Ghost of the Thames (22 page)

As he drew alongside her, he looked at
her again. She was so clearly elated by the speed and power of the
steed he’d chosen for her. Like everything else, prior to today,
she couldn’t remember if she was a competent horsewoman or not. She
had no clue of her level of expertise.

Edward had taken a chance that she
would be an expert rider, but he made certain that the mount he’d
chosen for her—a strong and powerful mare—responded well to
commands. Still, his conjecture had been correct; she had been well
trained in all things young women of her age in this country were
taught and much more.

A bit of searching on Dickens’s part
had revealed that Catherine Sophia Warren was Arthur Warren’s only
child. Marrying late in life and having been widowed for over a
decade prior to his sudden death, he had doted on and treated his
daughter with the same passion as if she had been a son. Warren,
acting with curiously liberal thinking, had clearly wanted his
daughter to be an independent woman.

He had succeeded.

Sophy smiled at him, and Edward felt
the warmth of it in his heart.

“Guv’ner!”

He could see a man coming out from the
wooded space between the Row and the South Carriage Drive. He was
waving his arms at them and coming onto the track.

“Wait, sir!”

Instinctively, Edward put himself
between Sophy and the man. Walkers were generally not so far out
into the park this time of year, and the track had been laid out
for the sole purpose of riding.

Edward looked past the man. Sophy was
ahead of him. He could see, near the top of a slight incline, two
other hulking figures standing along the edge of the
Row.

“Wait! Stop a moment,” the man shouted
as they rode by.

Edward reined his horse in, but as he
turned, a cloaked rider flashed past him. Before he could spur his
stallion after the newcomer, however, the man on foot reached him
and grabbed at his mount’s bridle.

Furious, Edward slashed at his hand
with his riding crop, forcing him to release his grip. As he
whirled and kicked his horse into a gallop, he could see the other
rider was forcing Sophy toward the two men at the top of the rise.
Everything happened too quickly.

Ahead of him, the mounted man struck
Sophy with a short club. She slumped in the saddle, and he veered
off. As he did, one of the men at the side of the track stepped
forward, raised a pistol, and fired directly at Sophy as they
passed.

Edward saw the puff of smoke, heard
the crack of gunfire. He called out. Seeing him bearing down on
them, the two men turned and ran for the woods. The other rider
went through a break in the black iron fence that bordered the far
side of the track and quickly disappeared along a wooded path
toward the Serpentine.

Edward wasn’t interested in the
attackers right now, though, and he dug his heels hard into the
sides of his stallion. Sophy was bent low over her horse’s neck.
The shot had startled her mount, and they were still going at a
full gallop ahead of him.

He feared that she had been hit; the
man had been only a few feet from her when he fired.

They were quickly approaching the West
Carriage Drive at the end of the Row, and Edward could see the
drive was crowded with open and closed vehicles, as well as
equestrians.

There was no clear path for the
terrified animal, but the horse was too spooked to slow down. Sophy
did not appear conscious. Edward was some twenty lengths behind her
and closing fast when they reached the intersecting path. Her
chestnut steed cut through the crossing traffic, weaving between a
half dozen carriages and riders to the sound of curses, shouts of
warning, and screams. Edward followed hard on her heels.

He realized with a flash of panic that
the mare was not turning. Her only option at the far side of the
drive was to attempt to jump the spiked iron fence that divided
Hyde Park from Kensington Gardens. The rails, about six feet high
on that side, had points as sharp as lances at the top. They were
impossible for a horse and rider to clear.

He saw her stir, attempting to raise
herself in her saddle.

“Sophy
!” Edward’s shout was lost in the wind.

He saw her sit up and struggle to
regain control of the mare even as she tried to free herself from
the side saddle.

Low bushes and clumps of trees
preceded the rail. The same obstacles covered the Kensington side
of the fence. Even if she could clear the jump, there was no
landing space beyond.

Helplessly, Edward watched Sophy pitch
to the side, tumbling through the air toward the spiked fence as
the horse leaped high.

CHAPTER 25

Edward stood by the door with the
doctor.

The young serving woman who had helped
strip Sophy out of the riding outfit before the doctor arrived,
remained with her charge, hovering silently by the bed.

“It is a miracle, Captain,” the doctor
was saying, folding his spectacles and slipping them into his coat
pocket. They both looked back at her before going out.

No broken bones. No gunshot wound. She
was scratched, badly bruised, and she had a small egg-shaped lump
behind her ear, but she would recover. What she needed now was
plenty of rest, the doctor had said. The medicine she had been
given tasted horrible, but she was told it would make her
sleep.

Sophy didn’t want to be brought here
to his house on Berkeley Square, but in her dazed condition after
the fall, Edward had given her no choice.

As she lay in the bed, she ran through
the events of the attack in the park. She had been feeling on top
of the world riding the chestnut mare. She was truly happy to be
out in the bracing air with Edward. And as they rode along the wide
equestrian track, she had been daydreaming that perhaps, one day,
she’d be clear of her ethereal friend. She would remember who she
was, and there would be no secrets to keep away from Edward.
Perhaps, then, they would come together. As friends. As lovers.
She'd dared to dream even more.

Then, suddenly, there were faces, a
cloaked ruffian on horseback, strangers coming at her from nowhere.
The blow to the head had stunned her, but she hadn’t lost
consciousness before seeing a pistol fired directly at her chest.
She didn’t know how was it that she’d been able to duck and avoid
the bullet. But if the shock of that wasn’t enough, her horse had
proceeded to go mad with fear. Holding on to the mare’s neck and
trying to stay conscious and in the saddle was the best she had
been able to do. And then she had seen the fence.

