Chapter Eleven

Augustus Shackleford was unusually quiet during the journey back to Cottesmore. Despite Chastity's declaration that what happened had not been his fault, he couldn't help feeling responsible. If he'd have taken up Harding's offer of sanctuary, Mercedes would not have been put in a such a precarious position. If anyone found out that she'd spent the better part of two nights alone with a man … well, a good match was the last thing she'd make.

And what if the blackguard Reinhardt did show his face again? If he did, it would no doubt be in London. Her father couldn't provide Mercy with bodyguards everywhere she went – that would cause a scandal in itself. Neither could the Earl be on hand every time she stepped outside the door. Mayhap he would have her forego the season, but if he took such a step, he would very likely be condemning his daughter to lifelong spinsterhood.

And Mercedes Stanhope deserved to be mistress of her own home with a man who would cherish and take care of her. The Reverend gave himself a mental shake. He knew he was being fanciful. Ton marriages seldom came with such considerations – in truth, his daughters had all been uncommonly lucky. But nevertheless, she deserved to have what might be her last opportunity.

Reverend Shackleford came to a decision. He would accompany her to London. No one would question a man of the cloth, especially when that man was her grandfather. And whilst they were there, he'd deuced well find out where Reinhardt was holed up and put an end to the varmint.

For that he'd need the help of his son-in-law, Jamie Fitzroy. The Reverend knew that since Jamie had become a magistrate, he and Prudence spent the majority of their time in London. It wouldn't take much to convince both of them to help – especially as Pru would likely be in if she fell in…

But there was one more person vital to the success of a such a mission.

He needed Percy.

It had been far too long since the two of them had done a spot of sleuthing together. Reverend Shackleford oft felt guilty that the responsibilities of the parish had by and large been taken over by his curate. Naturally, his guilt did not extend to taking them back, but nevertheless, the Reverend felt it was time for Percy to put his responsibilities aside for a time and have a little excitement.

Of course, the possibility that searching the streets of London for a madman with a penchant for kidnapping young ladies might actually be his curate's worst nightmare, simply never occurred to him…

***

As he read Augustus Shackeford's missive, Percy Noon felt as if a large hand was tightening gigantic fingers around his heart. The Reverend's strongly worded request to accompany him to London had taken the curate back to their last disastrous visit to the Capital - although, in all fairness, it hadn't been quite so disastrous for King George, since their interference in his coronation had actually prevented the monarch's assassination – but nevertheless, Percy still found himself waking up in a cold sweat from nightmares in which he'd been trying to force himself through endless crowds surrounding Westminster Hall in time to prevent the King's murder.

And now, of course, there was Finn. Even if he found someone to take over the parish services, how could he leave Lizzy to deal with Finn on her own? The lad was busy finding his feet, and as his self-confidence grew, so did his proclivity for mischief. Without a father's hand, Percy very much feared the boy would run rings around his mother.

Putting the letter down, the curate put his head in his hands. He couldn't simply ignore his superior's entreaty, and what was worse - if he was being entirely honest with himself, there was even the tiniest hint of anticipation at the thought of once again being embroiled in some havey cavey business.

The Reverend had not written what the havey cavey business actually was, but Percy knew it was something to do with Mercedes. An explanation would be forthcoming once they were in London. Fortunately, that wasn't going to be for another couple of weeks, so at least Percy would have the chance to prepare Lizzy and locate a temporary replacement – or in the Reverend's words, ‘Find someone in the village who can read, and hand him a Bible.'

Some things never changed…

***

‘I thought you hadn't known much about Mercedes' mother,' Chastity said carefully when they were finally in the privacy of their bedchamber. She was folding her clothes away, having dismissed her personal maid early.

This was the first opportunity they'd had to discuss Reinhardt. In the initial euphoria of having Mercy back, both Christian and Chastity had deliberately kept the conversation away from the subject of her near abduction – predominantly because they didn't want the twins to be alarmed.

Although the Reverend had maintained his Friday face throughout most of the meal in protest at being kept in the dark, Mercy herself had seemed more than content to leave any serious discussions until the morrow.

