Conduct Unbecoming of a Gentleman (14 page)

Adron’s lips tightened. He would start his search with her aunt, although he doubted he would receive any information from that quarter. At least it was a place to start.

He hated his helplessness and the frustration bit deeply into him. If he could get his hands on her at this moment, he would shake her until her teeth rattled for putting him through this anxiety. Adron shook his head and drew a deep breath. This situation called for calm critical reasoning. Acting in a wild, unthinking manner would be as stupid as pushing an untried horse at a fence.

“Milord,” Horace shouted over the drumbeat of hooves. “No sense in killing good horseflesh.”

Adron waved and slowed the pace. If he couldn’t find her, how could he live with himself knowing he had driven her away? He’d lost his cousin and several good friends during the recent war but never had the loss seemed so desperately disturbing as her disappearance. At the thought his thighs unconsciously tightened on his horse’s flanks. Although he had intended to put her aside, now that she had left, he discovered he couldn’t bear to lose her.

“If you run these here stallions into the ground you won’t never reach London town at all.”

“You’re right but I must stop her before she disappears altogether. She won’t be foolish enough to stay at her aunt’s place for long.”

The great beast of a horse slung sweat with every stride and lather formed on his coat by the time Adron finally came to his senses. He slowed his mount again and patted his horse’s neck. “Forgive old son.”

Horace slowed his mount beside him. “We’ll find her.”

“But she’s has a good day’s head start. Anything could happen to her.” Adron grimaced. “No doubt she’ll visit her aunt but will her aunt admit she has any knowledge of the flight?”

“Tis doubtful,” Horace offered his opinion. “But that weasel of a footman, Rupert, now he’s a different story. Use a bit of strong persuasion and he’ll be squealing like a pig. Most likely he’ll tell anything you’ll be wanting to know. Happy too in fact.” Horace grinned.

Laurel arrived at Aunt Betsy’s and rapped on the door. After a delay, the door swung open and a young girl stood there.

“Please tell my aunt that I’m here.” Laurel moved inside and shut the door behind her. Aunt Betsy hated waking early and hardly ever stirred from her chamber of a morning before she tasted her first cup of chocolate. Laurel grinned as the servant curtsied and raced up the stairs.

The girl reappeared at the top of the stairs. “My mistress asked if you’d come up.”

Laurel climbed the stairs to the second floor and entered Aunt Betsy’s chamber.

Aunt Betsy, still in her ruffled nightcap and robe, motioned to the servant. “Fetch my chocolate and bring another cup for my niece.” She turned to Laurel. “Must be something dreadful to bring you here this early and in that garb too, stars above gel. That get-up is enough to shake a body’s nerves. Sit.” She waved Laurel to a chair by the hearth and stooped to stir the coals. “Now let’s hear all about it.”

Laurel sank into the chair and cradled Jamie in her lap. She licked her lips. “I must feed Jamie first.”

“Certainly. How is my little lamb?” Betsy leaned over and kissed his head.

“We’re fine.” Laurel glanced down and grimaced. “Perhaps not totally fine.”

Before long the girl bearing a tall chocolate pot embellished with roses and two china cups entered the room wafting the pleasing aroma of chocolate before her.

“Here girl.” Betsy waved the maid toward the small table on the other side of the fireplace. “That will do. And, Mattie, please take my great-nephew to the kitchen and give him a meal. Make him comfortable.”

“Certainly, Ma’am.” Mattie took Jamie and exited.

Laurel removed her bonnet and ran a hand through her hair while Betsy poured two cups of chocolate, handing one to Laurel. Betsy sipped her chocolate and gazed over the rim at Laurel with an expectant look.

Laurel wrapped her fingers around the cup and sniffed at the contents, the smell familiar and soothing. She swallowed a small bit giving her a moment to gather her thoughts. “I don’t have much time. I’m on my way to America as soon as a ship sails.”

Betsy’s eyes widened in surprise. “When we talked, I thought you decided against America.”

“That was before things fell apart.” Laurel’s voice broke. “Regardless, I can’t linger here. This is the first place Adron will look.”

