Case said, “You do realize that this place could go up at any moment?”
Waldo slapped him on the shoulder. “We’ve been in tight spots before.”
Case had always known that he was lucky in his friends, but his breath caught in his throat and he clapped Waldo on the back.
“We’ll find the duke, sir,” said Harper. “Never you fear.
Lance, fetch the duke.
”
Lance did not hesitate.
Maybe, thought Case, they had a chance after all.
Lance, fetch the duke! Lance, fetch the lost sheep!
He didn’t know whether to weep or laugh.
Ruggles stopped rowing.
“They’re out! They’re out!”
From end to end, the ground floor was ablaze, so all they could see against the building were dark figures moving quickly to the water’s edge.
“I think they have the duke,” Ruggles cried.
“Oh, they’ll have him. Case wouldn’t leave his father behind.”
That was something else she loved about him. Some people thought he was aloof and arrogant, but that’s because they saw what they wanted to see. He was scion of a great and noble family. But this noble family had more than blue blood running through its veins. There was deep compassion here, loyalty and honor . . . she didn’t know why she loved him. In point of fact, he
was
arrogant and aloof. What he needed was the right woman to soften him. Lucky for him, he’d met up with her.
“Miss Mayberry, they’re safe. There’s no need to take on so.”
“I know. I know.” She found her handkerchief and blew her nose.
She caught her breath when it came—an almighty roar, then the whole building went up in tongues of fire. Whoever was rowing Case’s boat, didn’t stop to watch. The little boat came on steadily.
Their boat touched shore and Robert and Freddie were there to wrap them in blankets and help them. “Don’t kill Ruggles,” she said. “It turns out he’s one of us. He’s injured. Someone should help him.”
“It’s only a scratch,” said Ruggles. “I’ll take care of it myself.”
The riverbank was lined with men, most of them guests, many of them footmen and groundsmen. They had grim expressions and talked in whispers. Jane doubted that they knew what was going on.
When Case’s boat came into shore, and everyone could see that he was all right, they started to cheer, but the cheers died away when they saw the duke. There were blankets on hand and one was used as a stretcher.
“Let’s get him to the house,
now,
” Case said. “Robert, Freddie, tell all these people to go home. They can read about what happened in the papers.”
He saw Jane and elbowed his way through to her. He was covered in soot; there were burns on his face. She went on tiptoe and kissed him. “We’ll face this together,” she said.
“If it hadn’t been for Lance—” His voice broke. “Thank you for sending him. Where is he?”
Lance was staying close to the duke, and when the stretcher bearers began to make their way to the house, he went with them.
It was a subdued procession that followed after them.
When they’d scrubbed the dirt from their hands and faces, they gathered in a small parlor off the duke’s dressing room, Jane, Waldo, and Ruggles. Case was with his father and the doctor; Robert and Freddie were assessing the damage to the house and making sure the danger was over; and Harper had taken off for Woodlands to fetch Lady Sophy and fresh clothes for Jane. Nobody commented on it; nobody thought it odd. Everybody knew that her place was with Case.
She looked up when Waldo put a cup and saucer into her hand. “Tea,” he said. “Drink it. It will do you good.”
She took a sip, but she did it to please him. Her thoughts were on the duke, and how still and silent he’d been when they’d laid him on the bed. His face had seemed all angles and planes and shadows. There was a lot of blood. He’d been beaten into unconsciousness. Then she’d looked at Case. He seemed to be suffering torments.
He’d told her to wait in the parlor, and when she’d called Lance, he’d refused to come.
“Leave him,” said Case. “I’ll send him out if he becomes troublesome.”
She’d groped for words to comfort him, but his mind wasn’t on her. Before she could find them, he had turned away. “I have to send messengers to bring my sister and brother home,” he said.
Waldo’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Jane,” he said, “do you think you’re up to answering a few questions?”
Anything to take her mind off the duke and Case. “About what?”
“About Gideon Piers.”
“Gideon?”
“You’re one of the few people who has spoken to him. You may be able to help us solve a puzzle.”
She looked from one to the other. “Who are you?” she asked.
