Heirs of Acadia - 02 - The Innocent Libertine (6 page)

“Has there been any word from my daughter?”

“No, ma’am. Nothing at all from Miss Abigail.”

Lillian stepped up close to remind the distraught mother, “Your husband’s office, Lavinia. The strongbox. A purse. Quickly.”

She let her go forward alone. Lillian turned to the maidservant and said, “I am the Countess Houghton, a friend. Do you know what is amiss?”

“Yes, I’m afraid I do, my lady. I heard the man say Newgate Prison!” Her voice broke.

“I need two good stout robes. Black would do best. Something utterly without adornment.”

“Mrs. Aldridge has just such a one. She keeps it for Sabbath occasions.” The maid examined Lillian. “I suppose my own might fit your ladyship. But it’s hardly suitable.”

“That is not something which concerns us this night.”

“No, of course not, my lady. I won’t be a moment.”

Lillian was helping Lavinia back into the coach when the maid hurried down the front stairs, her arms gripping a bundle black as the cloudy sky overhead. “Here you are, ma’am.”

“Thank you.” She lifted her voice. “The magistrate’s!”

“Right you are, ma’am.” Ben Talbot flicked his whip. “Hyah!”

Chapter 5

Edward Huffington resided in a townhouse of brick so dark it looked black in the flickering streetlights. Ben Talbot bounded down from the carriage’s high seat and raced up the front steps. He hammered the big brass knocker and hallooed the house.

Light finally glimmered in the curved window over the door. Lavinia started to move as soon as the door cracked open. Lillian placed two fingers upon Lavinia’s arm and said quietly, “Let your man handle this.”

“But you said it was urgent!”

“Lavinia, I do not know you well enough to ask this, but ask I must. I want you to trust me utterly tonight.”

Lillian was prepared for vehement protests. Instead the other woman examined her for a very long moment, then said quietly, “I have no idea what I would do were you not here beside me.”

“I am quite certain you would have coped splendidly.” Lavinia captured the hand upon her arm. “God’s hand was upon our meeting tonight.”

Had Lavinia slapped Lillian’s face, the shock could not have been any harsher. “What are you saying?”

Ben Talbot’s ruddy features appeared in the carriage door. “His honor ain’t pleased about it, but he’ll see you, ma’am.”

Lillian forced her legs to carry herself up the front steps, Lavinia at her side, and through the confined foyer. Then she turned back long enough to call out through the front door, “Jack—did you not say that was your name?”

“Indeed so, your ladyship.” The man lifted a tattered hat.

“I think you had best join us.”

The butler was minus his powdered wig, and his long coat was buttoned up incorrectly. He glared at the pair of ladies as he held the candle aloft. “The kitchen stove is cold, ma’am, and the cook is abed. I fear—”

“Never mind that, Harry,” said a man behind the butler. “Mrs. Aldridge knows this household keeps to early hours.” The heavyset Mr. Huffington’s hair was mussed, his bulk fitted into an ancient housecoat. But his eyes were warm as he came forward with hand outstretched. “I am certain she would only be here with something urgent.”

The kindness of Huffington’s greeting was enough to dissolve Lavinia’s fragile hold. She burst into tears and gripped the magistrate’s hand with both of hers.

“My dear Mrs. Aldridge, what ever is the matter?”

“A-Abigail!”

“Your daughter? What’s amiss with the lass?”

Lillian replied because Lavinia could not. “She has been arrested.”

The magistrate stared open-mouthed at her. “When?”

“This very night. What is worse still, she has been taken to Newgate.”

Huffington showed genuine shock. “Why is she not being held in the magistrate’s cells at the Old Bailey?”

“I have no idea.”

“Forgive me, you are?”

“Countess Lillian Houghton.”

“Of course, forgive me, madam. It is the hour. You have been pointed out to me on several occasions.” Nestling Lavinia’s hand beneath his arm, he guided them into the parlor. “I would say it is an honor, ma’am, were it not for the circumstances.”

Lillian motioned Jack to follow them. “Jack was apparently there when it happened.”

“Mrs. Aldridge, perhaps Harry should light the stove—”

“Forgive me, sir. But we do not have the time.”

“No. Of course not.” He offered Lavinia his own handkerchief as he looked at the man hovering in the parlor’s doorway. “Jack, did you say?”

“Aye, your worship, sir.”

