* * * *
Meanwhile Lord Alton’s coach, heading in the opposite direction, rumbled across the Thames by the wooden bridge at Putney and was soon pulling up before the long facade of Hampton Court. The mellow red brick, three centuries old, looked warm and inviting in the sun.
Jamie and Terence were fascinated by the public apartments, where the collected furniture and pictures of generations of royal residents were displayed. Providing them with a guidebook, Lord Alton escaped their questions and joined Hester. The younger boys, bored, raced ahead.
“Oh dear, they are in a naughty mood today,” said Hester. “I had better follow before they get up to mischief.”
Sighing inaudibly, his lordship accompanied her.
Rob and Freddie had reached the end of the suite and were resting on a priceless French loveseat, contemplating an Italian Renaissance painting of Zeus and Leda.
“Outside!” commanded Lord Alton briefly. “The best thing we can do is to lose them in the maze,” he proposed to Hester.
They were only too willing to lose themselves between the high green hedges. Alone at last, Hester and his lordship wandered about the peaceful gardens until they came to a bench beside a lily pond, where they sat down.
Lord Alton suddenly found he had forgotten the speech he has prepared, in which he offered Hester his heart, his hand, his wealth, and his title. After a moment of blank dismay, he took a deep breath and had just opened his mouth to address the subject extempore when James and Terence appeared around the edge of a fancifully trimmed yew and strolled toward them.
“Where’s the maze, Uncle David?” called Terence, blithely unaware of what he was interrupting.
“It’s over there,” replied Hester, pointing. She had been conscious for some minutes of a certain strain in her companion’s bearing and was quite glad of the intrusion.
The youths veered away, but before they had taken many steps, they were met by their younger brothers racing across the daisy-studded lawn like a pair of frisky colts.
“Are you going to the maze?” cried Rob. “I found the way out.”
“No you didn’t,” objected Frederick. “I asked the man on the steps.”
“He only told us how to get to the middle. I found the way out.” By this point the boys had reached the bench by the pond.
“Didn’t,” said Freddy.
“Did,” said Rob.
“Didn’t,” said Frederick, and before uncle or sister could intervene, he gave his argumentative friend a shove.
A loud splash, and there was Rob sitting in the middle of the lilies. Exasperated beyond endurance, his lordship picked up his surprised nephew and threw him in as well.
“That was very silly,” said Hester severely. “Two wet children are
much
more trouble than one.”
“I’m sorry,” Lord Alton apologised sheepishly, giving the subdued boys a hand as they struggled out of the murky water. “I don’t know what came over me. I suppose we will have to go home at once.”
He looked so woebegone that Hester wanted to put her arms around him, hug him, and kiss away his sorrows.
“It’s no good crying over spilt milk, as Ivy would undoubtedly say,” she pointed out, trying to comfort him.
“She’d also have a dozen stories of relatives who died of a chill after a wetting on a summer’s day,” he replied gloomily.
“I’ve lost my shoe,” announced Frederick. “It was brand-new.”
Hester raised her eyes to heaven. “Well, you can’t get any wetter,” she decided. “Both of you go and look for it.”
There was no sign of the shoe, but Rob caught his foot in a hole and could not work it loose. With a despairing shrug, his lordship waded in and pulled him out, emerging wet and muddy to the knee and squelching in his once-glossy Hessians.
By the time they went after James and Terence, the attendant at the maze had left, and it took half an hour to extricate the pair.
It was a gloomy party that drove back over Hammersmith Bridge and took the byroads toward Paddington.
“An unmitigated disaster,” groaned Lord Alton as he lifted down a shivering Robbie and gave Hester his hand to descend from the carriage. “I did so want to give you a pleasant afternoon.”
“This time next week, we’ll be laughing about it,” prophesied Hester. “I think you had better make my excuses to Bella this evening. Dora and Bessie have the day off, and I do not want to leave Rob, though I’m sure he’ll come to no harm. I hope the wetting has not hurt your leg?”
“I think not.” He longed to bask in her sympathy, but decided that honesty was the best policy. “However, I’ll not go to Russell Square. I’ll send a message. May I call later to see how Robbie does?”
“Of course, though it is not at all necessary, I assure you. What he needs is a good hot bath.” She watched the coach drive off and hurried into the house. “Rob!” she called. “Get out of your wet things! And Jamie, help me heat some water, please!”