“You know who I am,” said Waldo. “I’m one of Case’s closest friends.” When she said nothing, he sighed and went on, “We work for a branch of the service.”
“What service?”
“The Secret Service, but not Special Branch.”
“Does Case know about this?”
Waldo shook his head. “We couldn’t tell him, but I’m sure he’s figured most of it out by now.”
“Let me get this straight,” she said. She was looking at Ruggles. “You’re just like Special Branch agents, yet you let me go to Vauxhall to meet with that fiend?”
Ruggles had the grace to look shamefaced. “I knew nothing would happen to you,” he said. “Or you may believe I would have kept you from going.”
“You hit Harper over the head!”
“A tap, merely. He wasn’t supposed to be there.”
“Why didn’t you tell us who you were and what you were up to?”
“Because,” said Waldo gently, “that’s not how we work in our section. Jane, those questions?”
She pursed her lips, but after a moment, she mastered her temper. “Fine,” she said. “Ask your questions.”
Waldo said, “Our section head thought, when Piers burst upon the scene again, that this might be our last chance to recover the gold he stole from all those British convoys in Spain. We thought he was dead, you see, and he’d buried the gold in Spain, and we’d lost it forever. But he would never have come home to England without his spoils.”
“He never mentioned any gold to me.”
“What we’re looking for is a hiding place.”
“A hiding place? What’s wrong with a bank vault?”
Ruggles grinned. “Thieves and villains have been known to rob banks and bank vaults. That wouldn’t suit Piers. Besides, there would be too much gold to hide easily. He’d want a safe place that he could get to without being seen.”
She shook her head. “I wish I could help you, but I can’t.”
“It could be hidden in the floor of a church,” said Ruggles, “or in the crypt, in the gallery, in the cellars, in a grave.”
Again Jane shook her head. “There’s his mother’s grave,” she said. “But Piers revered his mother. He would never desecrate her grave.”
“If she died in the poorhouse, she would be buried in the local churchyard, wouldn’t she?”
“No. She had a pauper’s grave. It was dismal, really. No gravestone, just a numbered wooden marker. It was supposed to be hallowed ground, but it was just a bare patch of land beside a busy thoroughfare in Kensington.”
Jane set down her cup and saucer with enough force to make droplets of tea go flying. “At least, that’s where she was until three gullible, green-as-grass innocents had the remains removed to a more suitable setting! At her son’s behest.”
“Where is the grave?” asked Ruggles quietly.
“In a little village called Newbrey, out past Staines. It’s supposed to be the parish where his mother was born.”
“How will we know the grave?”
“It’s in the parish graveyard. There’s a stone. ‘Sacred to the memory of Sadie Sellars.’ ”
She looked up when the door opened. Case stood there. She searched his face anxiously and thought it was a little less strained. “How is your father?” she asked.
“It’s too soon to say, but the doctor thinks there’s hope. Come and see this.”
He took her hand and led her to the duke’s bedside. Lance was lying on top of the bed, pressed close to the duke. “No, don’t take him down, just watch.”
Lance whined piteously, then licked the duke’s hand. Moments went by, then the duke brushed his fingers along Lance’s flank. After a moment or two, they repeated the process.
“I’ve never seen him do anything like this before,” Jane said.
The doctor said, “You have a very intelligent and very valuable dog there, Miss Mayberry. He seems trained for this work. Was he a mountain dog?”
“No. Just an ordinary sheepdog.”
“She wouldn’t know,” Case said. “She stole him.”
Oh yes, she could tell that he wasn’t nearly as wound up. He sat down on the bed, took his father’s hand, and brushed his fingers along the palm. The duke did not return the gesture. His lips moved. “Caspar,” he whispered.
Case turned brilliant gray eyes upon Jane. His voice quivered only slightly. “We look like chimney sweeps,” he said. “But what does it matter! I can’t leave my father, Jane, but I want you here too. Will you stay?”
“I’ll sit over here,” she said, “as quiet as a mouse.”
The doctor excused himself, not to go home, he said, but to go to the room the servants had made up for him. If there was any change, he was to be called at once.
