take them all in. She had been abducted by a highwayman, but Alexander had saved her, and as he was not the highwayman himself, she was actually in a better humor than she had been in four-and-twenty hours earlier.

She quickly washed and dressed, and, as she was finishing, Lydia entered her chamber.

“Emily! You are awake! I am so glad. Mama just sent me to awaken you. How are you feeling?”

“My jaw aches a little, but other than that I am remarkably well.”

Lydia took a closer look at Emily’s face. She and her mother had not seen Emily’s injury when she was brought home, and she was shocked by the black-and-blue mark on Emily’s cheek. “Oh, Emily! You poor thing, it must have been perfectly dreadful,” Lydia exclaimed sympathetically.

“It was, and I am very relieved the whole thing is over. If Mr. Williams had not come, I would be unfortunate indeed,” Emily said with a shudder.

“But, Emily, none of us can work out how it is the highwayman abducted you. Surely he did not come to the house.”

“No, he did not. I behaved very stupidly, I am sorry to say.”

“Emily, you did not agree to meet him clandestinely!”

“No, no, of course not. I am not that stupid. However, I rode out to the Rye Road and hid in the bushes, in the hopes of observing who the highwayman was. I thought perhaps it was someone I was acquainted with, in which case I could inform the authorities. Unfortunately, the highwayman discovered my hiding place and rendered me unconscious. Mr. Williams and Lord Wesleigh heard me scream and followed us until they had an opportunity to rescue me.”

“But I still do not understand. How could Mr. Williams and Lord Wesleigh have heard you scream? You do not mean that they were at the Rye Road as well?”

“Yes, that is how I arrived there. I followed them.”

“You followed them? But why? I thought you went to observe the highwayman,” Lydia asked, more confused than ever.

“I did, but it all started when I saw Williams and Wesleigh leave the house, and that is what gave me the idea of going also.” Emily knew her jumbled explanation was hardly convincing, but she did not want to admit that she had followed the men because she had believed Williams was the highwayman. Lydia was forced to be content with this explanation, such as it was, and Emily left her to go downstairs and have a late breakfast.

While she was eating, her jaw aching with every bite, her mother came into the room to tell her to hurry, that the duke, Lord Wesleigh, Mr. Williams, and Mr. Sedgewick all awaited her in the drawing room. Emily was not anxious to meet that particular group of gentleman, nor was she at all eager to answer the many questions that were sure to be asked, but she could not see that she had any other choice than to obey her mother’s dictum.

Her eyes flew to Alexander’s as soon as she entered the room, but it was the duke who, upon seeing her, immediately came to greet her.

“My dear girl,” he told her, taking her hand and patting it as he spoke to her. “I am so pleased that you suffered no ill consequences from your misadventure.”

Emily thanked him for his kindness, and went to sit beside Lydia. She was very embarrassed by his sympathy, as she had begun to think of her actions as those of an undisciplined hoyden. She hated to think what her mother would have to say on the subject, and made herself as inconspicuous as possible on the sofa, hoping no one would ask her why she had behaved in so reckless a manner.

Lady Smithfield begged the gentlemen to be seated, and when they were, the duke said he had an announcement to make. Lydia, whose own troubles loomed larger in her mind than anything else, was sure it was to be an announcement of her betrothal to the marquess. Before the duke could make his announcement, she stated in a clear voice that only trembled slightly that she was prepared to do her duty.

While the rest of the party looked at her in surprise, the duke and his son wondering what in the world the girl was blathering on about, Sir Marcus rightly guessed her meaning. “You look like Joan of Arc about to be burned alive at the stake. Such martyrdom is not necessary, my girl. I would as lief marry my housekeeper as you.”

Lady Smithfield looked quite offended at this plain speaking, and seemed as if she might object, turning to the duke for support. Before she could say anything, however, Sedgewick confronted Sir Marcus, righteous indignation clearly written on his face.

“You, sir, are a fool, to esteem so high an honor so lightly. Why, if I were in your position, I would thank God every day for giving me the opportunity to just be in Miss Smithfield’s presence, regardless of whether or not she ever learned to return my affections.”

“What noble sentiments! Sir, you put me to the blush,” Lydia stated, a slight smile appearing as she addressed him.

