Suddenly she was grabbed from behind and a dirty hand was clamped over her mouth as she was dragged back farther into the shadows. She was thrust back against the side of the barge, and found herself gazing in terror into the leering, drunken face of her assailant. He pressed against her. “Want some company, love?” His breath reeked of gin and she tried desperately to struggle free, but he merely tightened his hold, grinning and trying to kiss her.
As suddenly as he had seized her, he suddenly let go. He gave a grunt of pain and slumped onto the ice, lying there motionless at her feet, a little blood oozing from the blow he’d received on the back of the head. She stared down at him, still so terrified and shocked that she couldn’t move.
“You all right, love?”
Slowly she raised her eyes, and found herself looking into the concerned face of the young soldier who’d saved her. His scarlet uniform was bright even in the shadows.
“You all right, love?” he asked again.
“Y-yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I’m all right.”
“I saw him grab you.” He looked curiously at her. “You’re not the usual run of it, are you? You don’t look to me the sort that should be out on her own at night.”
“I don’t. I mean….” She was still shaken. “Th-thank you for saving me.”
He grinned then. “Knight in shining armor, that’s me.” He looked puzzled again then. “Why
are
you all on your own here? It’s just asking for trouble, you know.”
“I’m looking for someone.”
“Your feller?”
“No. A girl. I teach at a seminary and she’s run away here tonight. I’m afraid for her.”
“I can see that. Well, I’ve nothing else to do, so I’ll help you, if you like. If I’m with you, you won’t be bothered.”
She gazed thankfully at him. “Would you do that for me?”
“Wouldn’t have offered otherwise. Besides, I like helping damsels in distress, especially if they’re pretty.” He prodded the unconscious drunkard with his boot. “He’ll be all right by and by. Bit of a headache, but that’s all.” He offered her his arm then. “Come on, we’ll set about looking for your runaway. What does she look like?”
As they walked away from the barge, she noticed that he had a limp, as if he had been badly wounded recently.
* * *
Stella was in the canvas enclosure where the whole sheep was being roasted. She’d been there for a long time now and she was becoming frightened. She didn’t care for the man and woman she was with—they didn’t seem very respectable—and there was no sign at all of Nadia. The charcoal smoke was getting in her eyes, making them sting, but she knew that the stinging wasn’t due only to the smoke; she was very close to tears as well. She wished more than anything that she was safely back at the seminary with Leonie and that everything was as it had been before it all went wrong. She wished that it was as it had been when she, Leonie, and Guy had set out to go to the theater. That had been good.
Stella’s guardians for the evening were acquaintances of the embassy’s obliging footman. The man was broad-shouldered and muscular, and his nose had once been broken in a prizefight. He was in his mid-thirties, with a fleshy face and thick lips, and like his friend at the embassy, he looked as if he could be persuaded to do anything, provided the price was right. His female companion was about the same age, although she endeavored to look a great deal younger. She wasn’t slender anymore, her hair was henna-rinsed, and she wore far too much rouge. There was a patch at the corner of her mouth, and when she walked she swung her hips in a way just as suggestive as the women Stella had noticed waiting outside the beer tents. Stella didn’t like her at all; she wasn’t sympathetic, and she seemed totally preoccupied with the thought that at any moment the ice would crack and they’d all be drowned. She dwelt on this dread so much that Stella was beginning to feel it would happen, and it was so terrifying a thought that in spite of the cold, beads of perspiration appeared on her forehead.
Even now the woman brought up the subject again, poking at the ice with her toe. “It’s goin’ to go, I just know it is.”
The man was irritated now. “It’s as firm as ‘Ampstead ‘Eath! For Gawd’s sake, Maisie, have some of this ‘ere mutton and shut up. We’re gettin’ good money for this little caper, and it ain’t as if we’ve got a lot to do!”
“I just don’t like this ice! We’re all goin’ to be drownded.”
She was overheard by the woman carving the mutton, a thin, wizened creature with a large, dirty mobcap and a clay pipe between her yellow teeth. “Drownded?” she said, her voice a little distorted because the pipe was clenched in her mouth all the time. “There was a feller drownded just back there by Blackfriars Bridge today.”
Maisie’s eyes widened. “What ‘appened?” she demanded.
“A plumber he was, name of Davis. He was carrying a load of lead piping and decided to cross over the ice. Vanished between two blocks of ice and ‘asn’t been seen since. There’s a few places like that—they looks safe enough, but before you know what’s ‘appening….” She snapped her fingers rather too expressively, grinning all the while at Maisie’s terrified face.
