Chapter Seven

R uadh stopped at two inns before he was able to confirm, at the third, that he was on the trail of the carriage in which Rose had been taken away from him. He had been riding for the past thirty minutes with increasing doubt that his initial guess was correct, so what the grooms in the third inn had to say was a great relief.

Not only had they seen a carriage that met the description of the one Mattie had described, but they had all heard the racket that arose from it. Banging, shouting. A woman's voice calling for help. "Oi've been abducted," one of the group screeched in imitation.

The driver and grooms had explained that their master's wife had descended into madness and was being taken home to their manor where she could do herself no harm.

Good for Rose. She had made sure that her rescuers could follow her.

"The lady in the carriage is, in fact, my betrothed," he told the grooms. "She has been abducted, together with my grandfather. I am on my way to retrieve them both, and I want your fastest, most reliable horse." He patted Nate's horse, who had done sterling service. "This fine fellow belongs to the Earl of Lechton. Look after him well, and I will collect him on the way back."

Within ten minutes, he was on his way again, on a horse the stable master assured him could outlast anything else in the stables. He'd broken his fast with a pie and a flagon of light ale, and he knew what inn the carriage he pursued was most likely to stop at next.

"If it's to Weatherstone Hall they're going, my lord," the innkeeper had said, "then the Rose and Thorn is halfway between here and there and is the one the quality use."

Sure enough, they had been there, only ninety minutes before him. Rose had made the same kind of noise and the driver had told the same sorry tale to explain it. Again, Ruadh cajoled out of them the best horse they had, and also directions for the fastest route to Weatherstone Hall.

Perhaps the Countess of Hardwicke and her accomplice had taken a different route or changed horses at different inns on this route, for nobody he questioned had seen either of them. However, the inns on this route were very busy. The carriage was much like any other, and if the countess did not insist on her title, she might not have been noticed.

The valet, with his pale coloring, was more noticeable. Perhaps he had stayed in the carriage. Perhaps they were taking their time and Ruadh had passed them along the way. He wouldn't see them on this route, which was fit only for a rider, but that didn't matter. What was important was getting to Rose and his grandfather.

Only when he knew what he was up against could he make a plan to bring them safely away. He would claim to be sketching, he decided. That would give him a reason to ask about local sights, including local great houses, and would mean he could loiter without people wondering at his presence.

He stopped in a town just a couple of miles from Weatherstone Hall to change horses again. He'd need to leave the new horse at the inn in the village near the manor, and he wanted no rumor of a long-distance traveler from London to reach the ears of Lady Hardwicke and her lover.

He had been in the saddle for five hours when he reached the village. He'd ridden past the gates of the manor just five minutes down the road, and every fiber of his being demanded that he storm the place there and then, but he stuck to the plan: Set up a cover story. Return surreptitiously to Weatherstone Hall. See if he could find out where his beloved was being held. Count the number of servants and investigate the lay of the land.

After that, he could decide whether to act on his own, approach the local magistrate, wait for Stancroft, or something else.

He paid for a room for the night and stabling for his horse. "I may stay one night or several," he told the innkeeper, a cheerful woman in her middle years. "I fancy sketching hereabouts. Indeed, I must away this minute, for I saw such a pretty bridge on my way into the village that I nearly stopped straight away. But I lose track of time when I am sketching, and the poor horse, you know. I thought it best to stable the beast. I shall be back for dinner, I expect."

The innkeeper commented that the bridge down by the manor was right pretty and that dinner would be a nice leg of lamb, and perhaps a fish pie.

Ruadh was already sauntering away as she sent her good wishes after him. As soon as he was out of sight of the inn, he slipped into the nearby field and ran in the shelter of the hedgerow until he reached the manor walls.

They were easy to climb, and the woods on the other side ranged to within a hundred yards of the back of the house. He stopped on the edge of the woods to decide his next move. He could see the stable yards off to one side, where horses were being released from a carriage—not the one he had been chasing, which had yellow wheels, so presumably, it was the one that had brought Lady Hardwicke and Wolfenden here.

Something white flapped on the third level of the house and caught his eye. He narrowed his eyes to sharpen his vision. A large patch of cloth. A sheet, perhaps? And on it, a shape, a pink outline. He had to get closer to confirm what his eyes were telling him, but he was almost certain the shape was a rose—an English rose, with four petals. His clever Rose was signaling her location.

