A Love Laid Bare (42 page)

He took her hands in his. “She will. Follow us in the
carriage. If the roads are more passable than we anticipate and you
arrive sooner than estimated, stay at the fork in the road until it
is close to noon before you continue on.”

Frances raised his hand to her cheek, and nodded, not
trusting her ability to speak.

The earl’s gaze went from her to the other men. “Time
is passing. Jim, Mathew, you know your part.”

Silently they nodded and hurried out. Halcombe turned
to Summerton. “We have just time enough to change and get something
to eat.”

“I will be ready.” The viscount quietly disappeared
as well.

“The man is amazingly covert when he so chooses,”
Halcombe said with a wry twist of his mouth.

Frances had noticed this trait before and welcomed
the reminder. She had a feeling the talent might serve him well
today. “Yes, such a skill must be useful at times,” she said, and
suddenly stricken with dread, hugged her husband fiercely. “Be
careful, dearest. Be safe.”

“I will be in no danger.”

He kissed her then, hard and urgent, and was gone
before she could take a breath. Dry-eyed, Frances methodically
folded up the map of Sussex. Richard might need it and she gave it
to Benson to pack in his saddlebag. She, too, wanted to change her
clothes, and keeping her thoughts fixed on the fact she would soon
be on her way to Flora, Frances retired to her bedchamber.

***

Jensen looked coldly at the girl slumped in the
corner of the shadowy room. “We are leaving. Bring the child.” He
gestured impatiently when she hesitated. “No one is going to hurt
you if you do as you are told. Now put these on and get up.”

He tossed her the boots and stockings he had taken
from her when they had arrived. The nursemaid looked fearfully at
him, put on her footwear, and then got slowly to her feet. Lady
Flora was asleep on a blanket on the floor. Her sobs during the
night had irritated his already uncertain temper and he had felt
compelled to drug her yet again. The now-dozing kitten had done
little to comfort the little girl after all. It was the maid’s calm
manner that had had the most effect, Jensen guessed, and he had to
give her credit for it. She had stolidly accepted the circumstances
after she realized that she and the child were closed in a dimly
lit room furnished with two blankets, a chamber pot, some bread,
water and a small pile of cloths. He had curtly instructed her on
what to do and she had responded with a stiff nod. She would obey
him, not cry for help or try to escape, and she would keep the
child quiet. Satisfied that her tight-lipped, frightened expression
meant she had heard the unspoken ‘or else’, Jensen had left them
alone in the near dark. With his hostages secure for the night, he
had gone to seek a brandy and a few hours of sleep.

The previous day had been long and tense. Timing his
arrival to coincide with dusk had meant hiding in a deserted,
decaying barn for several hours, which in turn caused him the
additional worry of keeping the pair quiet with measured doses of
laudanum. Only when they were locked in here at Clifftop and the
vehicle was safely under cover along with the horses, could he
relax his guard somewhat. One of the horses he would ride to a
sheltered cove a few miles distant where a boat lay ready to take
him out to a ship bound for Europe. Everything had been precisely
arranged.

Once Lady Flora was clasped tightly in her arms,
Jensen waved the nursemaid forward. He was glad to leave the stink
behind. Even with his forethought in providing infant cloths, the
smell of human waste permeated the small room.

The ideal place to leave them had occupied his
thoughts for some time. It had to be far enough away to allow him a
good start while Halcombe raced off to reclaim his daughter, and
not so far that Jensen could not get to the girls quickly himself,
if necessary. He also knew the matter might be complicated by the
addition of other players. The earl would take no chances with the
child and Jensen suspected Lady Halcombe had probably set out in a
carriage not long after her husband. This meant a coachman and a
groom, at the very least, would likely be prepared for the
chase.

On one of his earlier explorations, Jensen had found
a jumbled scattering of large rocks which formed a ragged
semi-circle with the open side facing the water. The place chosen
was located no more than a quarter mile along the rocky footpath
from the house. While it was closer to the cliff edge than he had
wanted, the girl seemed smart enough to keep herself and Lady Flora
well back.

