Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Mr. Alton had the carriage stop at the banks of the River Thames. The two of them piled out and into the cold night air. It was quiet, apart from Isabella's loudly beating heart.

"Keep driving around the area, but keep them away from us," Mr. Alton instructed the driver. "Keep them off our tracks."

The carriage driver nodded and sped away from them. It seemed that instantly the threat subsided. Isabella could breathe clearly for the first time since the henchmen had captured her.

It helped that they were out of the smoke and the air was fresher. She looked out at the water as it flowed by them. Mr. Alton came up to her side, and she knew she was safe.

He buttoned up his coat jacket over his bare skin. Half his shirt was still gripped tightly in her hand from holding it over her nose and mouth. She didn't want to let it go. Her hands still trembled from fear and every small sound felt as if danger was creeping nearer again.

When Mr. Alton placed his hand on her back, her hands stilled. She closed her eyes and leaned into his comfort.

"Are you all right?" Mr. Alton asked. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"I'm a little shaken up, but I'm all right," she answered. "Are you hurt?"

She could see some fine drops of blood on his hand and she raised it to inspect.

"I was in a hurry to get that window open for our escape," he said with a chuckle. "I'm all right. Really, it's nothing."

Isabella looked him in the eyes. "That was a trap."

He nodded. "It was, and a rather elaborate one. I'm sorry, I should have known that finding a note with all that information was a little too easy."

She fell into his arms then, and he wrapped her in a tight embrace. Isabella had never been so afraid in her life and still, she knew that if he asked her, she would follow him into that abandoned warehouse again.

His lips pressed gently against the top of her head as the breeze wrapped around them. Everything was calm. So calm that it felt almost like a dream.

"I'm so glad you're safe," he whispered. "I don't know what I would have done if..."

Isabella didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to consider what might have happened if he hadn't made it to her to save her. The further they got into the investigation, the more it felt as if they had no idea what they were up against.

"Thank you for saving me again," she said. "I promise I'll do better to keep myself out of trouble."

He shook his head. "I should have done better. I took you there."

She took a deep breath and buried her head into his chest. He smelled of smoke and so did she. In the distance, she could still see the glow of the warehouse as it burned to the ground.

"What do we do now?" she asked.

"Right this minute, I'd like to just enjoy your company if that's all right," he said softly. "We can worry about the rest later."

"That sounds perfect," she whispered.

At the edge of the river, it felt as if nobody in the world would find them. No boats passed them by and the rest of London had long since gone to bed.

"Why don't we take a walk?" he asked, offering her his arm.

She took it gladly as they headed along the bank of the river and back toward the city.

"Miss Owen, may I speak frankly?" he asked.

She laughed. "After all we've been through, I think you don't need to ask."

She glanced at him and noticed that he'd clenched his jaw. Mr. Alton was proving to be an unpredictable man so she had no idea how to ready herself for what he was going to say.

"I have developed feelings for you so strong that they threaten my sanity," he confessed. "And I've done my best, I really have, to swallow it down or push my feelings aside, and still my mind wanders back to thoughts of you."

Isabella felt as if the breath had been siphoned out of her lungs. It seemed that breathing never came easy in the company of Mr. Alton.

"I've lived my life believing steadfastly that there was no place for a wife at my side. That no woman could ever keep up with me," he continued. "Until I met you and you changed my mind."

She stopped walking then. Isabella was stunned. It felt as if her feet might float from the ground and carry her away from the dream. That in a second she might wake up in her bed and in her tedious life.

"I'm sorry if this scares you," he added. "But I cannot keep my feelings hidden any longer. Not when I have come so close to losing you."

"It does scare me," she said. "But not because of you."

She turned to face him so that she could look directly into his eyes. "I have fallen for you, Mr. Alton. So fast that it makes my head spin and my heart seize. So intensely that I do not care if it costs me my life. That is what scares me."

Mr. Alton took her hand in his. They were entirely alone with their feelings then. Despite the cold breeze, Isabella was warm. She was fired up and eager.

"I'm afraid these are feelings that I cannot turn away from," she continued. "That one day I might lose you. You have shown me a world that I cannot leave behind. My life before you is one that I have no interest in anymore."

He kissed her hard then. So hard that he had to tighten his grip on her to stop her from falling. Isabella's hands rested on his chest as they sealed their feelings for each other in the dark of late-night London and in the wake of imminent danger.

***

They'd had no choice but to walk home that night. Mr. Alton's carriage was racing all through the city in the hopes that the thugs would be thrown off their trail.