It was the last straw. Maisie dropped her mutton and gathered her skirts. “That’s it, I ain’t stoppin’ ‘ere another minute!”
“Aw, Maisie—” began the man.
“I don’t intend to be the second fool drownded ‘ere today!” she cried, pushing away through the crowds and out of the enclosure.
The man hesitated, glancing for a moment at Stella. Then he shrugged. He’d been paid already for getting the kid to the fair; what did she matter now? He hurried after Maisie, and the crowds seemed to fold over him as if he’d never been there.
Stella stared after them. “No!” she cried. “Don’t leave me!” She tried to push through as well, but the people didn’t part for her, she was too small. At last she managed to get out, but of her two guardians there was no sign. Terrified, she pressed back against the canvas side of the enclosure, tears pouring down her cheeks. She was afraid to leave that one place; she didn’t know what to do or whom to turn to. She sank slowly onto the ice, kneeling there, her face hidden in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she wept.
Leonie and the soldier had almost given up hope, when suddenly he noticed the pathetic little figure by the enclosure. “Is that her, miss?”
Leonie gave a gasp of relief. “Yes! Yes, it is!” She ran toward her. “Stella? Stella, are you all right?”
Stella slowly took her hands away from her face, hardly daring to turn in the direction of the voice, but then she scrambled joyfully to her feet and hurled herself into Leonie’s arms, bursting into fresh tears, but of thankfulness now.
“It’s all right, sweetheart,” murmured Leonie, holding her close. “I’m here now and you’re safe again.” She smiled at the soldier. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“That’s all right, miss, I’m glad to have been of service.”
Stella heard the strange male voice and looked up at him in surprise. Then she looked at Leonie. “But…where’s Edward?”
Leonie took her gently by the shoulders. “I neither know nor care, although tonight I’ve realized that for some reason
he
appears to be very interested in me. I’ve also realized that you, young lady, have a great deal of explaining to do.”
Stella’s lips quivered. “I know. Oh, Leonie, I wish I hadn’t been so silly, but it’s too late now, isn’t it? I’ve done just what they wanted me to, and now Uncle Guy will never want me home again.”
Leonie looked sadly at her. “You’re your own worst enemy, aren’t you? But you’re wrong about your uncle—he loves you very much and he does want you home with him again.”
“He won’t, not after he hears about tonight.”
“We might be able to get away with it,” said Leonie slowly. “I’m sure no one knew when we left the seminary, and if they still haven’t discovered we’re missing, we might be able to get back in as secretly as we left, Stella.”
Hope leapt into the girl’s eyes. “Do you really think we could?”
“It’s possible—only possible, mind. But, Stella…?”
“Yes?”
“If we succeed and I promise not to say anything to Sir Guy about tonight, you must promise something in return. It’s barely a week now before he goes to Poyntons, and he wants you to go with him, but you must give me your word that you’ll behave from now on and try to live in harmony with Imogen.”
Stella’s lips pressed rebelliously together. “She won’t let me, she hates me!”
“It’s the only way, sweetheart.”
After a long moment the girl nodded slowly. “I know.”
“And you’ll give me your word?”
“Yes.” Stella smiled ruefully at her. “I’ll be as good as gold from now on…. I really will.”
Leonie smiled, ruffling her hair fondly. “I sincerely hope you mean to stand by your word this time.”
“I do. I was afraid tonight, Leonie, more afraid than I’ve ever been in my life before, and if it hadn’t been for you….” Her voice died away and she looked curiously up into Leonie’s eyes. “If you don’t like Lord Edward, who
is
your lover then?”
“My what?”
“Your lover. Nadia said that you’d—”
“Nadia Benckendorff has by far too much to say for herself, Stella de Lacey. I haven’t got a lover, as you’d know well enough if you’d stopped to think. When on earth do I have the time to entertain a beau?…. Well?…. I teach all day and I’m with you all night, or had you forgotten that?”
Stella looked shamefaced then. “I didn’t think.”
“You most certainly did not.”
“I’m sorry, Leonie, truly I am. Do you forgive me?”
“Of course I do, because I know how dreadfully upset you’ve been about things. Now then, I think it’s time we went home.” She turned apologetically to the soldier. “I know I’ve imposed most dreadfully on you tonight, and I’m ashamed to ask you to help again.”
He smiled. “Ask away.”