Jensen looped a short length of rope over his
shoulder and led the girl to the site. The nursemaid was clearly
not happy with the milieu, but did not make any kind of protest,
submitting meekly when he leaned down and tied one end of the rope
around her waist. The other he tied around one of the rocks.
Neither knot was within easy reach and both were secure enough that
the rope would need to be cut to free her.

Jensen regarded the bedraggled young woman sitting
quietly on the hard ground with the little girl clutched in her
lap. She was afraid, but still she dared to glare at him before she
bent her head close to Lady Flora’s. He crouched down and caught
her chin in a hard grip.

“Stay here and don’t make a sound. If I hear so much
as a peep, I will kill you and take Lady Flora so far from here
that she will never be found. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

A tear ran down her cheek, the first he had seen her
shed. He released her with a muffled curse, stood and clambered
over the rocks. As he retraced his steps to Clifftop, he railed
silently at the circumstances that had brought him to this.
Threatening innocent children…giving a woman he admired a lifetime
of nightmares over the theft of her beloved daughter. Never had he
sunk so low. Yes, he had killed, but only to protect himself from
men who were his equal in strength, if not intelligence.

There was no turning back now, however. He
had
to have the Legacy Folio, get it to Brussels and clean up his
father’s mess, or they would both be ruined. Jensen retrieved his
spyglass from the house and returned to his chosen spot, not far
from where his hostages were hidden. He studied the landscape
below. Although empty at the moment, a man on horseback or on foot,
would be easy to see long before they ever reached him.

Jensen looked at his watch and smirked. It was past
ten. Halcombe was well on his way by now. Since the earl no doubt
planned to arrive before the designated hour, he would soon be
visible. No matter. Jensen was ready for him.

***

Frances had changed into sturdy half boots and a
plain, serviceable dress. Some bread and cheese were packed in the
basket at her feet, along with fresh clothes for both Flora and
Nancy. She had asked Rose to accompany her and a groom had been
dispatched to arrange for a change of horses along the way. There
was nothing else to do but wait.

She was perched on a bench in the entry, ruing the
tea she had forced down earlier, when she heard the rumble of
wheels.

“Benson, I hear the carriage.” Frances jumped up,
folded her cloak over one arm and picked up the basket. The rumble
grew louder and she frowned. Surely they had not brought the
coach—it was much too slow! She hurried out and stopped abruptly on
the threshold. Two carriages stood in the drive. Lady Alten emerged
from the lead-most vehicle. She said something to the coachman and
ran up the broad steps.

Frances gaped at her friend. The always impeccably
groomed woman was dressed in an ugly faded black dress a servant
would deign to wear, and her blond hair was hidden under an equally
horrid-looking bonnet.

“Frances, I need your help.” Mary’s words tumbled out
in a rush. She noticed Frances’ basket, and her already pale face
whitened further. “Oh, dear heaven, you are going somewhere? What
is it? What has happened?”

“Mary, I am so sorry. I must go. Lady Flora has been
abducted.”

“Abducted?” Mary gasped. “Dear heavens, you must be
frantic with worry! I was…I had hoped to…this is certainly no time
to bother you.” She nervously took a step back.

Frances was torn. Nausea flooded her already churning
stomach and she folded her arms across her middle. She was
desperate to leave for Clifftop, but Mary clearly needed her. She
thought of Halcombe and Summerton and the unyielding trust that she
had placed in them. She could spare her friend five minutes.
Frances dropped the basket, pulled Mary into the house, and rushed
them both into the library. “Tell me, quickly. If I can do anything
I will. But Flora…” Her breath caught. “I must go,” she
repeated.

Mary stared at her for a moment, seeming unsure of
herself. When she finally spoke, her words carried an urgency laden
with fear. “I told you at one time that I might need to get away. I
do, immediately, and the arrangements I had made are no longer
feasible.”

Frances gripped Mary’s shoulders. “Mary, please calm
down. I want to help you…I
will
help you, but you have to
tell me exactly what it is you need.”

