Chapter 24

CHAPTER24

The Duchess of Mowbray was eating breakfast at Seven Oaks the country seat of the Earl of Stanton, with her hosts, the Earl and Countess, her sister-in-law, when their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of the Stanton’s very correct butler, Porth, bearing a silver salver on which rested a plain envelop.

“Excuse the interruption my Lord, but this has just arrived for the Duchess of Mowbray.” He offered the silver tray to Diana with a bow.

“Thank you, Porth,” said Diana picking it up with a frown. “How did this arrive?”

“By courier your Grace.”

“From?” she asked turning the envelope over, looking for a clue as to its contents.

“London, I believe,” said Porth. Turning to the Earl he said, “is everything satisfactory with the meal, my Lord?”

“Yes, thank you,” murmured the Earl looking up from his newspaper.

Porth bowed and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

“It must be from Anthony, but why he would write to me when he will be here later today...” Diana opened the envelope with a sudden prickle of presentiment and spread open the single sheet.

The writing was black and bold, but the letters were ill formed and the spelling incorrect. It was definitely not from Anthony. She read the text with starting eyes her heart thudding heavily in her breast, a hand stealing to her throat in horror.

WE HAVE THE DUKE. BRING THE TITLE DEEDS FOR LOVELS TO THE PRINTERS SHOP IN MONMOTH CORT AT 8 PM SHARP OR HE WILL DIE

“My dear what is it?” asked the countess alarmed by her manner.

Diana lowered the sheet and said woodenly, “Someone has kidnapped Anthony, and they are holding him to ransom.”

“Good heavens!” said the countess faintly.

“Show me the note,” said the Earl holding out his hand. He read it swiftly and looked up, “Who-?”

“I know who!” said Diana in a choked voice, rising from her seat, her body stiff with fury. “My Uncle, Garmon Lovell!”

She paced away from the table towards the window, dashing the tears on her cheeks away with an impatient hand. “How could he?” She swallowed the lump in her throat, a pain in her chest that threatened to stop her breath.

“But he warned me!” She turned, her hands in fists. “I will kill him myself for this! How dare he!”

The Earl rose and went to her. “My dear I will leave at once for London and alert the constabulary. This will not stand. A peer of the realm, a duke no less, to be kidnaped and held to ransom? The perpetrators are mad if they think they can get away with this!”

“What if they hurt Anthony?” said his sister who had obtained the letter and read it.

“I imagine they have hurt him already to have taken him prisoner. They must have tricked him somehow and overcome him...,” said Diana.

“There must have been a few of them, Anthony would not be easy to take down,” said the Earl heading towards the door. “I will order a horse -”

“Make it two!” snapped Diana, “and ask Porth if that courier is still here.”

At the Earl’s look she added impatiently. “I’m not waiting meekly here while you ride off to be noble my Lord. He’s my husband, and he’s been kidnapped by my uncle. I’m bloody well coming! Just give me time to change, this requires breeches!” on which she opened the door and ran up the stairs.

Just over thirtyminutes later Diana and Stanton set off for London; it would take them six hours hard riding to get there, but the roads were clear, the weather had been cold but fine for several weeks. The courier had gone by the time Stanton sent the servants looking for him and no trace was found of him.

* * *

Garmon was aboutto sit down to dinner with his wife and the Rookes who were visiting London for a spell, when a commotion in the tap drew him out of the parlour and towards the tap room, followed by Sebastian.

“Garmon! Where are you, come out, you son of a bitch!”

Diana, dressed in breeches, boots, shirt and a cloak stood in the middle of the tap room a pistol in her hand and a look of wild fury on her face.

“Diana, what -?” he stopped dead as she raised the pistol, cocked it and took aim at him. The customers in the tap began edging for the door, slipping out one by one and legging it. The staff, Joe and Annie, stayed behind the bar.

“Where is he?” she said, her voice hoarse.

Behind her, a gentleman by the cut of his dress, with fair hair and medium build stepped forward, “Diana, you can’t shoot him!”

“I can and I will!” she said glaring at Garmon. Through clenched teeth, she said, “Where is he, you arsehole!”

“Where is who?” said Garmon. He felt Genevra come up behind him and panic made him sharp. “Go back to the parlour Genevra!”

Genevra ignored him. “Who is she?”

“My niece! Now go -”

“I’m running out of patience Garmon, tell me where my husband is, or I will shoot you and I won’t miss!”