“Will you escort us back to my hackney coach?”
“It’ll be an honor, miss. Come on.”
Stella clung close to Leonie as they walked back to the shore, and to Leonie’s immense relief, the hackney was still waiting, the driver huddled asleep inside. He woke with a start as the soldier opened the door.
As the hackneyman climbed wearily back onto his perch and Stella was seated safely in the old coach, Leonie turned to thank her rescuer again. “I’ll be forever grateful to you, sir, you are a true gentleman.”
“I’m just a soldier, miss.”
“What’s your name?”
“Whittacker, miss. Private John Whittacker of the Fifty-first Light Infantry Regiment, under the command of Lieutenant Colonel Mainwaring.”
“Where are your barracks?”
“I’m not stationed back here in England, miss. I was wounded in Spain and got sent back here. I’m hoping to get over there again soon—a feller doesn’t like to miss out on it.”
She smiled. “I wish you well, Private Whittacker, and I will be sure to write to your commanding officer, informing him of your kindness and gallantry tonight.”
He blushed. “There’s no need to do that, miss.”
“There’s every need.” She took out some coins and pressed them into his hand. “Please accept this.”
“Oh, no, miss! I wouldn’t dream of it.”
She smiled again. “Won’t you drink the king’s health, sir?”
He hesitated and then grinned. “I’m the king’s man, miss, and I’m always willing to drink his health. Thank you.”
“Thank
you
. Good night.”
“Good night, miss.”
He assisted her inside and closed the door. The sound of the fair was suddenly and blessedly muffled. A moment later, Jupiter was turning the coach around and trotting slowly back up the lane toward the busy thoroughfares of the city.
Guy returned to his house at midnight after dining with Harry Fitzjohn. He handed his hat and gloves to his butler, and then paused for a while to look at Imogen’s portrait above the fireplace. Tonight Harry had praised her as the loveliest woman in England, and perhaps he was right, for there was something ethereal about the sweet face gazing down from Lawrence’s canvas. The artist had captured her perfectly, and yet was she really as flawless as the portrait suggested?
The butler cleared his throat. “Sir Guy?”
“Yes?”
“A message was delivered earlier.” The man held out a silver plate on which lay a folded, sealed piece of paper.
Guy broke the wax and read: “If you go to the seminary immediately, you will find that your niece has flown the nest and that Miss Conyngham is away in the arms of her lover.” He looked sharply at the butler. “When did this arrive?”
“Some time ago, sir. I trust it isn’t of great importance, for you did say you weren’t to be disturbed at Sir Henry’s—”
“I know, I know. Who brought the note?”
“A boy, sir, a ruffian who ran off when I tried to question him.”
“Have Archer bring my carriage around immediately. With luck it will still be harnessed.”
“Yes, sir.” The butler almost ran to carry out the order.
Guy slowly crumpled the piece of paper, his dark eyes angry.
* * *
The hackney conveying Leonie and Stella halted at last on the corner of Park Lane and Curzon Street. Leonie looked quickly toward the seminary. It was in darkness; there was no sign of any alarm having been raised. They had a chance! She got out and helped Stella down before paying the hackneyman handsomely for his trouble. As she parted with the last of her coins, she sighed inwardly, for now she had nothing left.
The hackney drove slowly away, on its way home at last, and Leonie turned Stella to face her. “It looks as if we’ll be able to get away with it, provided we can get inside without disturbing anyone. I know that Joseph often sits up very late in the kitchens, practicing his reading and writing, and I have my fingers crossed that he’ll be there now. We’ll go in the back way, from South Audley Street.”
Stella nodded, and they hurried down Curzon Street toward the corner. South Audley Street was silent and their footsteps echoed a little as they ran to the tiny alley leading to the seminary garden. At last they could see the kitchens, and to their immense relief, a light was glowing there. They crept through the snow, glancing up at the main building all the time, afraid that someone would look out and see them, but then at last they’d reached the kitchens. Peering inside through a crack in the curtains, they saw Joseph, his wig discarded on the table before him, his curly head bent over a book. Leonie tapped on the window and he gave a start, his eyes wide as he stared toward the sound. He couldn’t see them, and so she tapped again. Slowly he rose to his feet, picking up a large poker from the hearth before coming warily toward the window. He drew the curtains sharply back and the flood of light illuminated their faces. His mouth dropped with surprise and he hastily discarded the poker and came to unbolt the door. A moment later they were safely inside in the warmth.