Mary opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came
out, and Frances shook her gently. “I really
must
leave.
Quickly, now!”

Mary took a deep shuddering breath. “I need somewhere
I can hide—where no one knows who I am. I am afraid to stay at an
inn. People talk! And not here either. It will be the first place
he will look for me. Mrs. Norton…” She swallowed. “Does Halcombe
have another property, away from here? You have never mentioned
one, but I thought maybe….”

“What of your mother?”

“Mama is gone,” Mary whispered.

“Oh, my dear, I am so sorry.” Frances pulled her
friend close for a brief moment. It was no wonder she appeared
distraught, losing her mother so suddenly. Mary’s face was taut and
without a vestige of colour. Such pain and fear glazed her eyes
that Frances had to look away while she tried desperately to order
her thoughts. Who was this
he
that appeared to frighten her
friend to the point of terror? It was simply too much to think
about. All she could do now was find a safe haven for Mary and sort
out the rest later.

Frances bit down on her lower lip in an effort to
quell the panic that insisted she instantly race to her carriage.
She closed her eyes and forced herself to concentrate. She knew of
no other properties that were not directly tied to the Manor in
some way. The London house was occupied by the dowager, who would
never keep Mary’s presence a secret. If only she was better
acquainted with some of Richard’s friends! She scarcely knew anyone
except Summerton, and Mary could hardly go and stay with him.

Summerton! Frances’ eyes flew open and she grabbed
Mary’s hands. “Halcombe has no additional property that I know of,
but he does have a friend who owns a country house in Hampshire. An
older couple—caretakers—live there, and it is fairly secluded.
Richard and I stayed with them after our wedding.”

Frances released Mary and hurried over to the large
desk. “I will write a note to say that you are a friend of ours and
you need a place to stay. After Flora…” Frances paused and cleared
her throat. “Once Flora is safely home, we will help you find other
accommodations.” Frances signed Halcombe’s name to the request,
folded the letter, and stamped it with his seal. That should be
proof enough. She hastily scribbled on another sheet of paper.
“Here, this is the direction for your coachman.”

Mary stood quietly now, although Frances saw a shiver
run through her and the hands that took the letter were shaking.
“Thank you. I can’t tell you how much…”

“You can tell me the whole another time.” Frances cut
her off in mid-sentence, but she managed to summon a brief smile.
“We both must be on our way,” she said gently, and putting her arm
around Mary’s shoulders, guided her from the room.

Frances retrieved her basket from the front entry and
turned to Benson. “No one here has seen Lady Alten today, is that
understood?”

“Yes, madam. And Lady Flora…?”

“We will send word as soon as possible.”

Mary had almost reached her carriage when she turned
back to voice her gratitude. Her words were inaudible, but she gave
Frances a wobbly smile and placed a hand against her heart before
she scrambled inside. The carriage rumbled rapidly away.

Frances stared after it for a moment before she
climbed into her own carriage. Rose Blount was already seated and
reached over to give Frances’ hand a comforting squeeze. Still
clutching Rose’s hand as they drove away at a brisk pace, Frances
bent her head and let some of the tension ease from her shoulders.
There was much yet to endure, but at least she was doing
something
.

Halcombe parted from Summerton as planned and rode on
over the rise. He kept to a steady pace, fully aware that he was
under observation. The headland was still too distant for him to
catch sight of Jensen. The man surely had a spyglass, but no
matter. The earl was going directly to Clifftop. If Flora and Nancy
were anywhere along the promontory, Colin would find them. Halcombe
had to trust to that and put their well-being out of his mind, if
he was to stay in control of the black stew of rage boiling inside
of him. Any notion that he would fail to overcome the other man had
never entered his head.

The earl knew that he had to keep the cur alive just
long enough to ensure Flora and Nancy were safe. After that, he
could revel in the thought of wrapping his hands firmly around
Jensen’s neck.

The final miles seemed to stretch forever and still
he arrived at Clifftop early. Silence hung heavily over the house,
and the heat-laden air eddied over the sun-baked flagstones of the
walk.