“Mowbray? I’ve no idea. What is this about Diana?”

“Don’t lie to me!”

“I’m not lying. I’ve been here all day; I have no idea what you are talking about. Can you please lower that gun, so we can speak rationally. If your husband is missing, I’ll help you find him.”

The gentleman behind Diana, spoke clearly and calmly. “We received a ransom note for the duke at breakfast this morning. I’m Stanton, by the way, I don’t think we’ve met, although I’ve heard of you.”

Garmon nodded to him. “Thank you.” He transferred his attention back to Diana. “And you think this ransom note came from me?”

“Who else would it come from? It demands the title deeds for Lovells in return for the duke’s safety.”

“Fuck!” Garmon closed his eyes. He had forgotten about the order he put out months ago on the duke, someone must have taken it up? But who?

“You do know something!”

“I do, but I swear to you Diana, I had no idea this was happening. I admit I did put out a bounty on the duke months ago, and I forgot to rescind it. But I have had nothing to do with this plot.”

“You bastard!” tears of rage spilled down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I really am.” He swallowed, trying to think. “I can fix this, show me the note. I promise I can fix it, trust me!”

“Why the hell should I?” she

“No reason, except I think I’m the only one who can get him back for you. Show me the note.”

She uncocked the pistol, and dug in a pocket, producing a piece of folded paper. She pointed the pistol at the floor and waited while he read it.

“Fuck! How could I have missed this?” Not paying attention. “Ben!”

“Yes Mr Lovell,” said Ben popping up from behind the bar.

“Assemble the mudlarks.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Seb, I know you don’t work for me in this capacity anymore, but can I call on you in this instance?”

Sebastian Rooke nodded. “You can.”

“Good man.” He turned back to Diana and Stanton. “Come into the coffee room, we need a plan of attack.”

“You will help us?” Diana glared at him suspiciously.

“Of course, this is my fault.” He turned around and found both Genevra and Beth. He slid his arm round his wife’s thickened waist. “Go back to the parlour love, this is not something you need to be involved in.”

Genevra put a hand on her hip and gave him a look he knew only too well. With a sigh he drew her apart and gave her a rapid summary of the situation and its background. “So, you see it’s my fault. I have to help Diana get the duke back, as much as I loathe the man, I can’t let this stand.”

She nodded thoughtfully and stroked his cheek. “You’ve changed.”

“I have? If I have, it’s due to you.” He kissed her gently, pushing a wayward lock behind her ear. “At one time I was obsessed with getting the hell back. Getting revenge on Mowbray. But once I met you, suddenly it didn’t matter half so much, and now I couldn’t care less. You and our child are the only things that matter to me.”

She smiled and kissed him. “Go help Diana recover her duke, Beth and I will be fine here. But don’t get shot, or I’ll have to kill you!”

He smiled at the joke and kissed her. “I won’t, I promise.”

She waited until Beth had taken leave of her husband and the two women returned to the parlour. Garmon led Diana and Stanton into the coffee room, followed by Sebastian.

Seb shut the door and leaned on it, his arms crossed over his massive chest. Garmon took a seat at the table and waved Stanton and Diana to sit also.

“Who has Anthony, do you know?” asked Diana laying her pistol on the table.

“I don’t. I didn’t even know this was happening.” Garmon frowned, tapping his chin with his joined fists. “Whoever they are, they got wind of my bounty for the capture and extortion of the duke. It was a bounty I issued months ago. I’d forgotten about it.” He looked at Seb. “Have you heard anything Seb?”

The big man shook his head. “But I’ve been in Pinner, out of the network.”

Garmon nodded. And if Ben had heard anything he would have told him. As if summoned by his thoughts a knock at the door heralded the return of Ben, who burst in panting. “Mudlarks on alert Mr Lovell, what do you need us to do?”

“In a moment Ben. Diana will you trust me?”

She frowned at him, and he could see her internal battle. He reached out a hand and covered hers with his, squeezing it. “I’ll get him back for you, I promise. I understand now how much he means to you.”

Diana swallowed visibly, her eyes glistening. She spoke softly and low. “He means everything to me.”

He nodded, “I know. I owe you an apology, I never understood before, but now,” he took a breath to clear his suddenly clogged throat. “If someone threatened Genevra I’d kill him.”

Diana nodded, “Very well. Do you have a plan?”

“Yes, we don’t just want to recover the duke unharmed, we want to get these curs off the streets permanently, you agree?”