*

After the long journey, his sponge bath, and half a bowl of broth, Lord Hardwicke slept. The attendant brought Rose fresh water to refresh herself and a plate of bread, cheese, and fruit—berries, which Rose realized could be used to make a sign for whoever came looking for her.

"Is there anything else you need, Lady Rosalind," the attendant asked.

Rose was anxious for him to go, so she could make her sign. "Nothing at the moment."

"Please ring the bell, my lady, if you think of anything," said the attendant.

As soon as the door shut behind him, she spread a spare white sheet out on the floor and squashed berries into it in the shape of a rose, four petals, and a circle of dots in the center to represent the stamen and pistils.

She shut the window on the sheet, which flapped and should attract attention. Unwanted attention perhaps, but here at the back of the house, perhaps it would remain in place long enough to be seen by those who were coming to her rescue.

After that, she had nothing to do but wait, but it could not have been more than ten or fifteen minutes before there was a knock on the door. The attendant had returned with a footman who said he was here to escort her to Lady Hardwicke.

Rose briefly contemplated refusing, but he was much bigger and brawnier than her. Her dignity would be better served by pretending she was responding to a polite invitation. She asked the attendant to look after Lord Hardwicke, and sailed out of the room past the footman, keeping the poker she had purloined from the fireplace hidden in her skirts.

"Which floor?" she demanded.

They were in the drawing room—both Lady Hardwicke and Wolfenden, standing on the other side of the room by a side table. Rose entered at the end of an argument, which they stopped when they realized they had an audience.

"…never have brought her," Lady Hardwicke was saying.

"She would have raised the alarm. Better to get rid of her here, away from discovery." That was Wolfenden.

"We can't…"

We can't what ? Lady Hardwicke had realized that Rose and the footman had arrived, and stopped speaking, leaving Rose to wonder whether Lady Hardwicke was against killing her or whether she had some other objection to Wolfenden's plan.

"Lady Rosalind," Lady Hardwicke said.

Rose gave an abbreviated curtsey. "Lady Hardwicke." She decided to take the initiative. "Lord Hardwicke would benefit from my calendula and honey ointment. Unfortunately, I left too suddenly to collect the pots I had ready, but if your tenants can supply honey and the calendula flower heads, I will make some more. It is best if the flowers are slowly steeped in oil, but I can produce an effective balm without doing so."

The two villains were gaping at her.

Best to keep talking. If she assumed she was here for their convenience, they might go along with it. "You brought me here, I assume, to nurse his lordship, and I am willing, but I will need supplies."

That shook them from their surprise, but not in a good way. Lady Hardwicke complained, "Lord Hardwicke has a nurse, and does not need a silly girl." At the same time, Wolfenden growled, "You inserted your nose where it was not wanted, and I brought you here to silence you. Permanently."

Inside, Rose quailed. She scorned letting her fear show. "Do you think for a moment that your abduction of me was not observed? From one of the houses, or from the mews? I daresay my brother is on his way even as we speak."

Since they had been at a ball the night before, she would not have been missed until late morning, and it was now mid-afternoon. She did not have much hope of Peter finding her trail immediately, or even today, though she knew he would not give up, and neither would Ruadh. "My betrothed will be with him, I expect. I am to marry Lord Merrick."

"I think not, little bastard," said Wolfenden. He reached behind him, and when his hand appeared again, it held a dueling pistol, which must have been on the table. "You will be buried in the woods long before they figure out where you have gone."

Rose felt her head spin and the voices of her abductors appeared to come from a long way away. She could not faint! Lord Hardwicke needed her. She would not faint! She stiffened her weak knees and prepared to throw herself out of the way as soon as Wolfenden's eyes showed he was about to shoot. She would see his intent in his eyes, would she not? The heroine always did in Viv's horrid novels.

"Wolf, darling," said Lady Hardwicke. "Surely there is another way."

"We are so close, Yvonne," the valet told her. "We have sacrificed so much, and we are on the brink of success. You and I and the child will have it all. We cannot stop now. She could have us hanged, my love. She must die."

Lady Hardwicke looked at Rose and then at her lover. "I do not like it. I wish you had not pushed her into the carriage."

He made an impatient sound. "We must deal with what is, not with what we would like," he told her. "She is here, and she is a mortal danger to you and to the child."

