Chapter 21

Amelia

"She denied you?" Amelia hissed at Lord Ramsgate. "You blundering oaf."

Her words hardly seemed to impact the thin man, whose face already betrayed an expression of disbelief. "I told her…" he shook his head. "I played the lover, just as you told me to. I gave her my best plea, reminded her of the status I could offer her… she didn't deny me outright, only asked for a few weeks—"

"We do not have a few weeks!" Amelia snapped. "I made it clear that if you did not secure her hand by the wedding, you would not have another opportunity. Mr. Lyndon is speaking to her tomorrow afternoon." Even now, remembering all that she had overheard Simon saying to his sister, her stomach soured at the thought. Neither sibling had seen her until it was too late, and by then Amelia had heard exactly how much Simon cared for Lady Isabella.

It was already dark outside. The evening was nearly spent. She hardly had time to salvage the situation Lord Ramsgate had fumbled, but she would have to think of something. She was not going to be outplayed by the slip of a girl who had caught Simon's fancy. Amelia was a force of nature, and she was about to unleash fury on those around her.

"I will think of something," she said, even as the seed of an idea grew in her mind. "Don't go to sleep, and don't go out gaming. I may need you yet tonight, and if you drag yourself to my carriage in a drunken stupor, I'll toss you into a gutter."

She turned on her heel and left, slamming the door behind her. By the time she reached her carriage, she was breathing calmly again. By the time she had pulled into the center of town, she had a plan and one of her rougher friends to help her implement it. By the time she reached Lord and Lady Collingwood's estate in the finer part of London, she was ready to do what needed to be done.

The street outside was well-lit with oil lamps. Too well-lit. She leaned out of her carriage to her hired man, a bearded gent who offered to turn a few favors for her in return for her keeping a few of his secrets from the public.

"Grant," she whispered. "Pull around to the other side of the park, by the pond."

"It will be darker there," the man growled.

"That's what I'm counting on." She hated having to spell out every part of her schemes for the people in her employ. She reached out of the carriage window and placed a scrap of paper in the man's hand. "When we are safely ensconced in the park, have this delivered to Lady Isabella. Tell the butler it is a most urgent and private matter involving Lord Ramsgate." She knew Lady Isabella would be more likely to respond to something from Simon, but had seen enough of Lord Collingwood's disdain to suspect any missive from the honorable Mr. Lyndon would be torn to shreds before it reached Lady Isabella.

The contents of the letter were simple, written in block letters just in case the fair lady should grow suspicious of strange handwriting.

My lady,

I write to you on behalf of Mr. Simon Lyndon. He requests that you meet him in the park now, beside the pond. Unfortunately, the matter is most urgent. Try to slip away without being seen.

Sincerely,

A friend

All the pieces in place, Amelia had only to wait. Ordinarily she thrived on excitement and intrigue of that sort, but tonight she could not enjoy the thrill of the hunt. It was monstrous to be reduced to plots and dark alleys when her seduction should have been enough to win Simon's attentions. She resented Simon for spurning her. She resented Lord Ramsgate for failing her. But, more than anything, she resented the prim and proper Lady Isabella Collingwood for winning Simon Lyndon with the mere flutter of her eyelids. It made Amelia sick.

The minutes stretched. At length, Grant returned to the carriage and announced that he had delivered the message. Amelia gave him final instructions and he melted back into the black underbrush surrounding them, disappearing for the moment. Amelia climbed out of the carriage and walked to the edge of the pond. The darkness was split in places by filtered lamplight from faraway streets, but nothing so dangerous as to illuminate Amelia clearly. Isabella would have no idea what was happening until—

"Simon?"

The girl's voice, breathy and nervous, drifted through the darkness. Amelia held back a smile at the success of her little ruse and turned slowly from where she stood beside the pond. She could see Lady Isabella's slim shape tiptoeing towards her in the dark, but could not make out the girl's features.

"Not quite," Amelia said softly. "Or at least, unlikely. Does your beloved Simon wear long silk skirts as I now do?"

Lady Isabella halted, and Amelia heard a sharp intake of breath. "Lady O'Mara?"

"I'm touched that you recognize my voice after such a brief acquaintance." Amelia loved this bit, like a cat playing with a mouse.

"Has our acquaintance been brief?" Lady Isabella asked, still unmoving in the darkness. "It seems I come upon you at every turn, and when I least expect it. There are friends I do not see as often as I see you."

"I see that I am not listed as one of your friends." Amelia allowed herself a wry laugh. "I suppose I shall have to live without your good opinion."

She raised her hand, and saw a shadow move in the darkness behind Lady Isabella in response. Grant was getting into position.

"What game are you playing at?" the other woman asked. To her credit, there was no fear in her voice.

"Oh, darling," Amelia tsked gently. "I don't play at games. I play at war, and this is a war I am winning."

Even as she spoke, Grant's fist came down hard on Lady Isabella in the darkness and the small woman fell without a cry, senseless at once.

