Chapter Sixteen

By the time Mercy arrived in London, Viscount Carlingford's presence, as well as his disfigurement were both common knowledge. The fact that he was apparently betrothed to Lady Mercedes Stanhope however was still causing a stir.

For the most part, the gossips fell into three camps: Those who felt wholly sorry for the bride to be, given that she'd have to indulge in … you know what … with someone so disfigured. Those who were envious and spiteful since they considered the Viscount's bank balance and title to be of much more interest than his lack of a pretty face. And thirdly, those who found the thought of being intimate with someone quite so gothic deliciously thrilling…

On his arrival in London, Christian had immediately put the Viscount's name forward for White's. While Adam would willingly have done so already, it was felt that Mercy's father being the one doing the proposing would send the right signals to the rest of the ton . Thus, on the night of his fiancée's arrival, Nate found himself attending the exclusive club with two Earls, a Marquess, another viscount and a magistrate. For a man who six weeks earlier had been poaching his dinner, it all felt like a bag of moonshine.

However, he quickly realised that these men who'd won the hearts of the fabled Shackleford Sisters were no society poodles. They clearly had a close bond that they made no effort to hide.

His dinner at the Earl of Ravenstone's residence had gone surprisingly well. In fact, most of his interrogation had been conducted by the Countess, who'd seemed less interested in what he looked like, and more in how he intended to treat her niece. Naturally, the subject of Reinhardt had also come up, but any in-depth discussion had been put aside until the Earl of Cottesmore's arrival.

In fairness, his nerves on arrival at the club were much less than he'd previously feared. Most men present had no real interest in his scar, unless it was to pat him on the back for taking one on the chin against old Boney, and for the most part their group was left alone at their customary table in the corner.

‘Have you heard from Nick?' Gabriel, Viscount Northwood asked when their wine had been poured.

Christian nodded. ‘He assured me that he and Grace will be here by the month's end.'

‘Is our American friend likely to wait that long before he makes his move?' The Marquis of Guildford looked sceptical.

Christian grimaced. ‘I really don't know, Max. I haven't laid eyes on the bastard since before I left New York. I'd have thought that after his first attempt failed, he'll want to be very sure of success before he tries again.'

‘I have men watching out for an American matching Reinhardt's description,' Jamie Fitzroy, their resident magistrate informed them, ‘but as I see it, our two most pressing problems are that, firstly, we don't really know what he wants Mercy for, and secondly whether there is a time constraint on him achieving whatever it is that he wants. If we can discover either, it will help us predict his movements.'

‘I assume we're working on the theory that the more desperate he is, the more likely he is to make a mistake.' Nate surprised himself with his comment, though he was even more startled at his lack of deference in the presence of such exulted company – as well as their complete lack of condescension as they considered his comment.

‘Is there any way of finding out just what he's after?' Gabriel asked. ‘I mean we know that Mercy's a beautiful woman and a prime catch, but America's a bloody long way and I'd have thought there were plenty of wealthy heiresses waiting to be fleeced by an ivory tuner such as Reinhardt.' Nate realised the Earl must have shared the story of how he'd come to know Reinhardt with all of them.

‘There's something he wants,' agreed Christian. ‘I've spent hours thinking back to the days leading up to Mercy's mother's death, and I've come to the conclusion that she had something Reinhardt wanted. At first, I imagined she'd stolen something belonging to him, but why would he need Mercy?' He shook his head.

‘The more I think about it, the more I think there was more to Mercy's mother than I ever realised. She never told me her family name, and I never had any success locating anyone who knew it, though I confess I didn't try particularly hard. I assumed she'd been brought up on the streets, but since her English was at best broken, there was no way of knowing whether her family back in Mexico were poverty-stricken or not.'

He looked round at his silent companions. ‘What if they weren't? What if her family had been wealthy? She could have run away for a hundred different reasons.' He paused, gathering his thoughts.

‘I think Reinhardt knew her name, and I think he knew who her family were.'

‘You believe Mercy has an inheritance waiting for her.' Adam's words were not phrased as a question.

Christian nodded. ‘I do. The more I think about it, it's the only thing that makes sense.'

‘So, if Reinhardt marries Mercy, what's hers becomes his?' Max shook his head in disgust.

‘If that's the case,' Nate commented levelly, ‘then he's going to be all the more desperate to put an end to our engagement.' He looked round at the men surrounding him - friends he'd never thought he'd have – and added, ‘So if we wish to put an end to this, I suggest we give the bastard a compelling reason to show his hand.'