Rose did not expect the next voice that joined the conversation. Now her knees did almost give out, and she had to grip the edge of the closest table for support.

"Not, however, as mortal a danger as I am," said the newcomer.

Ruadh ! He must have entered from the window, for he stood just inside the room, his pistol trained on Wolfenden. "It has two bullets," he told the valet. "I can shoot you and your paramour without reloading."

"But can you shoot me before I shoot Lady Rosalind?" sneered Wolfenden. Still, his voice shook, and so did his hand. His forehead suddenly glistened with sweat and his eyes had gone wild.

Ruadh, by contrast, was rock steady.

Not so Rose, whose stomach felt as if it was about to return her last meal. But as she squeezed her hands into fists she felt the poker that she still held. Time to change the rules of the game. She threw the poker at Wolfenden and flung herself sideways.

The poker landed with a clang that was almost drowned out by the bark of two pistols—Wolfenden had flinched as he pulled the trigger, and his bullet flew into the ceiling. Ruadh did not flinch.

Lady Hardwicke screamed and dropped to her knees beside her lover. Ruadh held his pistol steadily on the pair of them, but his other arm was open until Rose ran into it, to be held tightly to his side.

"He is dead! You have murdered him," Lady Hardwicke lamented.

Two menservants hurried into the room and stopped short at the sight of their mistress weeping over the dead body of their master's valet, while Ruadh stood with a smoking pistol aimed at them both.

*

"I am Lord Merrick, Lord Hardwicke's grandson," Ruadh told them. "I have come to rescue my betrothed, who was kidnapped by Lady Hardwicke. Lord Stancroft, my soon-to-be brother-in-law, will be here soon with the magistrate. Until then, I want Lady Hardwicke watched at all times. She is not permitted to leave this room." The footmen stared at him for a moment, cast a glance at Lady Hardwicke, who was weeping over Wolfenden, and then chorused, "Yes, my lord."

"If you can fetch the pokers, my love," said Ruadh, "I shall secure the guns and make sure there are no more in the room. Then we can check on my grandfather."

"He was asleep when I left him a few minutes ago, Ruadh," Rose told him, as she collected herself and then the poker from upstairs and all the fire irons in the decorative holder by the drawing-room fire. "The attendant with him appears to be kind and competent."

Ruadh had found the pair to the pistol Wolfenden had used. "There are no more weapons," he confirmed.

He gestured to the door and Rose led the way out of the room. "Lord Hardwicke is in the old nursery," she told him. "This way."

Ruadh followed her past several gaping servants and up the stairs, but as soon as they were on the nursery floor, he swept her into his arms. "I was so frightened for you," he admitted.

"I knew you would come for me," Rose told him. "I am glad you came so quickly, for Wolfenden gave me a few worried moments." She was understating the case, for Ruadh could feel her quivering in his arms and her heart still pounded from the fear of Wolfenden's threats. Ruadh held her closer.

His mouth descended on hers and his hands pressed her against his body. He was breathless and shaking with need when he withdrew his mouth enough to speak. "I thought I had lost you," he declared. "I hope you do not want a long betrothal, Rosalind Ransome, for I cannot bear to be parted from you."

"As soon as you like," Rose told him, which warranted another kiss, even deeper and more wild than the last.

"This week, if I can manage it," Ruadh decided.

Rose was alive and well and in his arms, and that was all Ruadh wanted to concern himself with. But they still had his grandfather to look after, a houseful of servants of questionable loyalties to handle, a wicked step-grandmother—was that an appropriate thing to call her when the woman was no more than his age?—to deal with, and a magistrate to find.

In short, he could not take his caresses and hers where he dearly wished he could. Back to duty. "Let us go and check on my grandfather. We have a murderess countess to deal with and a wedding to arrange." Indeed, his bride-to-be was pink and tousled, and he had to look elsewhere or he would lose all sense of place and time.

"Which room is my grandfather in," he asked.

He was pleased to see that, as a result of his kisses, she had to blink several times and give her head a swift little shake before she could answer the question. "This way, Ruadh."

The old man was still asleep. The attendant sat near the head of his bed, quietly reading, but stood when they entered the room. Ruadh introduced himself, keeping his voice down so as not to disturb his grandfather.