“Yes,” she grimaced her fist clenching.

“Good. Ben?”

Ben, who had been hovering near the fire keeping warm, straightened, “Yes Mr Lovell sir!”

“Take a message to the Magistrate for me.” He rose and went to the desk in the corner and unlocking the drawer took out paper, quill and ink. He scribbled a quick note, sanded, folded and sealed it. Handing it to Ben the boy left the room and Garmon brought another piece of paper to the table with the ink and pen. Setting them down he drew a rough map.

“This is Monmouth Court, the print shop is here, it has two entrances, front and rear.” He marked them on the map. “We need to surprise these devils and get them to confess their crime in front of the magistrate. This is what I suggest we do...”

* * *

Jacob paced the room restlessly,casting a worried eye towards the clock on the mantle over the fireplace. The duke lay trussed and gagged, tied to the heavy iron base of the printing press that dominated the room. The printer, similarly, bound and gagged, lay in a crumpled heap in the corner, neatly felled by a blow to the jaw from which he had not yet recovered. Jacob’s compatriots, Joss a thickset man with tattoos and a broken nose, and Hal a tall, skinny fellow with several teeth missing, sprawled in the two available wooden chairs. Lead letters strewed the floor from the tussle to overcome the printer.

It lacked but a few minutes to eight o’clock, the time of reconning was here and Jacobs nerves pulled tight with anticipation. Would the duchess be on time? Would she come at all?

The duke rolled over, his hands above his head and said casually, “you won’t get away with this you know.”

Joss got up from his seat leaned over the duke, “Shut up your Grace, or I’ll shut your mouth for you.”

“My wife will put your balls in a vise and squeeze them till they pop!” He made a popping noise with his mouth to underline his point.

Joss reached towards him, but that didn’t deter the duke who smirked and added, “In fact, I’ve no doubt she’ll use this device to which you have tied me, I can’t wait to see it.” Joss grabbed the duke’s fine coat and hauled him up, his Grace’s unfashionably long red hair hung down as his head lolled back, his arms pulled back at an unnatural angle behind him. Joss shook him, the biceps on his arms flexing.

“I said shut up!”

The clock struck eight and Jacob strained to hear a sound from the street. “Shut him up!” he snarled going towards the curtain that covered the entrance to the front of the shop.

“With pleasure,” grinned Joss and kicked the duke in the ribs with his boot. The duke made an oof sound and curled round the blow.

Jacob lifted the curtain and paused as the shop door opened with a tinkle and two men stepped in. Not the duchess, but perhaps these were her messengers? Or late customers?

“The printery is closed gentlemen, can I help you?” asked Jacob, putting on his best publican accent.

“You’re not Mayberry, where is he?” asked the first of the gentlemen, he was above medium height and build, with brown hair, just flecked with grey, in his forties Jacob surmised. The man behind him was much bigger and had dark hair and a swarthy chin in need of a shave.

“Mr Mayberry had to go home, he left me to lock up. Are you a customer sir?”

“No, his landlord, names Lovell.”

“Mr Lovell!” Jacob grinned. “That’s fortuitous sir, we may have something you want.”

“Aye” what would that be?” Lovell stepped closer to the counter and the man behind him flanked him one step behind and to his left.

Jacob lifted the curtain, “step this way sir and see for yourself.

Lovell stepped through followed by the black-haired giant and Jacob followed letting the curtain drop behind him, his heart thudding with anticipation.

Lovell grinned at sight of the duke, who was curled up with his eyes closed. Seemed that Joss had given him a good belting for his insolence.

“Mowbray!” Lovell said with satisfaction. He turned to Jacob. “My informants were correct; you do have him!”

The duke’s eyes opened at the sound of his name, and he squinted at Lovell, his mouth thinning. “Come to gloat have you Lovell?” he said.

Lovell ignored him, taking in Joss and Hal as well as Jacob he grinned. “Well done gentlemen, you have done the seemingly impossible. Now it only remains for me to get my property back-”

“That is in a way to being accomplished sir, “Jacob interrupted him. “We are in momentary expectation of the duchess arriving with the title deeds for Lovell’s gaming hell. That is what you wanted, isn’t it sir?”

“It is indeed!” Lovell nodded and Jacob’s fingers tingled with suppressed excitement.

“I am doubly impressed. Your reward will be significant if you can pull this off,” Lovell said with relish.