The magistrate might have been raised from his bed, but his mind obviously was still very sharp. “You’ve stood in chains before the bench a time or two, I warrant.”

“That I have, your worship, sir. Too often to count, if truth be known. But all that’s behind me now, thanks be to the good Lord Jesus and His saving grace.”

“Ah, a believer. Excellent. Which church do you claim?”

“Soho Square, your worship, sir.”

Lillian suggested, “You may address him as Mr. Huffington or Your Honor.”

Huffington helped Lavinia settle into the sofa before saying, “All right, I’m listening.”

“We was passing pamphlets out down Soho way, your wor . . . Mr. Huffington. Our reverend had a new convert working out of a theatre on Cambridge Circus.”

“Who was your leader this night?”

“Derrick Aimes, Your Honor.”

“The former boxer?”

“The very same.” Jack was clearly proud of the recognition. “Reverend Aimes is as powerful a man with the Spirit as he was with his fists.”

“And which theatre did you approach?”

Jack glanced at Lavinia, then reluctantly allowed, “Cambridge Theatre, Your Honor, sir.”

Clearly the name meant nothing to Abigail’s mother. The magistrate, however, looked appalled. “You dragged that innocent girl into the Cambridge? Why, it’s hardly better than a bawdy house.”

“Forgive me,” Lavinia said, her voice a full octave lower than normal. “A what?”

Huffington quickly said, “It’s a figure of speech, my dear woman.” He frowned a warning at Jack. “Really, this is quite extraordinary.”

“We didn’t drag the lass nowhere, Your Honor. Matter of fact, I suggested she take herself off to Leicester Square. But she wasn’t having none of it. And you know what Miss Abigail’s like when she gets her dander up.”

Lavinia leaned forward. “You know my daughter?”

Jack scuffed his boot across the floor.

“Speak up, man. Answer the lady.”

“She’s been with us a time or two,” Jack grudgingly allowed.

Lavinia said shakily, “I-I don’t understand. My daughter has entered Soho on more than one occasion?”

Huffington patted her hand. “We can worry about such things later, my dear Mrs. Aldridge. Right now we must concentrate upon freeing your daughter.” He turned back to Jack. “Would you care to have a seat?”

“No thank you, Your Honor.” Jack remained stationed by the doorway. “So we came into the theatre by the back entrance, and our guide led us up to the stage. I held back when I spied what was what, if you catch my meaning. So did the lass, Abigail. But Reverend Aimes, why, he marches straight out in front and gives them both barrels.”

“I can well imagine,” Huffington said. “I had the occasion to hear him speak a while back. The man was astonishing.”

“Aye, that’s our reverend in a nutshell. So off he goes, and they give it straight back at him, but the pastor, why, he just stands there and shows what it means to turn the other cheek, until . . .”

“Yes, go on, man.”

“There was an officer in the crowd. He didn’t take lightly to the reverend interrupting the night’s entertainment, such as it was. He called back to his men in the upper tiers, and they came tromping down like the footsteps of doom itself.”

“An officer. Did you notice which regiment?”

“Not me, Your Honor. Soon as I saw them soldiers, I was off like a shot. I tried to take the lass with me, and we got partway back to the exit. But then the soldiers came pushing into the backstage area and it was sixes and sevens, your honor. Sixes and sevens. All the ladies screaming and the soldiers shouting and grabbing hold of whoever they can get. But Abigail, she stands out, like. There’s no question but what the little missus don’t belong in that crowd. They latched on to her.”

“And the reverend?”

“Aye, they got him as well. I hung back, found myself a mop and a bucket and stood holding it like it was the rope to heaven itself. The reverend called out for them to let the lass go, begged them. But the officer wasn’t having none of it.”

“You’re certain of where they were taken? This is crucial, man. The officer ordered them straight to Newgate Prison?”

“Heard it with my own ears, I did. The officer, he writes out this paper for the sergeant to hand to the head peeler.”

The magistrate stroked his beard. “He must be with the Royal Horse Guards. Someone with considerable clout. Which makes matters quite serious indeed.”

Lavinia protested, “But surely my daughter has done nothing wrong!”

The magistrate did not bother to respond. Instead, something in Lillian’s expression seemed to catch his eye. Huffington studied her so intently she was tempted to turn away. But she resisted the urge and met the penetrating gaze head on, not attempting to hide anything.

Huffington ventured, “You are familiar with Newgate?”