Jamie appeared from the parlour, shutting the door firmly behind him. “Guess who’s here?” he said. “Mr. Collingwood! Florabel let him in, hours ago.”
“Mr. Collingwood? Oh no! Don’t tell me Florabel has been entertaining him!”
“No, she is upstairs. You’d better come and see him, Hester. I’ll do Rob’s bath.”
“Thank you, dear.” She went into the parlour. “Mr. Collingwood, I am happy to see you, and sorry we were not at home when you arrived.”
He rose to greet her. No longer overcome by his sister’s death and his startlingly sudden love for Alice, he was a composed and prepossessing young man, though still rather solemn.
“Miss Godric, I apologise for arriving unexpectedly and for my intrusion. Did Alice not tell you I was coming?”
“No, she did not! Have you see her already?”
“I thought it best to come to your first. I do not wish to appear underhand or presuming in any way.”
“Allie has been pining for you, sir, and if you will wait a week or two after meeting, to be sure your feeling are unchanged, I can have no further objection to your marriage.”
Mr. Collingwood expressed his gratitude in suitable but lengthy terms. While he was doing so, Lord Alton was having a far more interesting conversation with a stable boy who had been sitting on his front steps in Hanover Square for several hours, undeterred by the efforts of Harding and three footmen to remove his disreputable person.
“So Oi delivers the missige, loike Oi says, an’ down come the young lidy an’ off up the street in a tearin’ ‘urry, an’ Oi follers ter go back ter work an’ she goes up ter this cove an’ shouts out ‘John Collingwood’ or sumfing an’ gets in the carridge an’ off they goes. An’ Oi knows as it weren’t this Collingwood ‘cos it were Sir Yubert loike Oi said. ‘E keeps ‘is ‘orses at the Phoenix same as you does. She din see ‘is face proper ‘cos ‘e ‘id it. An’ Oi knows it’s ‘er sister you got yer peepers on, not this ‘un, but Oi says ter myself, ‘is lordship’ll want ter know.”
“How right you are, Albert, in every way. Here’s a guinea for you. Now run back to the stables and ask Jerry to saddle Orangepeel and Jettison and meet me here immediately. You can tell your master that it’s my fault you missed your work this afternoon and I shall be extremely annoyed if he beats you for it. Hurry now!”
“Cor, ta, guv. Oi knowed you was a right ‘un, sure ‘nuff!”
Blessing the day Hester had taken in the chimney sweep, Lord Alton brushed aside his butler’s explanation of his difficulty in getting rid of the urchin and raced upstairs, two at a time, with a sense of
déja vu
. Susan was now the only Godric he had not been called upon to rescue, and he
had
saved her from the life of a nun. He could only hope that his efforts on Alice’s behalf would prove as successful.
Southwell blenched as he pulled off the muddy, sodden boots over whose shine he had laboured so long, but in a very few minutes his lordship was kitted out in his riding clothes and on his way with his groom back to Paddington.
Hester opened the door to him and was startled to see him so soon returned. One glance at his grim face, and she stood aside to let him in.
“What is it?” she whispered, her hand at her throat.
“Rathwycke has abducted Alice. He has several hours’ start, but I shall ride after him at once. Can you think where he might have taken her?”
“Grace said he took her to a house near Hitchin—no, Hemel Hempstead,” she replied, dry-eyed and steady-voiced. “I will come with you.”
“Out of the question. I must go as fast as I can. Yes, I’m sure Hertfordshire is his destination. It cannot be above five-and-twenty miles to that place of his. I suggest you send James with a note to Lady Bardry saying Alice will spend the night here. I shall bring her straight to you.” He turned to leave, unwilling to waste time on futile words of comfort while there was yet a chance to save her sister from ruin.
“Wait!” she said, opening the parlour door. “If I cannot go with you, there is someone here who should. Do you remember—”
“Collingwood!” How could he forget?
Chapter 18
Mr. Collingwood,” said Hester, still in a voice of unnatural calm, “Alice has been abducted. You must go with Lord Alton to rescue her.”
“If you think him more capable than I . . . !” exploded his lordship savagely.