“Lovell you bastard!” growled the duke from the floor. “Have you no conscience?”

Lovell turned his gaze on the duke and said coldly, “None at all. I thought you knew that about me?”

The duke pulled at his bonds and tried to sit up panting, his face as red as his hair. “Damn it Lovell, call off your dogs. I’ll play you for the deeds again. Best of three. I can’t be fairer than that. Just leave Diana out of it!”

Lovell appeared to consider this offer for a moment and Jacob tensed, fearing that his reward was to be snatch away before he had even grasped it.

“I don’t think so Mowbray. I want my hell back, and I’ve no mind to risk it on the turn of a card when I have a certainty within my grasp.”

“Blast and damn you, I should have run you through when I had the chance!” swore the duke, his colour alarming.

Lovell turned away. “Gag him, he talks too much. When are you expecting the duchess?”

“Any moment now sir.” Jacob said with a smile.

Lovell nodded, “Mr Rooke and I will wait in the backroom. It won’t do for the duchess to catch sight of me, she will likely want to shoot me. Better if you handle the negotiation.”

“Aye sir.”

“Lovell!” bellowed the duke.

“I told you to gag him!” Lovell snapped. Jacob waved at the other two who sprang into action and wrestled the duke into submission, tying a gag round his mouth.

“Word of warning, if you kill him, you’ll hang. He’s a duke and even my power won’t save you. But the duchess doesn’t need to know that, make her think you’ll go the whole way, and you’ll get what you want. Understand?”

“Yes Mr Lovell, clear as daylight.” Jacob rubbed his hands.

Diana shuffledthe documents in her sweaty hands, pushing them into the inside pocket of her jacket and wiped her palms on her breeches. She touched the pistol thrust through her belt comfortingly and glanced over her shoulder at Stanton, standing with her in the shadows across the street from the printery. It seemed like an age since Garmon and Rooke had entered the shop.

Stanton nodded and put his watch away. The ten-minute wait was up.

With a deep breath she crossed the street, Stanton on her heels and pushed open the door. A bell tinkled, announcing their arrival and a man appeared through a curtain, he was of medium height and broad through the shoulders, mid-thirties and handsome enough.

“May I help you sir-” as his eyes registered that Diana was in fact a woman, he corrected himself. “Madam.” His gaze gleamed in sudden appreciation of her legs and crotch revealed by the tight-fitting breeches. Diana ignored the salacious look and marched up to the counter.

“I’ve come for the duke, where is he?”

“Your Grace?”

The man’s uncertain tone irritated her, and she snapped. “Yes, where is my husband?”

The man’s expression hardened, and he said, “You have what we asked for?”

“You’ll not see it until I see my husband.” She swallowed, she was supposed to act nervous, but in truth there was little acting required. Her nerves were stretched to breaking point. She could not relax until she saw Anthony and knew he was safe and unharmed. She gritted her teeth. “Where is he?”

The man smiled and held up the curtain, “This way your Grace.” He glanced at Stanton, who had said nothing, remaining impassive, yet slightly threatening behind her. His presence was more comforting than she expected. She was grateful not to have to face this alone.

She stepped into the room and her gaze fell on the body curled below the printing press, his flaming hair half covered his face, and his hands were bound above his head pulling his arms into an uncomfortable position of strain, binding him to the iron foot of the press. His feet were bound also, and his knees bent up as if to protect his stomach. Her heart lurched and thudded hard with distress.

“Anthony!” she moved towards him but found her way blocked by a beefy man with tattoos visible on his neck and forearms. Anthony turned his head at the sound of her voice, and she could see he was gagged. He made a muffled sound in his throat and her gut clenched with pain and fury at the way he was being treated.

“Release him at once!” she turned on the man who had shown her into the room as he seemed to be their leader and spokesperson. The third man was a skinny sort with missing teeth. Could she and Stanton take all three out?

“Certainly, if you give me what I want,’ said the man with a smile that made her skin crawl.

“Not until you release him!” She advanced on him, her hand snaking towards the pistol in her belt. In her peripheral vision Stanton straightened and his hands slid towards his pockets. He had two pistols and she had one. She was going off script, but damn it she wouldn’t stand for Anthony to be treated this way. How much damage had they inflicted on him?

“I wouldn’t do that your Grace,” the man said, nodding towards the duke. She followed the direction of his gaze and halted the direction of her hand. The skinny fellow had a knife at Anthony’s throat. She put out a hand to stay any potential action by Stanton and dropped her other hand to her side.