With a light of understanding in her eyes, Betsy sighed. “I take it true love didn’t run smooth. A shame. Love never works as one would want or expect. Although I suggested such a flight, I despair of losing you to America. Such a long way from home and I’ll not see you again,” she finished and dabbed at the corner of her eye. “Are you positive America is the only answer?”

“Perhaps not, but I can’t remain in England. Adron accused me of stealing the Laningham jewels, even replacing the lot with paste replicas. Can you believe it?” She bit her lip. “Rhonda said her maid had seen me with a necklace from the collection but she couldn’t have. He went to Landings to investigate.”

Betsy’s mouth hung slightly opened. “You do have a problem. Especially if this woman is willing to lie about you.”

“I don’t know that she will but I dare not take that chance. And because of everything that has happened, I couldn’t admit to him that I do have part of the collection in my trunk. Robert gave me the jewels to guard. Now I understand why he had been so adamant and secretive about the whole thing.”

“Thank goodness I sent to Collinsworth Cottage for your trunk the other day. Something told me you might need the thing and seems you do. The very thought of the day that wild-eyed coachman came to the cottage to deliver your trunk still gives me the shivers. His terrifying tale of the wreck and all is why I came to London in the first place. I supposed it would be easier to catch word of you here.”

“And I have the shivers when I recall the letter I received telling how gravely ill you were, nearly on your death bed. I love you, Aunt Betsy.”

“I love you too, child.” She wrung her hands. “Surely, Lord Gladrey will discover the truth and everything will be resolved with no need to flee.”

“Oh, Aunt Betsy,” Laurel wailed, her voice nearly suspended with tears. “I hate to leave you but I must. He wants me out of his house. He intends to offer for Melissa.”

Betsy sighed. “Well, my dear, that’s what you always suspected.”

“But he won’t allow me to take Jamie with me. He thinks to let Melissa raise him. I won’t,” she said between gritted teeth.

“Certainly not,” Aunt Betsy snapped. She straightened her shoulders and her chin came up. “Regardless of how I feel about it we must get you on the first ship to America. I can almost stand the notion if you and Jamie are not torn apart. Now let’s see what’s to be done.”

“I’m going to cut my hair and dye it black. Old clothes and anything else for a disguise.”

“Laurel, you can’t go about looking a fright. That will gain more attention than if you appear as a modest governess. A less than fashionable gown and a slightly out of date bonnet along with serviceable boots will serve.” She considered for a moment. “Perhaps we should add my wig to promote the illusion of maturity as well.”

Laurel grinned. “Perhaps you’re right.”

Betsy returned her grin. “Of course I’m right.” She sighed and swallowed a mouthful of chocolate. “It’s not what I wish but I realize it wouldn’t be safe for you to stay here.” A light entered her eyes. “I know the very thing. Mattie is my housekeeper’s granddaughter come to town to seek a position. The girl can stay with you until you sail. You’ll need someone to watch Jamie and such. She’ll be a great help and company for you.”

A few hours after he arrived in London, Adron tripped lightly down the steps of Betsy Collinsworth’s town house with a satisfied grin on his lips. The aunt seemed baffled by Laurel’s disappearance denying all knowledge of her activities but her countenance gave lie to her words. However, as he suspected, the footman had divulged all the pertinent information at his disposal.

Adron’s heart nearly failed him when he considered how close she’d come to escaping his reach. He might never have found her or Jamie again. The thought chilled his blood and anger at himself for giving her a reason to flee rose, until a red haze hovered before his eyes. Savage anger swamped him and fury for putting him through this raged against her. At least anger nullified the debilitating fear that had numbed his mind before. Now he could bring this episode to a close and bring her home where she belonged—with Jamie.

The Boarshead Inn, located off the harbor appeared perfect to Laurel for her wants. Having the Marie anchored close by, even with a tavern next door, looked to be a satisfactory location to Laurel. Before the day was half gone, she and the young servant girl were ensconced above stairs in a waterfront room. She glanced at Jamie asleep on the lumpy bed against the wall.

Laurel straightened her bonnet and turned to Mattie. “I must arrange our passage. Don’t let anyone in while I’m out.”