Jane sat silently, huddled into her blanket, and listened as Case talked quietly to his father, childhood memories that gave him pleasure to recall. She found herself smiling, and as his voice droned on, her eyelids grew heavy, and her breathing became slow and regular. Finally, she slept.
Chapter 24
They were married in the parish church in Twickenham on a typical January morn-ing. It poured with rain. Nobody seemed to mind, especially the happy couple. It was a quiet affair, with only a dozen or so people in attendance, among them, and most gratifying to His Grace, his daughter, Lady Rosamund, and her husband, and Lord Justin, who had arrived home in the wee hours of that very morning.
The duke, in an invalid chair, was flanked by Harper and Lance. In fact, Harper and Lance had been His Grace’s constant companions since the night of the accident, and in Case’s view, had made a great contribution to his father’s recovery.
As His Grace watched the young couple kneel before the priest for the blessing, an odd tightness gripped his throat. It seemed to him that he had awakened three weeks ago, on Christmas Day, to find his son a changed man. That wall of reserve that he found hard to tolerate had come tumbling down. He wasn’t sure if that lovely young woman was the reason for it or the fact that he’d come to within a hairbreadth of succumbing to his injuries.
He couldn’t remember a damn thing about that night, and Dr. Nichols said he might never remember. Most of what he knew came from the newspapers, that a notorious bandit known only as La Roca, who was thought to have died in Spain, had returned to England to take his revenge on Major Devere, the soldier who had inflicted a crushing and humiliating defeat on La Roca and his desperadoes at their hideout in St. Michel. A report from the War Office stated that one of His Majesty’s Secret Service units had not only foiled the attempt, but had recovered most of the gold La Roca had stolen from British convoys all those years ago in Spain.
Caspar filled him in as questions occurred to him, but he wasn’t terribly interested. He was just thankful that, for once, the Secret Service had not bungled things, or he might not have had his son.
His daughter, Rosamund, who was sitting right behind him, put her hand on his shoulder. “Father,” she said, “this must be the happiest day of your life. I know you were beginning to think that Caspar would never marry.”
That odd tightness was back in his throat. “No,” he said, “the happiest day of my life was when you came back to me after you were abducted from Newgate.”
Lord Justin, deeply tanned, a younger version of his brother, said, “Honestly, I don’t know why we English don’t all move to Italy. It’s freezing in here. Isn’t there some sort of heating system?”
“I think it’s quite warm,” said Lady Sophy.
Richard Maitland sighed.
Harper said, “Hush! This is a solemn occasion. I wants to hear what the priest is saying.”
All the Deveres sealed their lips.
When the service was over, friends and family, led by the duke, went forward to congratulate Case and Jane. Afterward, the duke had Harper wheel him to the side, but he kept his gaze on his son. He saw him exchange a brief glance with his bride, and noted the blaze of happiness that suddenly transformed Caspar’s grave expression. Jane was blushing, as though his son had touched her intimately in a roomful of people.
Life was odd, thought the duke. A few weeks ago, he’d been wishing that his son had never met this woman. But seeing them together, day by day, had made him change his mind. Or maybe it was the realization of how fragile life was that had changed his mind. If anything had happened to Caspar, it would have been some consolation to know that he’d found joy with this woman.
The husband was gone. That made things simpler, of course, but even if Campbell were alive and the awful prospect of divorce still loomed, it would not trouble him now. This was not an infatuation. Caspar and Jane were not young or flighty or romantic. If anything, they were too serious, too responsible. They would not have chosen the route of divorce unless they were convinced of the rightness of their decision.
The details of Campbell’s murder were sketchy. Footpads, he thought Caspar told him. He couldn’t seem to muster any interest in the details. The doctor said this was not unusual in one who had suffered a severe concussion. In time, he would begin to take an interest in outside events again.
For the present, he was content to enjoy the moment. He had everything he wanted and needed right here, his children and their spouses, his good friend Harper, and Lance.
He wondered at the bond that had formed between himself and the dog. Something must have happened that night. If only he could remember.
He was too happy to think of that now, and his happiness made him realize how lonely he’d been these last months, after Rosamund married and went to live at Woodlands. But all that was going to change. Caspar and Jane were going to make their home with him, and Harper had taken a leave from Special Branch. They were going to rebuild the infirmary, make it bigger and better, and scour the local parishes for broken-down carriages that, with loving care, could be restored to their former glory.