“Good girl,” the man said with another of those smiles that made her skin crawl. “Now the papers your Grace, if you please.” He held out his hand.

Anthony tried to say something, but it was just a jumble of sounds. She glanced at him and tried to convey reassurance. This would all be over in a few moments. She hoped.

With every show of reluctance, she reached into the pocket of her jacket and drew out the papers. She stretched out her hand and offered them to the man.

He took them and looked at them. He nodded and smiled. “Thank you, your Grace-”

Jacob grinned.Who knew it would be so easy to earn a small fortune by robbing a duke? He was about to put the papers in his pocket and instruct Hal and Joss to release the duke when all hell broke loose.

It took him a moment to realise what was happening. The door to the backroom where Lovell and his man were hiding flung open, and several men poured out fanning round the room. Lovell followed with the black-haired giant.

A man in an old-fashioned tricorn and a black jacket, paced into the centre of the room and announced loudly. “You’re under arrest for kidnapping, extortion and assault of a peer of the realm.”

Jacob looked round at the men ringing the room with a sickening lurch and realised they had been set up. He dropped the incriminating papers and flipped into a roll that took him across the room to the curtained entrance as chaos erupted around him. Lifting the curtain, he fled through the shop and out into the street. He pelted down the street and dived into a side alley and ran hell for leather. He didn’t even look back to see if anyone was on his tail until he’d criss-crossed streets and alleys in the dark for ten minutes.

Finally coming to a halt in an alcove, he bent over gasping for breath. When he had his breath back, he swore long and hard at his ill luck and then set his face towards the Globe Tavern. Time he went home and found Genevra, he’d grab her and flee. London was definitely too hot to hold him now. He hoped the Tavern had done well in his absence. He’d take whatever money they had and run.

* * *

By the timeGarmon realised the ringleader had gotten away the man had a fair start, he sent two of the constables after him and turned to watch with satisfaction the reunion between Diana and Mowbray. After giving them a moment, he approached and held out his hand to the duke.

Mowbray turned to him and looked at the hand and then back at Diana. With a sudden jolt he realised why Genevra’s eyes had seemed so familiar to him when he first laid eyes on her, she had the same startlingly deep blue eyes as the duke. He had sought desperately for a reason why she seemed so familiar, and it had been staring him in the face all along.

Mowbray took his hand reluctantly and Garmon smiled. “I hope you can forgive me, even if Diana cannot. I promise you I relinquish all pretensions to the hell. She is yours.”

“Magnanimous of you Lovell,” the duke said sardonically.

“Yes I thought so.” Garmon grinned. “Perhaps you can solve a mystery for me? My wife has the same blue eyes as you have and red hair, although hers is a lighter copper than yours. Any idea why?”

The duke shrugged. “My grandfather was a notorious rake. I doubt if anyone could trace all of his by-blows, he wasn’t in the habit of acknowledging them.”

“Whittaker, ring any bells?”

The duke shook his head. “As I said, the old man wasn’t in the habit of acknowledging his progeny. He slept with more women than my father and me combined, and we managed an impressive total between us.” As he said this, he cinched Diana to his side with an arm round her waist. As if to reassure her that his philandering days were well and truly over.

Diana smiled up at him and Garmon felt surplus to requirements. That look made him miss Genevra, and he signalled to Seb, it was time to head back to the Tavern.

They were about to leave when the constables he had sent after the ringleader came back disconsolate, the man had gotten away. Garmon cursed.

“Ben put the word out to the mudlarks.” A man answering his description couldn’t hide from them. They’d find him. “What is his name?” he asked turning to the two thugs now handcuffed and being man handled to the door by the constables.

The big man with the tattoos spat, “Tate, Jacob Tate the cowardly prick! May he rot in hell!”

The blood drained from Garmon’s head at the name, and he reached blindly for something to hold him up and found Seb at his elbow.

“We had him and he got away?” he whispered, his heart thudding in his ears. “Genevra!” He fought off the shock and turned to Seb. “Genevra may be in danger.” He bolted out of the shop followed rapidly by Seb and Stanton and crossed the road to where the carriage they had come in stood waiting for them.

With a hoarse shout to the driver to spring ‘em, he clambered into the carriage with the other men and endured the longest ride through the streets of London of his life. His heart thudding mercilessly in his chest and curses tripping off his tongue.