There was hardly a gap between Isabella and Mr. Alton as they strolled. They were dragging it out to gain as much time together as they possibly could.

But they came to a standstill when a familiar carriage stopped beside them. Isabella immediately recognized the crest on the door to be that of Lord Mortimer.

"Get behind me," Mr. Alton said, stepping in front of her.

The door to the carriage swung open, and Lord Mortimer peered at them with his hands up, as if defeated.

"Please," he said. "I mean you no harm. I have nearly lost my life tonight, and I can't take any more of this. I want to tell you everything I know."

Isabella glanced at Mr. Alton.

"How can we believe you?" she asked.

"I'm alone in here," Lord Mortimer said, motioning to the carriage. "And I am just an old man up against the two of you. It would appear that I'm the one more at risk here."

"All right," Mr. Alton said. "We'll talk in your carriage and I'll set the course. If your driver moves as much as one centimeter off course you'll find yourself in danger. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly," Lord Mortimer said, motioning for them to join him in his carriage.

Isabella followed Mr. Alton into the carriage where they sat pressed up against each other.

"I must do something to put an end to all of this," Lord Mortimer said immediately. "I want you to know that I intend to leave London tonight. Before I do so, I want to give you what you need to topple this entire conspiracy."

"Start with the most important," Mr. Alton said. "We don't have much time."

Lord Mortimer turned pale as if the very words he needed to speak might make him ill. "Lord Elmstone is behind it all."

"The Marquess of Elmstone?" Isabella asked in a panic.

Lord Mortimer nodded. "This entire situation is his master plan. He's the one calling all the shots from his safe holiday home in Cornwall. It's not fair if you ask me. The rest of us take all the risk on his behalf."

"Lord Elmstone is the head of the Phoenix Society?" Mr. Alton asked.

"Do keep up," Lord Mortimer said, annoyed. "We don't have all night and we've a lot to get through."

He had come to her home to get information out of her under the guise of being her father's trustworthy friend.

"Lord Elmstone and some others in higher society have been exploiting the government systems for profit," Lord Mortimer continued. "We're hiding payments and income and lying on our reports to avoid paying some of the taxes."

"The duke was onto you?" Mr. Alton asked.

Lord Mortimer nodded. "It threatens Lord Elmstone's wealth. We're talking about enough profit to make the Walters name rich for centuries to come."

"Meanwhile even the poorest of London society pay their taxes correctly," Mr. Alton said with bitterness in his tone. "Avoiding tax like that results in jail time, doesn't it?"

"I believe it does," Lord Mortimer agreed.

"Why go along with it all?" Isabella asked. "If you don't agree with any of it, how did you wind up in this position?"

He sunk his head with shame. "There's money in it for all of us," he said. "I was merely meant to be a messenger. It was never supposed to be like this. I'm sorry."

His eyes misted up with tears. The same man who had seemed so eager to capture her before now looked small and pathetic.

"Here," he said, reaching into his jacket pocket.

Lord Mortimer presented them with a stack of letters, all addressed to him and to Lady Arabella.

"These are correspondences from Lord Elmstone," he said. "In here you'll find all the evidence you need. There are instructions and amounts. All of it. I think he even mentions the duke by name in one of them. I was supposed to burn them after reading, but couldn't get myself to do it."

"I'm grateful for that," Mr. Alton said, taking the letters from him.

The carriage came to a stop outside their destination, just a few blocks from the alleyway behind Isabella's home.

"You'll never see me again," Lord Mortimer said. "I wish you luck and I hope you put an end to all this. Lord Elmstone is enjoying it too much. I don't think this will stop at the Duke of Trent."

"Why the change of heart?" Mr. Alton asked. "Why now?"

"I was nearly burned alive tonight," he answered. "That puts it in perspective."

They watched as Lord Mortimer's carriage left them. A silence hung over them for a few minutes afterward. Isabella was afraid for her family now that she knew the truth.

"What should we do?" she asked.

"I need some time to go through all of this and compile it into the kind of evidence that removes any shadow of doubt about his guilt," Mr. Alton said. "In the meantime, I suggest that we lay low in our homes."

"Anybody could be involved," Isabella said with a nod. "Lord Elmstone is my father's friend. I'm worried."

Mr. Alton took her hand and squeezed it. "You'll be safe, I promise. I'll make sure he is put away for good."

"Do not take too long to write to me," she said with a smile. "It makes me worry when you do."

Mr. Alton kissed her gently. "You have my word."

As Isabella walked down the dark alleyway and toward her home, she knew her life would never be the same. The building before her was no longer home to her. Home was a man that she was leaving behind in the shadows.