Mattie curtsied. “Milady. Take care. Tis a rough part of town.”

“I’ll be safe enough. I have my umbrella with me and my pistol is in my reticule.”

Laurel glanced around as she stepped onto the street. The heavy smell of fish had her wrinkling her nose and the breeze off the sea nearly took her breath away. Men high in the ships riggings shouted to others on the quay and she swallowed, keeping her head lowered. She nearly tripped over a thick coil of rope and her fingers tightened around her closed umbrella. Laurel held it like a shield in front of her, hurrying toward the nearest shipping office and in a trice her destiny was sealed.

Excitement, dread and reluctant acceptance of her fate tangled her emotions. In two days, she and Jamie would set sail on the Marie, a ship bound for America. Two days seemed a century away and unease followed her down the street as she purchased food to carry back to her room. Laurel sighed with relief when she reached the Boarshead and shut the door of her room behind her.

“Regrettably the ship doesn’t leave for two days,” Laurel informed Mattie. “I suppose we must make the best of it.”

“Yes, Milady.”

For what little remained of the day, she and Mattie set about unpacking her trunk. She sniffed the first garment and sneezed at the slightly musty order that clung to the gown. “I could look at the delay in our departure as a blessing. At least I’ll have time to air my clothing before we sail.”

Laurel opened the shutters to air the room as well as her garments but the unpleasant smell of the wharf and the foul language of rough men drifted into the window. She soon snapped the opening shut and gloom deepened the corners shrouding the chamber in shadows.

“Let’s enjoy our meal and allow Jamie to play.”

Mattie laughed and bobbed her head setting her red curls bouncing. “Yes, Milady.”

Later in the evening after Mattie and Jamie drifted to sleep, Laurel dug a small casket from the secret compartment in the bottom of her trunk. Smoothing the top of the case with her hand, she inserted her key in the lock. Perhaps among the jewelry, she could find a clue as to the identity of the thief. Hope that she might stay after all still lingered.

A couple of candles stood on the wobbly table where she spread the jewels. A blue diamond on a silver chain sparkled in the flickering light. Picking up the stone, she gasped. This must be the item the thief was after. Nervously she glanced over her shoulder, but no thief lurked in the shadows. Laurel let out a breath.

She plucked a ruby encrusted locket from the pile and discovered a picture of Robert as a boy. Laurel gently rubbed her finger over the surface before snapping the locket closed. Emeralds, rubies and even a lovely string of pearls lay on the table among the other sparkling gems but nothing else—no clue of any kind that might point to the thief.

Disappointed, she began to pace. Anxiety burned from the pit of her stomach into her throat and she couldn’t sit still. She grimaced as her eyes traveled to the table where she’d displayed the jewelry. This was the reason she had to flee. No, that wasn’t true. The truth burned the back of her eyes and nose. Laurel couldn’t stay and watch Adron with a bride. She just couldn’t.

Although weary to the bone, she couldn’t settle and calmly sleep. Racket from the tavern next door penetrated the thin walls and her restlessness increased. Her mind seethed with regrets and with thoughts of leaving her aunt along with everything familiar behind, but she managed to push the thought of Adron aside. She took another turn about the room.

A constant worry that she might be apprehended filled her with dread. Her ship would sail day after tomorrow and she longed for the wait to be over. Against her will, her thoughts drifted back to Adron. What would he do if he did find her?

A few hours after night fall, Adron completed his arrangements and stepped out of his carriage in front of the Boarshead Inn. He noted the neighborhood where the inn stood was far from savory, rough and dangerous, especially for a young woman. How dare she place herself and Jamie in such danger. She could have been raped, even murdered and he would have been too late. Motioning for Horace to remain behind, he gritted his teeth and mounted the steps to the upper floor.

A commotion below stairs caught Laurel’s attention and she paused in her pacing. Heavy boots pounded up the steps directly to her door. She caught her breath, waiting until a startlingly loud rap fell on the stout panel.

She glanced wildly around the room. “Who is it?”

“Laurel, open this damn door.” Adron’s voice held anger and stern command.

Almost paralyzed with dread, she began to scoop the jewelry back into the case.