“By name and reputation. I have, however, visited other such places.”

“You understand the situation?”

She nodded. “I do indeed.”

“What?” Lavinia turned frantically from one to the other. “What is there to understand?”

Huffington’s gaze did not waver. “I cannot be seen to appear in the night, a magistrate taking a personal interest in someone arrested by an officer of the royal household.”

“Indeed not,” Lillian agreed. “It would serve no purpose in regard to Miss Aldridge’s freedom, and destroy your career in the process.”

Huffington’s lips tightened in a grim smile of approval. “I think perhaps Mrs. Aldridge is well served to have you at her side tonight, my lady.”

“You will prepare the request?”

“Most certainly.” Huffington rose and walked to his desk. He drew over a sheet of fresh parchment and dipped his quill into the polished inkwell. He said as he wrote, “Mrs. Aldridge, I would advise you to do whatever the countess suggests.”

“Very well. But what is it you are not telling me?” Her frantic question fell into a long silence.

Huffington finished writing, inspected his work, then dusted the paper before replying. “All you should concern yourself with this night is your daughter’s safe release. Are we clear on this matter?”

Lavinia’s eyes tracked back and forth once more. Something in their set expressions caused her frame to shudder. “Of course I shall do as you advise.”

“Excellent.” He rose from his desk, walked over, and handed the paper to Lillian. “Do be so kind as to have your man report to me once this matter is resolved.”

“It may be quite late, sir.”

“No matter what the hour,” Huffington replied. “I shall not sleep a wink until I hear from you.” He steered Lavinia toward the door with a hand set gently upon her shoulder. “Until that time, I shall be praying as fervently as I know how.”

Chapter 6

The carriage ride from the magistrate’s home to Newgate Prison was a dark and endless trek. They left the fashionable districts behind with their bright streetlamps, carefully tended boulevards, fine townhouses, and broad sheltering trees. For Lillian, they ventured not just into the cramped and fetid lanes of London’s impoverished East End. They also entered a realm that brought on a nightmare of memories.

Lavinia was too anxious to notice. “Abigail has always been an impulsive girl. Not bad natured, nor immoral in her intent. Never that. Which has made it so hard sometimes to discipline her. She is as strong a believer as ever I have met. But tied to this is a nature which—oh, it is so hard to explain.”

Lillian fastened her attention upon the handkerchief Lavinia knotted and coiled with her fingers. But ignoring the scenes outside the carriage did not help. Everywhere she looked, she saw the same thing. “She attracts danger,” Lillian finally said.

“No, not that exactly. But she does so enjoy questioning everything.”

“She seeks out the wrong sort of folk to call friends,” Lillian continued.

“H-how do you know Abigail so well?”

Lillian merely continued, “She launches herself into anything that might appear to offer what her staid life does not.”

The carriage jounced them hard as it pulled to a halt, and then Ben clambered down from up top. “Newgate Prison, ma’am!”

“I must go.” Lillian moved for the door Ben held open. “You must wait here.”

“But shouldn’t I—”

“Remember what I said, Lavinia.” Lillian reached for the dark hooded garment resting on the opposite seat. “It is vital that you do as I say.”

“Wait.” Lavinia extended one hand. “Pray with me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Oh, I know you do not share our faith. But if you are to act as my emissary in this matter, I must at least know you are shielded by prayer.” She motioned Ben forward and then waited while he in turn brought the former thief into their circle. “Oh my dear Lord God,” Lavinia began earnestly, “I have turned to thee on occasions beyond count. But never with a greater need than now. Guide the steps and actions and words of this dear woman, whom I am certain thou hast brought to us in this hour of direst need. Shield her from all who seek to do her harm. Open all locked doors, as thou hast done for other believers before us. Let her speak, and let them hear thy command. Set my daughter free.”

“Amen,” their carriage driver intoned, and Jack as well. “Yes, Lord, and amen.”

“Give me the coin purse,” Lillian said, her voice sounding distant to her own ears. She knotted the purse’s leather strap around a button on her left cuff, then slipped it up her sleeve. Those accustomed to danger carried money in this manner. Normally a small knife with a razor’s edge would be strapped alongside the purse, so a weapon might be drawn when supposedly reaching for money. She saw Jack’s eyes widen at the practiced motions. Lillian did not care what Jack thought. She was so stunned by being prayed over that her mind could scarcely capture any thought at all.