To Chastity's surprise, her stepdaughter had seemed less than enthused about her safe return to Cottesmore and was quiet and withdrawn throughout dinner. At first, Chastity had thought her traumatised, but as the evening went on, she didn't think that was the case. It was more as if Mercy was deep in thought - and having seven sisters who'd sported similar faces when contemplating tying their garter in public, Chastity was understandably filled with some disquiet.

Fortunately, Agnes had inadvertently kept the younger ones entertained with a lurid description of the time a seagull dropped a winkle in her ear, so Chastity's careful observation of her stepdaughter went largely unnoticed. Except by her husband of course. Indeed, Christian had expected Mercy's preoccupation to be the first thing they talked about after retiring, but like most women, Chastity had surprised him by her opening gambit.

Sighing, he sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘In the letter she left, Mercy's mother declared she had consumption. I couldn't simply abandon her to her fate. At the very least, I owed it to my daughter to ensure her mother was taken care of.' He looked down at his hands. ‘I hired a private detective to investigate her whereabouts. That private detective was Oliver Reinhardt.'

Chastity frowned, sitting beside him. ‘I thought you said he was a gambler?'

‘He was, though I didn't know it at the time. He was recommended to me by an acquaintance – one who apparently owed Reinhardt a lot of money. The bastard didn't confine his games to the tables. I found out later that he was acquainted with Mercy's mother. Had even possibly been one of her clients. He'd known where she was from the onset, though he led me a merry dance with his supposed investigation.' Christian paused, passing his hand wearily over his face. Clearly the memory was distressing. Chastity said nothing, allowing him to speak.

‘She was being taken care of by a Catholic mission. By the time I got to her, she was very close to death and far too frail to be moved. Reinhardt had been playing me for weeks while Mercedes lay slowly dying in a cold cell. I've never felt so helpless. All I could do was give the nuns enough coin to ensure she was as comfortable as possible. I visited her daily. I sat there, staring at the face of a woman I hardly knew but who'd actually borne me a child...' Chastity gripped his hands as she spied tears gathering in the corner of his eyes.

‘I told her how I would look after our daughter. Described in detail the life she would have. I didn't really believe she could hear me, but then, one day, she gripped my jacket and pulled me closer to her, trying to tell me something.'

‘What was it?' Chastity asked, intrigued despite herself.

Christian sighed again. ‘I never found out. By then she was just drifting in and out of consciousness, drenching the sheets with blood during every coughing fit. I left, and when I returned the next day, she'd gone. I identified the body and had her interred in a grave with a proper headstone. It felt like far too little too late.'

Chastity leaned towards him and gently kissed him on the mouth. ‘You did what you could,' she murmured. ‘If she'd come to you earlier, I'm certain you would have helped her.' She touched his face. ‘What happened with Reinhardt?'

The Earl grimaced. ‘He came for his money. It was only afterwards one of the nuns told me he'd been visiting her for weeks – long before I turned up. They seemed to think she may have had something of his.

‘And then I was told he'd been with her when she died. Apparently, she'd drowned in her own blood as he'd tried to force some information out of her – what, I have no idea.' He shook his head, and clenched his fists, turning to face Chastity and saying harshly. ‘I left the mission, went to find Reinhardt, and beat him within an inch of his life.

‘Not long after that, I booked passage for England.' He stopped and sighed before adding. ‘I have never heard his name mentioned since I left him broken in an alley… Until yesterday.'

‘Why do you think he was looking to abduct Mercy? Could it have been revenge?' Chastity asked.

Christian shook his head. ‘I thought about his motives during the carriage journey this morning. That he hates me I've no doubt. But right from the onset, he seemed a singularly cold individual. He might be enjoying the thought of exacting revenge, but it's not his primary motivation – just an added bonus.

‘No, there's another reason he wants Mercy, and I can't help but think it has something to do with her mother.'

‘Did you discover anything else about her? Could she have come from a wealthy family perchance? I mean, with what you've told me of Reinhardt, it seems likely that his interest would have been purely mercenary.'