"Where do you want her?" the man asked gruffly.

"Carriage." Amelia was all business now. "And I would very much like you to accompany us north for the culmination of this little party. I could use the brute strength."

"I can't leave London." Grant picked up Lady Isabella as if she were no heavier than a bouquet of wilting flowers. "I am in deep with a man at the docks and he'll have my head if I leave without paying."

Amelia sighed. Good help is so hard to find. "My dear Lord Ramsgate will have to be brawn enough, I suppose," she said. It was not as though Lady Isabella would ever be able to fight against both her and Lord Ramsgate, especially in the disoriented state she would find herself in when she woke.

She dropped Grant off in the river bottoms and had her driver turn towards Lord Ramsgate's flat. Across the seat from her, Lady Isabella lay slumped and pale against the upholstery. With every lurch of the carriage across cobbled stones the senseless girl slipped deeper into the shadows, limp and helpless.

For a moment, Amelia thought about solving her problem another way. Lord Ramsgate would need convincing to go along with the charade, but Amelia could handle the whole matter herself if she simply reached across the lurching carriage and wrapped her hands around that slender neck…

She shook her head as if to clear it and sat back in her seat. No, that was too risky. There were drivers, like hers, who would look the other way at a little Gretna Green kidnapping, but few would ignore the death of a young society woman in their rig.

Amelia would be implicated at once. Besides that, there was a certain poetic justice to watching Lady Isabella continue living in the misery of a loveless marriage. Amelia had managed it well enough, but something told her the sentimental little lass across from her would not fare so well.

She sent up word for Lord Ramsgate to appear below with a small weekend bag packed, and he complied within 20 minutes. Whipped little dog that he is, she thought drily. Men who gamble are so easy to control, it is almost not even good sport to boast of the accomplishment.

She was nearly proved wrong, however, when Lord Ramsgate settled into the carriage at her side and then caught sight of the still figure occupying the opposite bench.

"Gods, woman!" he cried, so loudly that Amelia was forced to cover his mouth with her hand.

"Hush," she hissed, "or you'll bring all of London down on us."

He nodded after a moment, and she slowly removed her hand. This time, he spoke more softly, but there was a low panic in his words, nonetheless. "What are you thinking?" he asked. "Did you kill her?"

Amelia rolled her eyes, thankful for the darkness that kept her derision a secret. "She's only sleeping. I'm hoping the unconscious bit lasts for part of the journey north. No doubt when she awakes, she will make our lives significantly more difficult. We ought to bind her up."

"North?" Lord Ramsgate whispered in the darkness.

"Need I spell out everything for you?" Amelia asked in exasperation. "Gretna Green? Marriage license? The whole troublesome business solved before people even know the girl is missing?"

Lord Ramsgate's voice trembled as he responded. "This cannot be the best option—" he sucked in his breath as the carriage lurched into motion, "—but I see you are not taking my advice in the matter."

"Let me remind you, dear friend," she cooed, "of a few things you and I know that the rest of the world does not know. We both know of your debt, and your lies, and your debt to cover your lies. We both know of the way you leveraged your father's shipping company in a scheme that led to complete ruin. We both know of that child you had with the milkmaid in Grandville. We both know—"

"Enough." He laid his head back against the tapestry. "I get your point, My Lady."

"I'm rather afraid that you don't," she said curtly. "Allow me to be utterly clear, to avoid any confusion on this journey. You have much to be afraid of in the world, but I am the most dangerous thing in your life right now. You'd best go along with my plans. I'll arrange everything, and you'll be married to the girl you wanted shortly after we cross the border."

She'd won. She could see it even in the shadowed interior—something in the slump of Lord Ramsgate's shoulders told her that he would not fight her any more on this. They were too deep in at this point, and Amelia could ruin him.

"We should bind her." Amelia pulled a silk handkerchief out of her reticule and handed it to Lord Ramsgate. "Ankles and wrists. It will slow her down if she should get any ideas about escape."

"And I see that I am to do the binding," Lord Ramsgate said drily. Still, he complied. He tied Isabella's wrists and then laid her over on her side with her head leaning against one of the upholstered arms of the carriage. "I did not think I would marry her this way."

"Of course not," Amelia retorted. "If you'd made quicker work of wooing her, none of this would be necessary. As it is, the whole notion of kidnapping her and riding off to Gretna Green was a necessary evil."

"If it is only that," Lord Ramsgate said quietly, "then why do you look so pleased at the sight of her in bonds?"

The carriage pulled to a halt, and Amelia opened the door outside her place of residence. "Stay true to the plan, my lord, or you'll regret it."

"You're not coming with us?"

"I can't risk being involved more than I already am." She smiled at him, enjoying how trapped he looked. He was as committed to this outcome now as the senseless girl across from him was. She had every confidence he would follow through. "I wish you the best, though. Congratulations on your nuptials."