"I am Merrick, Lord Hardwicke's grandson, and I am taking over responsibility for his care. Once he has rested, I intend to take him back to London, and from there, by easy stages to Scotland. My betrothed, Lady Rosalind, here, tells me she has found you kind and competent. I would be pleased if you continued to care for him as long as he is here, and longer if it pleases you."

"Lady Rosalind is very generous to say so," the attendant said. "May I ask the reason for the change? The butler appointed me, but I was told his instructions came from Lady Hardwicke, and that Lord Hardwicke would be remaining here."

"Lady Hardwicke does not have my grandfather's best interests at heart," Ruadh said, harshly.

The attendant looked uncertain, and well he might. He had only Ruadh's word for what must seem an arbitrary change in plans. But before Ruadh could say anything more, he was interrupted by a thunderous knocking on the door two stories below, followed by a voice Ruadh recognized, shouting Rosalind's name.

"Peter," Rose said even as Ruadh commented, "Stancroft."

"Your brother made better time than I expected," Ruadh commented.

Sure enough, Stancroft had arrived, with several friends and more than a dozen retainers. Also, it transpired, the local magistrate. The man was determined to keep an open mind, even after Ruadh explained the circumstances under which he had shot Wolfenden. "I will need to listen to Lady Hardwicke's side of the story, my lords," he insisted.

But the footmen had disobeyed Ruadh's instruction and allowed Lady Hardwicke to retreat to her bedchamber. When they went up to Lady Hardwicke's room her door was locked on the inside, and when they broke down the dressing room door, they found her dead on her floor, an open vial labeled prussic acid on the table next to an empty glass. There was no note.

Since the magistrate insisted on them staying until after the coroner's inquiry into the deaths, Stancroft took Rose off to order rooms at the nearby inn. Ruadh wanted to howl, to bay like a wolf in protest at the separation, but Stancroft had the right of it. She couldn't stay here with him.

At least, if her backward glance meant what he thought it did, she felt as torn apart as he did. Ruadh needed to talk to Stancroft about that fast wedding.

A short time later, he walked down to the village to join Rose and her brother for dinner at the inn. A constable stood guard over the two bodies. Lord Hardwicke and his attendant were guarded by one of the servants Stancroft had brought with him, and Ruadh was not needed until the inquest in the morning.

There was a fourth at dinner. Stancroft's friends had returned to London, but David Wakefield, the inquiry agent, had remained. "I have some information that may be relevant to the inquest," he told Ruadh. "Lady Hardwicke and her lover were overconfident. Most of the servants in the townhouse heard them talking to one another and to your grandfather, and some were willing to give evidence. Of course, it won't be necessary, now. But I will be able to tell the coroner that they intended to keep Lord Hardwicke helpless, while hiding his condition from the outside world, until such time as they had a son they could pass off as Lord Hardwicke's."

"Wolfenden kept insisting I must be killed because I was a threat to Lady Hardwicke and the child," Rose commented. "Do you suppose she was with child?" She was visibly distressed at the thought. "Why on earth did they leave London, and take me?"

"They thought he was isolated, and easy prey, Lady Rosalind," Wakefield commented. "Your friendship with him must have been maddening. When Lord Merrick turned up, their whole scheme threatened to become unraveled. Removing Lord Hardwicke from London was an act of desperation. Kidnapping you and bringing you along was stupid. Neither Stancroft nor Merrick was going to accept you had simply disappeared."

Ruadh exchanged a nod of agreement with Stancroft. Wakefield had that right.

"As it happened," Stancroft told Rose, "Lady Macclesfield, in the house next door to the Hardwickes, saw you being abducted. Apparently, she thought it was a maid misbehaving, and went back to her ablutions. But after she was dressed, she had convinced herself that the maid was unwilling and decided it was her civic duty to make inquiries, so she sent a footman along the row to ask if anyone was missing a maid. When we realized you were missing, Arial went straight along to ask exactly what she had seen."

"I was in the Hardwicke kitchen, talking to the servants," Wakefield said, "pursuing my inquiries. So, when the Macclesfield footman arrived, I already knew that Lady Hardwicke and Wolfenden had left early, by carriage, taking Lord Hardwicke in another carriage. I went next door to ask Stancroft if he knew who the maid might be and found him sending messengers to his friends to set up a rescue party."

"Then your lad arrived, Merrick, with confirmation they were heading in this direction. We can't have been much behind you, but from the sound of things, that half hour might have made all the difference to Rose." Stancroft shuddered, and so did Rose.