Christian grimaced. ‘It may have been remiss of me, but I didn't seek to find out whether she had any family. I didn't wish to risk there being another claim on Mercy. She was my daughter, and that's all there was to it.'

Chastity smiled and leaned forward to kiss him. ‘You've been a wonderful father to all our children.'

Her husband gave a rueful grin. ‘I can just about cope with four.' He leaned forward to deepen the kiss, but she pulled back.

‘What do you intend to do about Reinhardt? I can't imagine you'll simply leave him to his devices. If he does have some nefarious scheme in play, he's unlikely to stop at one try.'

Christian nodded. ‘The more I think about it, the more certain I am that we've not seen or heard the last of him.' He paused, then added, ‘I'm not sure I should allow Mercy this season. But if I don't…' he left the rest unsaid, and Chastity sighed in understanding.

‘I'll speak with her, of course, but I'm of a mind to contact Nick and Adam for their reaction. Whatever happens, I cannot simply leave Reinhardt to his own devices. Somehow, we have to draw him out into the open.'

Chastity felt her heart constrict at his words. ‘We can't put Mercy at risk, Kit.'

He shook his head and lifted his hand to touch her cheek. ‘You know I wouldn't do anything to put any of you in danger, my love. I'll find a way to catch the bastard without risking everything I hold dear.' He bent forward to kiss her, but again Chastity pulled back, leaving him regarding her with raised eyebrows.

‘Did you notice that Mercy seemed very preoccupied at dinner?'

To her surprise, he laughed. ‘There's the question I was waiting for.'

Chastity frowned, ‘Was I that obvious?'

‘Only to me darling. I noticed too. Perhaps she's simply anxious.'

Chastity shook her head. ‘No, that wasn't the look she had on her face. It was the look of someone planning something.'

‘And naturally, that's an expression you're very familiar with,' he returned drily. His wife nodded and frowned.

‘This Viscount Carlingford – was he very disfigured?'

Christian thought for a second. ‘Well, he wouldn't go unnoticed at a ball, let's put it that way.'

‘But is it possible that a young, sheltered woman might be taken with him?'

Her husband regarded her steadily. ‘Are you asking me if she's formed an attachment to Harding?'

‘Well, has she?'

‘There was no evidence of it,' he answered carefully, ‘though being a man, I'm oblivious to such nuances. He's certainly no oil painting now, but I believe he might have been considered handsome before his injury.'

Chastity frowned again. ‘You say his pockets are to let?'

‘Hasn't a feather to fly with.'

‘Do you think he's a good match for Mercy?'

‘What, despite the fact that he hasn't got the blunt to do even the most basic repairs to his property and has a face that's likely to give small children nightmares, you mean?'

She narrowed her eyes at him and nodded.

Christian opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again, his brow creased in thought. ‘I think our Viscount has a lot of demons,' he responded at length. ‘From what he told me, I believe he was the result of an affair his mother had whilst married to his father - and I think said father never let him forget it.

‘As far as I can tell, when his eldest son and heir died, Gerald Harding set about spending every penny he had – mostly on alcohol and gambling if I remember rightly. He left nothing but an almost derelict house and a title.' He paused and shook his head before adding, ‘I'd thought the title had lapsed to be honest.'

‘Did he tell you how he got his hideous scar?' The Earl shook his head.

‘Apparently, he told Mercy he received it at Waterloo.'

‘Ah, so he was confiding in her then.' Chastity narrowed her eyes.

‘I cannot think that meant anything. Clearly, they had to talk about something .'

Chastity sat in silence for a moment, pulling at the ribbon tying back her hair. ‘So, if we put aside possible Banbury stories, do you think Mercy's dowry would be sufficient to cover both the repairs to the house and allow him to keep her in relative comfort?' Chastity asked bluntly.

Christian shook his head at her with affectionate exasperation. ‘I think you're forgetting one thing, my love…' He paused as his wife regarded him quizzically. ‘We have no actual idea whether Viscount Carlingford actually wishes to get leg shackled…'