“Miss Smithfield, the sentiments I expressed are totally sincere. If only I could say to you all that is in my heart.”

“I wish you could as well.” Lydia and Sedgewick stared at each other mournfully, their audience forgotten.

“Why can he not?” Emily interceded, startling the two young lovers, who jumped in surprise.

“What?” Sedgewick asked.

“Why can’t you tell Lydia what is in your heart? What is preventing you?”

Sedgewick was very obviously put out by Emily’s interference in an important scene between him and Lydia. “It is quite obvious what prevents me. She is betrothed to another.”

“That is correct,” Lady Smithfield interjected. She had been watching the spectacle before her with dismay, unable to believe all her hopes and dreams were being dashed to pieces. Her eldest daughter, who had always done what was expected of her, was apparently contemplating throwing herself away on a vicar when she might marry the heir to a dukedom. “Lydia is betrothed to this gentleman, and the announcement is to be made later this month.” She gestured toward Marcus, before looking to the duke for confirmation of her statement.

The duke cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable. “Yes, well, perhaps the announcement I was about to make will help clear matters up a little.” There was a long pause as the duke collected his thoughts, and all in the room turned to look at him expectantly. “As you all know, the highwayman that had been causing such terror in the neighborhood was apprehended last night. What most of you do not know is that he was also involved in espionage, spying for the French. My son and his friend, Sir Marcus Reddings, were forced to assume another identity in order to help apprehend the traitor. Unfortunately, this meant that we had to deceive you all, as well. For that I am truly sorry. The gentleman who you have assumed to be my son, Lord Wesleigh, is in actuality, Sir Marcus Reddings. And the gentleman that has introduced himself to you as Mr. Alexander Williams, is my son, Lord Wesleigh.”

There was a shocked silence as all in the room attempted to digest these words. When they had, their reactions were so diverse and unexpected as to be comical.

Lady Smithfield was quite disappointed in losing Sir Marcus as a son-in-law. When he stood next to his friend, arrayed in such vibrant colors, with his golden curls tousled and the jewel in his cravat catching the sunlight, she felt that the true Lord Wesleigh paled into insignificance beside him. However, as it was obvious Lydia did not care for Sir Marcus, maybe the match had a chance of proceeding with a different groom.

Lydia was completely thrown by the announcement. As Sir Marcus had appeared in all her musings as the monster intent on tearing her from the arms of her true love, it was disconcerting, to say the least, to discover he had never had such an intention. And as she had noticed Lord Wesleigh, in his role as curate, had paid far greater attention to Emily than herself, she was totally at a loss to know how to proceed. She felt as an actress would were she to walk out on stage to discover the cast was performing in a play to which she had not learned the lines.

Emily, whom Alexander was observing intently to gauge her reaction, was simply horrified. Her first thought was that she had boasted to this man that she intended to marry him for his title and his fortune. She was thoroughly embarrassed, and wanted nothing more than to run from the room and pursue her thoughts in solitude. Her next thought was that he had asked her to marry him, and she had refused, and he would never believe now that she did so because she thought him to be a highwayman. He would, of course, think it was because she was more concerned about rank and fortune than mutual love and esteem. Oh, why had she not told him her suspicions last night in the carriage! Now it was too late, as he would never renew his addresses to a female he suspected would marry him merely for the sake of his money. She had to use all the self-control in her possession to school her features into an appearance of calmness, as she was conscious that she must maintain her composure so that no one in the room would suspect anything was amiss.

Alexander was unable to tell what Emily was thinking. Her face, expressive as ever, had registered shock, maybe even embarrassment, but she had only looked once in his direction, and in that moment, it seemed to him her eyes were filled with pain. She had looked away almost at once, and now would not glance his way, gazing intently down at her hands instead, which were folded in her lap.

After allowing the shock of his first bit of news to subside, the duke continued. “Another happy result of the masquerade was the discovery that Miss Smithfield appears to have formed a prior attachment which, of course, would nullify any match between her and my son. I am sure that her mother and I never had any intention of causing unhappiness when we fostered the idea of an engagement between Miss Smithfield and Lord Wesleigh. On the contrary, we only want the happiness and contentment of our children, and of course that could only be found by marrying where your heart leads you.”