Yes, life was odd. One moment he was at death’s door, and the next he was impatient to be up and doing.
Impatient? He wasn’t impatient. He was profoundly content. He had raised three fine children. He knew Elizabeth would be proud of them.
It was late in the afternoon before the party began to break up. Freddie wanted to get home before it was dark, so he had one of the footmen order his curricle brought round, then he slipped away to the billiard room to enjoy a cigar with Richard and Waldo. Jane went with Sally to get her coat. She’d ordered Case to stay with his family. They needed this time together, alone with their father, especially as this was Justin’s first night home.
Sally said, “Lady Octavia is going to be beside herself with joy when she hears you have married Case.”
“I’m not sure about that,” replied Jane. “She told me that he would marry someone who was almost a princess, and you know how she hates to be wrong.”
“What? ‘Almost a princess?’ What does that mean?”
“I presume someone on the same social footing as Case.”
Sally’s frown cleared. “The Deveres are lucky to get you, and I hope they know it. What I meant, though, is that Lady Octavia will be thinking of the Devere connections, their influence and, dare I say, their money?”
“As long as she doesn’t expect me to use my influence with the Deveres.”
They were descending the stairs to the front hall when Sally took up the conversation where it had left off. “Jane, you’re not thinking of giving up your work at the library, are you?”
“Well . . . as a matter of fact, I am.”
“You mean, Case is forbidding it?”
Jane laughed. “Oh, no. He knows better than that.”
“Then why?”
When they reached the hall, Jane indicated that they should take chairs flanking the grate where a fire burned brightly. “I don’t mean to give it up entirely,” she said, “but you have to understand how things work with me. When I stumbled upon the library four years ago, it was as though a door opened. I didn’t seek it out. It was there in front of me. I could choose to go through it or not. I chose to pass through it, and I’ve never regretted that decision. In the last few weeks, another door has opened for me. I choose to go through this door too.”
“What door?” asked Sally, completely absorbed in Jane’s words.
Jane breathed deeply. “Poorhouses, or work-houses, whatever you want to call them. The people who run them. The people who staff them. Orphans. Their care and education. It all comes down to the Poor Law. Oh, I’m not going to take everything on at once. I’m going to start in a very small way.”
The porter entered and announced that his lordship’s curricle had been brought round.
“Curricle!” exclaimed Jane. “Don’t tell me Freddie brought you here in an open carriage?” When Sally nodded, Jane said, “Let me have one of the duke’s carriages brought round. Or you can stay the night. That’s what Waldo and Robert are doing. Then you can go home tomorrow in Robert’s carriage.”
“Thank you, but it isn’t necessary. It’s stopped raining. And I don’t want Freddie more upset than he already is.”
At this point, Jane sent the porter to fetch the viscount. This was one of the things that was hard to get used to, remembering not to say too much in front of the servants, and remembering that there were servants passing in and out of rooms all the time.
“Is Freddie upset? I didn’t notice.”
“Well, you wouldn’t on your wedding day.” Sally sat forward in her chair. “Oh, Jane, something heart-breaking happened at our house yesterday. Emily Drake came to call. She asked to see me, but it was really Freddie she wanted to talk to. The poor girl is completely crushed. Freddie is barely civil to her. He practically ignores her in company. And she is as deep in love as a girl can be. She was never interested in Case. That was only to make Freddie jealous. It’s always been Freddie with her. The thing is, I think Freddie loves her too. But he refuses to see her.”
“What was the point of her visit?”
“To make a clean breast of things and ask his forgiveness.”
“Sally, stay out of this. It’s not your problem.”
“But I hate to see him like this. He loves her and she loves him. She only stirred things up to get Freddie moving. Well, you know how slow he is.”
“Freddie may love her, but Emily doesn’t love him. She loves herself. She’s like a child. She uses people, then casts them aside. I’m not thinking only of you and me. There were others she involved in her schemes. Lord Reeve for one. Lady Sophy, Case, Waldo. Even my stableboy. Is that the kind of woman you want Freddie to marry?”