***

‘Jamie already has men on the lookout for this Reinhardt, based on the description you gave the sketch artist,' Prudence told her father. ‘I'm not sure what else he can do.'

‘Well, for a start, the fellow's not British,' Reverend Shackleford answered. ‘Are there any eating or lodging houses that favour visitors from the Americas? If there are, they'd likely be near the docks.'

‘I'm certain he'll have thought of that, Father. And I really don't think London Docks are quite the place for you and Percy.'

‘Tare an' hounds girl, who are you and what have you done with Prudence?'

‘She's the mother of two young children,' his daughter responded tartly.

‘Well, now you know how deuced difficult it is,' the Reverend hmphed, entirely unsympathetically.

Prudence pursed her lips. Deep inside, she was aware that she'd recently lost a little of what made her … well, whatever it was that made her Pru - exchanging monsters for household ledgers and ghost stories for gossip sheets. Though, in truth, this was the first time she'd had it pointed out to her. Did Jamie miss the old Pru? He never said.

Frowning, she stood up to pour the tea. ‘It would take weeks to visit every lodging house, pub and eating house – not to mention the dozens of brothels and dolly shops,' she declared brusquely. ‘You'd have better luck finding a needle in a haystack.' She handed the Reverend his tea and sat back down. For a second, she was silent, then gave a small cough before saying a trifle defensively, ‘Mayhap I could make one or two enquiries. I know our cook's nephew works at Wapping Dock. Perhaps he'll know of somewhere that favours travellers to and from the Americas. I assume Reinhardt will be looking for passage once he's managed to abduct Mercy?'

‘If he's got any sense, he'll already have it booked,' her father grunted. ‘And if he has, there should be a record of it.'

Prudence sipped her tea thoughtfully. ‘I'm certain Jamie already has men enquiring about ships bound for Boston or New York within the next few weeks. Though if the scoundrel's already booked passage, I doubt he'll have used his own name.'

She paused for a second before seemingly making her mind up. ‘You'll need to give me twenty-four hours. That should give the cook enough time to speak with her nephew.' She put down her dish and looked over at her father sternly. ‘If I so much as suspect you and Percy have been wandering London Docks before then, so help me, I'll have Jamie lock you both up in the nearest cell.'

Hiding his sudden excitement, the Reverend nodded solemnly, saying, ‘Crook my elbow and wish it never comes straight,' while crossing his fingers behind his back. In truth, he was thinking if he got back quick enough, he, Percy and Finn could head towards the docks this afternoon. He'd offer his apologies upstairs as soon as they had Oliver Reinhardt under lock and key.

‘You'll send me a message as soon as you've got something?' he asked nonchalantly, climbing to his feet.

Prudence looked at him narrowly. She might not be as reckless as she once was, but that didn't mean she was bacon brained enough not to recognise when her father was shamming it.

She stood up in turn, still eying him closely. ‘I'll send word. In the meantime, please try to stay out of trouble, Father.'

The Reverend gave her a wounded look but thought it best to scarper before he was forced to tell an even bigger plumper. The Almighty might forgive him one, but in the Reverend's experience, things tended to go very quickly to hell in a handcart if he tried to get away with two in the same conversation…

***

Pulling on her gloves and placing her bonnet over her artfully contrived curls, Mercy examined herself in the mirror. She was surprised to see how calm and serene she looked. Inside, she was almost shaking with excitement.

Today she was to see Nate again for the first time in over a month. Instead of lessening as she'd believed it might, the strange restlessness every time she thought of him had actually increased. The ache between her legs had been keeping her awake at night, so much so that she was beginning to wonder if there was something wrong with her. Indeed, in the depths of the night, after waking covered in a light film of perspiration, Mercy decided that at the very least she was going to have to somehow get him to kiss her. If that didn't put an end to the throbbing, then she very much feared she'd have to persuade her father to allow the wedding to take place as soon as possible.

How she was going to achieve such a thing surrounded by half a dozen chaperones, Mercy had no idea. Mayhap the answer was to simply plant herself onto his lap and press her lips to his. That it would achieve the desired result she had no doubt. With a small giggle, she picked up her reticule, feeling lighter than she had since she'd left Scotland. As she made her way downstairs, for the first time, she forgot entirely about Reinhardt.

Nate arrived at exactly four p.m. As he was shown into the drawing room, Mercy drew in her breath. She hadn't seen him looking all the crack before and hadn't suspected he had such a magnificent physique. The scar on his face, instead of making him repulsive, somehow added to his allure, giving him a roguish air. Like a pirate , she thought remembering her sister's comment at Cottesmore. Her heart was beating so loud she thought he must hear it as he bent to lift her hand to his lips.