“David!” She looked at him in surprise. “Of course I do not. There is no one I had rather trust with my sister’s safety than you. But Mr. Collingwood has a right. If you will not take him—”
“A right?” The light of dawning reason crept into his lordship’s eye. He remembered that Albert had said that Alice greeted her abductor as Collingwood, an incomprehensible fact he had dismissed.
“Miss Alice and I are betrothed,” explained the vicar stiffly. “Will someone please tell me what is going on?”
To his astonishment, Lord Alton seized his hand and wrung it heartily. Hester was no less taken aback.
“Congratulations, my dear man, I wish you very happy. The situation is that Sir Hubert Rathwycke has run off with your bride-to-be. I have horses outside, and I am sure my groom will be delighted if you choose to accompany me in his stead into Hertfordshire to rescue her.”
“Rathwycke? Was not that monster satisfied with ruining my sister?”
“Grace told you his name?” asked Hester.
“It was in her last letter, the only one I received. I wrote to him of her terrible end and of the fate that must have befallen her child had not you, Miss Godric, and my dearest Alice taken them in.”
Lord Alton’s eyes met Hester’s in a warning look. No need to torment the man with their suspicions that Rathwycke’s actions were in revenge for that revelation. The expression that succeeded the warning on his face made Hester blush and lower her gaze.
“Come,” said his lordship impatiently, “we must be off.” He supposed it was his duty to go to the aid of Collingwood’s betrothed before he swept his own beloved into his arms, but if he had believed that she would be able to spare a thought from her sister’s fate, he would have been very tempted to stay behind.
* * * *
Somehow the bright May afternoon seemed an inappropriate setting for a sinister abduction. Jettison’s strong legs ate the miles swiftly, and if it had not been for his apprehensive companion, matching stride for stride on Orangepeel, he might have burst into song or shouted to the breeze: “Hester loves me!”
After all, if she could read his eyes, now that the mists of misunderstanding were cleared, could he not read hers?
Through Watford they rode without stopping, then halted in Hemel Hempstead to water the horses and ask for directions. Twenty minutes later they were trotting up the drive of a small but pleasant-looking manor house.
“Tie them up,” ordered his lordship as he swung down from Jettison’s back and tossed the reins to the vicar.
Running up the steps, he threw the front door open without the formality of knocking, and entered the hallway. On his right was a closed door, on his left another stood ajar, and from the room within he heard a pleading voice. A masculine voice.
No one had noticed his arrival. He stood for a moment, adjusting his neckcloth and smoothing his hair, while a grin slowly spread over his face as he listened to the conversation. Then he pushed the door open and stepped coolly into a charming drawing room. The two people in it looked up.
“Thank God you’ve come!” ejaculated Sir Hubert Rathwycke.
Alice sprang up from a straight chair by the fireplace and threw herself upon his lordship, bursting into floods of tears. Distastefully, he extricated himself from her embrace and handed her over to Mr. Collingwood, who entered the room at that moment.
“Do take her away, there’s a good fellow,” he urged, pushing them gently through the door. Then he returned to Rathwycke.
“Would you believe she has been doing that every three minutes for the past two hours?” Sir Hubert exclaimed disgustedly. “The wretched girl’s a regular floodgate.”
“You had, I think, no obligation to expose yourself to her tears,” said Lord Alton mildly, sitting down.
“Damme, they don’t generally . . .” He stopped in some confusion as his lordship’s raised eyebrows allowed him to see the icy coldness of the blue eyes beneath.
“Why did you do it?” The ice had entered the voice.
“To get my own back. I suppose you know the story?” Sir Hubert attempted to sound languid, but succeeded only in displaying disgruntlement. “I cannot abide such sanctimonious snobs.”
“So you tried to seduce Miss Alice, and when she did not fall for your wiles, you abducted her.”
“Unsubtle, I agree. My revenge on her sister is much more adroit.”
Lord Alton, who was lounging in an easy chair, straightened imperceptibly, but all he said was, “Yes?”
“You may have met her so-called cousin Florabel Stevens? Haymarket-ware, and moving to Paddington did not change her habits. Though in general discreetly taking her business elsewhere, I do believe that for some time she has been, shall we say, entertaining there on Sunday evenings. Miss Godric’s house is little better than a brothel.”
If he had expected to provoke an outburst, he was disappointed. His lordship’s dropping lids hid the blazing fury in his eyes, and he merely looked bored.