Sally said, “But people change. I think this has been a lesson to her.”
“I hope it has. But it may be too late for Freddie. Anyway, they have to work things out by themselves.”
They heard Freddie’s steps on the stairs, and Jane said, “I’ll walk you to the door.”
Arms linked, the two friends strolled to the front entrance. “Do you know what I think?” said Jane. “I think, when Freddie’s heart has mended, he’s going to meet the woman who is right for him, and she’s going to be as straightforward and as honorable as he is. Trust me, he’s not going to be slow off the mark when he meets the right woman.”
“And what about me, Jane? When am I going to meet the right man?”
“I don’t tell fortunes.”
“I know, it’s a game. Indulge me.”
“Well,” said Jane, “you won’t be looking for love. You’ll be teetering on a chair, moving crockery around, and a seductive masculine voice right behind you will say, ‘Call off your dog or I’ll be forced to shoot it.’ Naturally, you’ll hate this gentleman on sight, and he’ll be forced, for the rest of his life, to try to make you change your mind.”
Both women laughed uproariously.
Robert had gone for a walk, leaving Richard and Waldo alone in the billiard room.
“So, Waldo,” Richard said, “when exactly did the Secret Service come into the investigation?”
Waldo was savoring a very fine cognac. He looked at Richard over the rim of his glass. “I’m ashamed to say, we drifted into it. Like everyone else, yourself included, we didn’t take the murder of John Collier seriously. However, because there was a great deal of money still to recover, two of us were assigned to the file.”
“You and Ruggles?”
“Well, I was the logical choice.”
“You being Case’s best friend.”
“Do I detect a sneer behind those words? You, of all people, should know that that’s what made me invaluable. Come now, Richard, you were in the Secret Service before you transferred to Special Branch. You know how it works. Would you like another cheroot?”
“God, no. One is my limit. I only smoke those things to be sociable. But you can pass over that decanter of brandy you’ve been hoarding.”
Waldo passed him the decanter of brandy.
After topping up his glass, Richard said, “Tell me about Ruggles. When did he become Case’s manservant, and how did he infiltrate Piers’s outfit?”
Waldo grinned. “I’ve never worked on an assignment like this before, you know, when you’re only going through the motions because you don’t expect results, and you strike lucky every time. That’s what happened with Ruggles. The Albany supplies its residents with manservants, if they want them. Case made use of the service. It was easy enough to arrange to have Ruggles assigned to Case. The timing was awkward, coming so soon after John Collier’s body turned up, but naturally we provided Ruggles with impeccable references, and Case accepted them.”
“Naturally,” replied Richard.
“Infiltrating Piers’s outfit was our real object, but we thought that was a lost cause. As I said, we were simply going through the motions.”
“So they approached Ruggles?”
“After he’d sold a few bits and pieces that belonged to Case. Obviously, he was dishonest and could be bought.”
“What about this place across the river where the bandits were camping out?”
“We knew it was there, but not Piers’s connection to it. Case’s strategy was to do nothing that would scare Piers off. As it turned out, it was a successful strategy.”
“Except that the duke was almost beaten to death.”
“Yes, well, things always go wrong. We never expected the duke to be a target.”
“You were lucky to recover the gold.”
“Yes, weren’t we?”
“Mmm.” Richard gazed into space. “Piers’s last will and testament. How did that come about?”
“We’re still investigating. There’s no mention of it in army records. We think he arranged it privately, through a third party.”
They drank their brandies, each lost in his own thoughts. Finally, Richard said, “That was a fascinating story, Waldo. Highly entertaining, in fact. Now let’s have the real story.”
“Don’t you believe me?”
“Up to a point. But I know it wasn’t that simple. As you said, I was in the Secret Service before I transferred to Special Branch, so I know how it works.”
“Then,” said Waldo, “you’ll know that we never divulge our secrets, especially not to Special Branch agents.”
After a moment, both men began to laugh.
Richard met his wife in the hall. She had come to look for him, and he was looking for her. He frowned when he saw the pallor of her skin.
“You look tired,” he said.