Ruadh wondered how to raise the topic of an early wedding. In the end, Stancroft did it for him, as they were sitting over a last glass of wine at the end of the meal. "Rose tells me you plan to go home to Galloway as soon as possible and take your grandfather with you," he said. "What do you intend to do about your betrothal?"

Direct and honest. Ruadh liked it. "Marry Rose by license, if she is willing and with your consent," he replied. "I do not want to leave her, Stancroft."

"Rose?" Stancroft asked.

Rose's answer was in her starry eyes and the smile that spread across her face, but she gave the words anyway. "Yes, Ruadh. I will marry you. As soon as it can be arranged."

Stancroft nodded. "Good. There's no way to stop the Macclesfield woman from talking, but at least we can make it clear that Rose was kidnapped by a pair of wicked would-be murderers and rescued by her betrothed, who by the time we tell her story will be her husband. It will be a nine-days' wonder and long over when next you come to London. It won't hurt Rose's reputation and it may enhance Vivienne's, since she may be supposed to have inside information about the whole adventure, so she will be invited everywhere."

Rose chuckled. "Which Viv will like, and I would hate."

When dinner was over, Stancroft and Wakefield left the happy couple alone in the private parlor for ten minutes, and after that, Ruadh walked back to his grandfather's estate at charity with the world.

At the inquest the following morning, Ruadh and Rose both gave evidence and so did Wakefield. The coroner questioned the carriage driver and grooms, who supported Rose's account, though they claimed they believed Rose to be the lunatic Wolfenden had claimed.

The only new facts came from the doctor, who was able to confirm that Lady Hardwicke had not been pregnant and that she had taken hydrocyanic cyanide, more commonly known as prussic acid. Ruadh supposed the woman had been lying to her lover as well as everyone else.

The jurors did not take long to return the expected verdicts. Wolfenden had been shot to prevent him from killing Lady Rosalind Ransome and in self-defense, and Lady Hardwicke had poisoned herself.

Wakefield returned to London after the inquest, with messages that he promised to deliver to the Hardwicke household and to Stancroft's countess. Ruadh, Rose, Stancroft, and Lord Hardwicke left the next day and traveled by easy stages back to London, giving Lord Hardwicke a break from the carriage at each change of horses.

Ruadh had offered the attendant who had been looking after Lord Hardwicke a bonus for continuing in the role until they were at home in Galloway, and he was able to appoint someone permanent for the position. For Ruadh had asked Lord Hardwicke if he indeed wished to come home with him and Rose, and the old man had tearfully agreed.

It was evening by the time the carriages pulled up in front of the Stancroft townhouse, and before long they were all being welcomed back, even Ruadh receiving a warm hug from Lady Stancroft and Lady Vivienne, and an enthusiastic handshake from Miss Turner.

Lord Hardwicke stayed to meet them all, and then his attendant and one of the footmen carried him up to the room that had been prepared for him. "Thank you for having him to stay, my lady," Ruadh said to Arial. "I am reluctant to trust Lady Hardwicke's servants with his care. I have already fired the footmen and grooms who helped to abduct Rose, and I'll be interviewing the rest of them tomorrow, to see who can be trusted. It might be that we need a clean sweep, but since my grandfather is coming to Galloway with me and Rose, I only need a caretaker staff next door."

"Call me Arial," said the lady. "You will be my brother before the end of the week. Wakefield dropped off the common license this evening, so now it is only a matter of booking the church at a time to suit the vicar."

"And I'm Viv, and he's Peter and she's Pauline," said Lady Vivienne, pointing to her brother and then her stepsister. "Now tell us what happened. Peter's letter was very frustrating. ‘Rose is safe and so is Lord Hardwicke. Lady Hardwicke and Wolfenden are both dead. Lord Merrick and Rose are to be married.' That is not a story. It's a laundry list."

Peter laughed, but he agreed. "Rose, you should start, since you were in it first."

They took turns to tell their parts of it, until Ruadh ended with, "I suppose we will never know what set them fleeing. I suppose they realized I was not fooled by Wolfenden's little masquerade and thought I might give up if they were gone. Taking Rose made certain I would never give up, however."

They discussed it a little further, but really, there was nothing to add.

As Arial said, "It is all very sad, but now it is over, and we have a wedding to look forward to."