Lady Smithfield heard the second announcement with far more shock than she had the first. She would be a laughingstock. All of her dreams, her plans for her daughter, had come to nothing. Her beautiful daughter, the pride of her mother, was to marry a vicar. How Lady Abernathy would crow. But then Lady Smithfield happened to look at her daughter. Lydia had at first been sitting in stunned disbelief, but soon afterward an expression of such sweet happiness transformed her face she was more beautiful than she had ever been. Certainly, when Lady Smithfield compared her current expression with what it had been the past week or so, it was obvious that she had not been looking out for her daughter’s best interests. And Sedgewick was a handsome fellow, she thought, looking him over critically. She really did prefer fair-haired gentlemen. Perhaps Sir Marcus might be persuaded to give Sedgewick the name of his tailor . . .

After a few minutes, Lady Smithfield was so reconciled to the match that she persuaded Lydia and Sedgewick to retire to the morning room, where they might enjoy some privacy from the rest of the group. She also began to think of asking the duke when the living at Silverden, his country estate, would be available, for that was a far more prestigious living than the one there in Stonehurst, and he might be persuaded to give it to Sedgewick. When she finally did get the opportunity to ask him, she was quite disappointed to hear that the current occupant was in robust health, and only forty years of age at the very most.

When Lydia and Sedgewick left the room, Emily felt she, too, could leave without occasioning any comment, and she soon took her leave of the gentlemen, murmuring something about some chore she had to perform.

It was obvious to Alexander that Emily was laboring under some strong emotion, but, as he was convinced it was no more than her regret in losing out on his fortune, he was not too sympathetic. He would allow her to suffer a little, as he had suffered by her refusal, but, in the back of his mind, he felt he would marry her in the end. He soon took his leave, and, when Lady Smithfield issued him an invitation to stay, he thanked her but told her he was quite comfortable with Sedgewick. Lady Smithfield was somewhat relieved by his refusal, as her small house was almost filled to capacity with her current guests and their retinue of servants. Sir Marcus, on the other hand, was happy to agree to an extended stay, at least until after the Abernathys’ ball, which he had every expectation of being invited to once he paid a call at Rothergate. He soon took his leave as well, mentioning that he had to travel to London immediately, but he would be returning the next day. His departure left the duke and Lady Smithfield by themselves.

“Well. It was quite a morning for surprises,” said Lady Smithfield.

“Yes, indeed,” the duke agreed. “I hope you were not discomposed by the announcements.”

“Well, I must admit, I was a little peeved just at first. I daresay it slipped your mind, but you assured me only yesterday that your son was in love with my daughter.”

“And so he is,” the duke said affably.

Lady Smithfield looked at him in wonder, thinking perhaps he was as mad as old King George. “You just made an announcement to the opposite.”

“Lady Smithfield,” the duke said, quite gently, “you do, I believe, have two daughters?”

It took Lady Smithfield a moment to grasp the significance of this statement, and, when she had, she was beside herself. “My dear duke, you mean he loves Emily? Why, I never once suspected. But, then, she was not herself yesterday, and I did wonder when you said that about young girls in love, with whom Emily could be in love. Oh, my, I cannot take it in. Both my daughters married! And I will no longer have to fear what Lady Abernathy has to say. As if your son could be the least interested in that cold niece of hers! I knew it was a falsehood from the very start.” Lady Smithfield’s exclamations and rhapsodizing went on for a good five minutes, until the duke interrupted her to tell her there was nothing settled as of yet, and she was not to mention it to Emily, or anyone else.

“Not mention it? What do you mean?”

“Well, my son had this notion of testing her love for him, and so proposed to her while he was still in the guise of a curate. Emily refused, for whatever reason, but now he’s convinced she acted from mercenary motives. I think it will take him a little while to cool off and approach her again.”

Lady Smithfield could not quite comprehend what the duke was saying. Of course Emily had refused a curate. She was surprised her daughter had acted with such good sense. It was unfortunate, of course, that the young man had later turned out to be a marquess, but Emily could not have known such a thing at the time. Why Lord Wesleigh would hold such a thing against her daughter was something she could not understand. However, the duke reminded her that she had promised to let the young couple pursue their courtship without interference, so she agreed to be patient for a little while longer.