‘You have changed, my lord,' she murmured breathlessly. He lifted his eyes and stared at her, his gaze suddenly hot and intent.

‘You have not, my lady,' he answered finally, hoarsely.

Mercy glanced at her stepmother, grateful Chastity was looking discreetly out of the window so missed her sudden blush.

‘Shall we?' At the Viscount's invitation, Chastity finally turned and gave him a warm smile.

‘Tempy and Hope are meeting us with the girls at the entrance to Kensington Gardens,' she said, pulling on her gloves.

Ordinarily Mercy would have been delighted to see her cousins, Roseanna, Francesca and Lilyanna, but that would make their party eight for goodness' sake. ‘Is Papa coming along too?' she couldn't help asking caustically, wondering if she should suggest a partridge in a pear tree.

Chastity grinned at her stepdaughter in complete understanding. Nate on the other thought she was referring to the feeling of safety her father provided. ‘Reinhardt will never show his face if you are surrounded by too many gentlemen,' he reminded her gently. ‘You have no cause for concern, my lady. I will not leave your side.' His words brought Mercy back down to earth with a bump. Biting her lip, she took his proffered arm and allowed him to lead her outside to the waiting barouche.

Once there, she immediately spied his horse at the front of the four horses champing at their bits. ‘Duchess,' she exclaimed happily, pulling off her gloves and going over to stroke the mare.

‘I couldn't leave her behind,' Nate explained with a chuckle. ‘Although judging by the bite marks on her three companions, she doesn't work well in a team.'

Mercy laughed, ‘And where is Ruby?'

‘With my housekeeper, Mrs. Lovell,' he told her. ‘She's been collecting admirers since she trotted through the door and was perfectly happy keeping a watchful eye on the slow roasting beef. The greedy madam has never eaten so well, and in truth, three novices promenading in Hyde Park was simply too much.'

‘Who's the third one?' Mercy quipped as he helped her into the barouche.

‘You have to ask?' he deadpanned. ‘Be grateful your father provided me with a driver. If it was me controlling the horses, we'd undoubtedly end up in the Serpentine.' With Mercy settled, he assisted Chastity into the carriage, then seated himself opposite. Seconds later, they were clattering out of the square.

***

‘Right then, Percy, I suggest we start with the Eastern Dock. According to this map, it's the smaller of the two.'

‘Where did you get the map from, Sir?'

The Reverend frowned at his curate. ‘Of all the questions you could have asked, that's the one you come up with?'

‘We gaun tae see some ships then Revren?' Finn's response was clearly more to the clergyman's liking and he grinned down at the excited boy.

‘That we are lad. Go and fetch your coat and we'll be off.'

Finn needed no further urging. After hurriedly helping himself to an extra piece of bread which he stuffed into his pocket for later , he ran off to his bedchamber.

Percy sighed as he watched the boy go. ‘I don't think he'll ever get used to the idea that his next meal is assured,' he murmured before turning to his superior and adding sternly, ‘Sir, you really shouldn't be stuffing his head full of nonsense. I'm not sure he should even be accompanying us. The docks are no place for an impressionable lad.'

The Reverend regarded Percy with something approaching pity. ‘Well, just you try and tell him he's got to stay here,' the clergyman suggested. ‘I predict the boy'll be following us within five minutes. At least this way we get to keep an eye on him. And don't forget it was your deuced idea to bring him to London in the first place.'

‘Finn's too much of a handful for Lizzy on her own,' Percy sighed, ‘and I thought we'd have the chance to see the sights.'

‘You are – you're seeing London Docks,' Augustus Shackleford retorted. ‘It'll be a damn sight more useful to him than showing him a few dandies mincing down Bond Street.'

Ten minutes later, they were climbing into the Earl of Cottesmore's second best carriage.

‘Will his lordship object to us using his carriage without permission?' Percy asked as they headed out onto the busy street.

‘He wasn't here to ask,' the Reverend retorted, lifting Flossy onto his lap. ‘But I'm certain that if he knew what we were about, he'd be more than happy to give his blessing.' The clergyman finished with a small self-conscious cough. Even Finn had looked doubtful at that bag of moonshine.

It didn't take long to reach the entrance to the Eastern docks, and after requesting the coach driver return for them in two hours, Reverend Shackleford attached Flossy to her lead and headed into the seething mass surrounding London Docks.