Page 71 of Lady Charlotte and the Lending Library
“If you hurt the woman I love, I imagine I could be capable of anything.” He added roughly, “And if I should falter in my revenge, Lord Cecil will be more than willing to ensure you and your family suffer for your actions.”
The thrill of hearing Lord Ashford say he loved her was overshadowed by his threat towards Landry’s family. Ashford, dressed in full evening kit, stood tall, his arm raised, pointing his pistol unflinchingly at the cloaked man. At that moment, the marquess looked like he was capable of anything.
“The alliance gave me one job. By purchasing the property in Berkeley Square, you’ve given me a death sentence,” Landry replied after a few tense moments. His voice was not as calm as before. “What do I have to lose?”
“Your wife and daughter.” Cecil took a few steps forward. “Tell me who is behind the alliance. I can protect you. Get you somewhere safe.”
Landry’s laugh was high-pitched, maniacal. “You don’t understand. Nowhere is safe from these people.”
Afraid of what the man would do next, she glanced up in time to see Landry put the pistol under his chin and fire. Charlotte fell over and lay still, the acrid smell of the smoke from the fired gun drifting to her nostrils. She heard something heavy fall to the ground as the nearby horse whinnied in fear.
There was a rush of feet. She heard Lord Cecil speak to the cloaked man, but his words were unintelligible.
A hand touched her shoulder, and she flinched away.
“It’s me, Charlotte. It’s William. Let me get you to the carriage.”
Charlotte allowed her brother to help her from the ground. As she stood shaking, he wrestled with the rope binding her wrists. She kept her eyes down, away from where she thought Landry's body had fallen.
When her hands were finally free, William removed his jacket and placed it over her shoulders. He took her by the hand and slowly led her away along the Serpentine. Feeling slightly ill, she quickly averted her gaze from the body by the water.
After what seemed like forever trudging through the grass, they reached a plain black coach, the glow of its lanterns a welcome sight. William handed her into the carriage and then vaulted in, taking a seat beside her.
“There is no driver,” she said weakly as her body shivered more violently. “I didn’t see a driver.”
“You’re freezing. Give me your hands.” William took her cold hands in his, rubbing them roughly. “Lord Ashford will drive us home. He and Baron Harbury are our escorts. We will protect you.”
A hundred questions were running through her mind. How had Lord Ashford known she was at Hyde Park? What would happen to the cloaked man?
Charlotte was so very tired. If she could just close her eyes for a few minutes, she might remember all the questions she wanted to ask William.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ashford watched William carry Charlotte from the carriage through the mews at the rear of her parent’s townhouse in Hanover Square. He made to follow.
“She’s all right, my friend.” Nathaniel stood beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. “William said she merely fainted. Although she is cold and exhausted, her pulse is steady and strong. Our presence can only be a nuisance right now. William will send you word tomorrow about Lady Charlotte’s condition.”
The baron was right. He would go home and wait for word from William. And Cecil.
While William had helped Charlotte with her bound wrists, Cecil took custody of the cloaked man. Landry was dead, his head a ghastly sight. As Ashford and Nathaniel followed William to the carriage, Ashford examined the body by the Serpentine. The dead man was indeed Lord Meers. From the looks of it, he'd been drowned.
Once he was sure Charlotte was safely inside her home, Ashford drove Cecil’s carriage back to Grosvenor Square. Nathaniel decided to walk home. To regain his equilibrium, he’d said, and Ashford didn’t argue. It was well after two o’clock in the morning and several residents of the neighborhood were returning from evening entertainments. He would soon find out if his mother were home.
According to the footman on duty in the entry hall, the marchioness had already retired for the night.
Ashford replied, “Inform my valet I won’t need his services tonight. I will be in the library and wish not to be disturbed unless the matter is urgent.”
When he entered the library, he found Chloe lying by the cold hearth. He lit the fire after giving the dog several pats. Taking a seat on a plush settee, he kicked his dancing pumps from his feet and pulled off his wet stockings. His shoes and hose were caked with grass and mud and probably ruined. He reclined on the settee, silently apologizing to the maid who would have to clean the carpet under his shoes. Chloe jumped up next to him, settling beside his feet. She looked as tired as he felt.
His mind raced back over the events of the evening. Lord Meers must have been a member of the alliance. He was sure Cecil would search the viscount’s body and the green-cloaked man for the tell-tale black snuffboxes.
The next thing he knew, he opened his eyes to see the room awash with sunlight as he heard the creak of the library door opening. A maid entered with a tray, followed by Cecil. The maid set the tray on a nearby low table and gingerly picked up his muddy footwear and stockings before making her way back out of the room. Cecil closed the door behind her before taking a seat on a leather armchair near the hearth. Someone had been in to stoke the fire. Chloe was nowhere to be seen.
“Good afternoon.” Cecil had changed his clothing. Freshly shaven, his appearance was immaculate.
Ashford sat up and stretched his arms over his head. The satinwood clock on the mantle showed the time to be a few minutes after noon. Realizing he must look a sight, his response was less than cheery. “Good afternoon. I expected to see you before now.”
“When Landry fired his pistol, he attracted attention. I had to explain the situation to some runners.” Cecil nodded toward the tray. “Have something to eat. You look awful.”