Afterwards, Sophy remembered opening
her eyes and seeing bushes rising around toward a gray sky, and the
cold black iron of the fence spike pressing against one side of her
body. A half dozen heads were bent over her. Edward’s arms were
already around her.

Sophy’s first concern was the horse.
Edward told her that the animal had somehow cleared the fence,
crashing through the shrubs on the far side. The last anyone had
seen of her, the mare was still running in the direction of the
Round Pond.

There was a soft knock at the door and
Mrs. Perkins, Edward’s housekeeper, came in carrying a tray. The
young servant took it from the older woman and placed it next to
the bed.

“I will be staying with Miss Sophy,”
Mrs. Perkins told the young woman. “I’ll call you if I need
you."

The servant curtsied and went out as
Mrs. Perkins turned back to the bed.

“Captain Seymour had to leave for a
short while. A policeman has been waiting downstairs, but the
Captain wasn’t about to go until he’d spoken to the
doctor.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Perkins.”

“I thought a bowl of savory turtle
soup and cup of hot tea might warm you, my dear, before the
medicine starts to take affect.” She tucked extra pillows gently
behind her patient as Sophy tried to sit up in bed.

“I am truly well, now. I should be
going back.”

“You are not going anywhere, miss. The
Captain has instructed everyone at the house not to allow anyone in
or out while he is gone. In fact, there are two footman positioned
at each of the doors. And Mr. Reeves has organized all the other
servants, as well. Everyone is at their place, guarding doors and
windows from inside. And I am to sit by you in this room until he
gets back. We are a fortress under siege, my dear.”

“This is not because of me falling off
a horse, is it?”

“We know what happened. You were fired
upon by a band of villains,” Mrs. Perkins reminded her sternly. “We
heard all about it. Four men made an orchestrated attempt on your
life. I do not believe I have ever seen the master as angry as he
was when he left a few minutes ago.”

Sophy stared down at the tray as the
housekeeper arranged it on her lap. A small vase of flowers. Linen
napkin. The thoughtfulness in bringing this up for her was
touching. At the same time, there were people out there who wished
her dead. She tried to remember the faces of those she had seen.
None had looked familiar.

“Eat some of the soup or drink the tea
if you can, Miss Sophy, before they get cold. I don’t care what the
doctor says. You look too pale to me.”

Sophy sipped the tea. It tasted
heavenly. She looked up into the woman’s kind face and knew her
concern was genuine. The older woman sat on the edge of the bed.
The shades of gray woven into the tightly pulled black hair and the
wrinkles touching the corners of intelligent eyes were a reminder
of someone else she knew. A woman who was more a mother than a
servant. Priya.

“There is no formality necessary,”
Sophy said softly. “You don’t need to pretend that you don’t know
who I am. I am the same tattered creature who showed up at your
back step not even a month ago.”

Thin, aged fingers slipped into
Sophy’s hand, and she squeezed it gently before letting go. “I
know, my dear. But I also know that Captain Seymour almost killed
you with his carriage the first night. And I have been told of
everything else that has been discovered of your past since that
night. Any blind person could see your quality through the rags. I
knew you were from gentlefolk then, and I know it now. Nothing has
changed.”

Sophy blinked back tears. The medicine
was starting to take effect and her emotions were raw. The
continuous kindness she received because of Edward’s efforts was
overwhelming.

“Captain Seymour’s generosity astounds
me. I don’t believe there ever was or there will ever be another
person as fine and good as he.”

“Tell him that, my dear,” the
housekeeper encouraged. “After all the sadness and disappointment
he has gone through in the recent months, he needs to know that he
is making a difference.”

Sophy tried to move the tray, but her
arms suddenly lacked the strength.

“Would you be so kind as to take
this?” She watched the older woman put the tray on the side table.
“What do you mean sadness and disappointment?”

“Oh, he has not told you of his niece
Amelia?” She turned, a look of surprise on her face.

“No, he hasn’t.”

“Well, I think it would be best for
you to know.” Mrs. Perkins sat back down on the edge of the bed and
sighed deeply. “Amelia Ann Franklin is his niece. A lovely,
spirited girl. Sixteen years old. I’ve raised her just as I raised
Edward and his sister Sarah Ann.”

The housekeeper’s voice wavered. A
dark cloud descended over her features. She took a handkerchief out
of one pocket as if preparing for the wave of emotions that were
sure to follow.

“The dear child lost her father, a
Navy man like the rest of them. A commander he was. She was only
ten, poor thing. And then, even worse for all of us, three years
later, her mother Sarah died, too.” Mrs. Perkins paused a moment,
dabbing at her eyes. “She was left as Edward’s ward. Miss Sarah
knew she’d be better off with us than with the Admiral, Amelia’s
grandfather. He’s stationed on the other side of the world
somewhere.”

“But where is Amelia? What has become
of her?”

“The girl has disappeared. Three
months ago, she walked out the front door of this very house in the
company of a midshipman named Henry Robinson. How we were fooled by
such a seemingly fine lad, I’ll never know. But that was the last
we’ve seen of her. Almost three months without so much as a note or
anything. Not a sign of them anywhere since.”

“They eloped?”

“A person who didn’t know her might
well assume that to be the case. In a way, we all wish that it is
so, for any news of her would be better than none at
all.”

The older woman sat there silently for
a while, staring across the room before saying more.

“As fortune would have it, the
Captain’s ship was only a day out of Portsmouth. He arrived to our
terrible news. And he has done everything that could possibly be
done. Going up and down the coast, questioning everyone Henry could
have ever known, his family, his friends. He has established a
sizable reward, interviewing one and all who have come forward with
any news. All to no avail. The night he found you in his path, he
was coming back from one of those wild goose chases.”