Miss Sophie's Secret (24 page)

Nicky struck a fist onto a nearby lamp table when she had finished. “Dash it all!” he exploded. “This sort of thing can’t be allowed!”

“Yes,” Fairmont agreed. “It’s even worse than I dared suppose.”

“You should contact the Bow Street runners and take a regiment into the area, if necessary, to clean out that scum,” Nicky said to Jonathan.

Sophie pressed a hand to her mouth. “What do you mean to do, Jonathan?”

“I mean to stamp out these vermin,” he told her. “I’ll pay a call on the Lord Mayor today.”

“I’ll go with you,” Fairmont said.

“Me, too,” Nicky chimed in.

Jonathan gave them a nod of appreciation. “But first, gentlemen, I have someone I want you to meet, a Mr. Daniel Griffin. He can lead us to the inn.” He gave the ladies a formal bow. “If you’ll excuse us . . .”

“I’m relieved to hear that they intend to employ the resources of the city rather than mount a frontal attack on the inn,” Jeanette said when the men had gone.

Ellen frowned. “The most shocking thing of all is Albert de Lisle’s behavior. It is difficult to realize that anyone of exalted birth could be so evil.”

“Desperate men do desperate things,” Lady Biskup intoned.

In due time Jeanette and Ellen departed in Fairmont’s carriage. During the remainder of the afternoon, Sophie kept rushing to the window every time there was the sound of hoofbeats or carriage wheels in the square. It was only by practicing Herculean restraint that she was able to resist asking her aunt every few seconds, “Why has Jonathan not returned?”

He was still abroad at dinnertime, which surprised them both. Before they had completed their meal, they allowed themselves the luxury of speculating and indulging in a modicum of anxiety.

“Is it possible Jonathan has fallen into Albert’s clutches after all?” Sophie wondered, her chin trembling. “Do you think Albert may have been freed and then laid in wait for him and murdered him in cold blood?”

“No, no,” Lady Biskup protested, though in a less-than-convincing tone. “He would certainly be able to defend himself. He has taken Fairmont and Nicky with him. And both of the guards he employed insisted on accompanying him, though I was not easy in my mind about seeing Jim out of his bed so soon after his misadventures at the Frost Fair.”

When it was finally time to retire, Sophie was further alarmed to discover a red-eyed Anna waiting in her rooms to undress her.

“Whatever is the matter?” she asked her. “Have you and Johnnie Aysgarth quarreled?”

“In a way, miss,” Anna admitted, but then stoutly refused to confide more.

* * * *

Morning dawned with no news of Jonathan. Anna went about her business with a face as glum as any Sophie had ever seen. To help relieve some of her own concern, Sophie dug into her jewelry box for the diamond and sapphire earring she had kept hidden all these years and carried it to her Aunt Ruth’s room.

Lady Biskup was sitting upright in bed, a ruffled cap drawn over her hair while she sipped hot tea with cream from her favorite antique cup.

Sophie showed her the earring.

“Yes,” her aunt said. “Check in my jewelry case—the bottom layer. If I’m not mistaken, you’ll find its mate there.”

Sophie dug into the box and drew out a matching diamond and sapphire earring.

“Those were Pamela’s earrings,” Lady Biskup told her. “Arthur gave them to her when they discovered that you were expected. Now the pair is yours.”

At that moment, Lettie entered the room with a note on a silver salver.

“Ah,” Lady Biskup said, “this will be a letter from Jonathan, putting our minds at ease.” She unfolded the paper, and a look of alarm crossed her face. “But no! What is this? It’s from Blanche, and is all scratches and blots. If I can decipher it . . . What can this mean?”

Suddenly she realized that Lettie was standing nearby, listening with interest.

“Would you please bring a cup for Miss Sophie?” she asked her maid. “She would like to have some tea.”

As soon as Lettie had departed, Lady Biskup turned to Sophie with a scowl. “Listen to this: ‘You wretched creatures . . .’ Yes, I assure you, that’s what it says. ‘Ruining our lives . . . my precious son and Fairmont . . . murdered last night.’ Good God! And then there are a great many blotches and scratches and . . . yes, I believe a tear has fallen here—there is an enormous smear.”

“What can it mean?” Sophie asked. “Have Nicky and Fairmont been murdered?”

At that moment Lettie entered the room with Sophie’s teacup.

“Perhaps you can enlighten us, Lettie. Have you heard rumors of Mr. Nicholas Althorpe or the earl of Fairmont coming to grief?”

“No, m’lady,” she said. “I believe they were victorious.”

“Vic—what happened?”

“Master Jon—er, Lord Jonathan led a sort of
expedition
across the river last night. I’m not quite sure of the details, but Johnnie Aysgarth was there, m’lady.”

Sophie perked up. “Is Johnnie back?”

“Yes, miss. He be downstairs.” She turned to Lady Biskup. “Mayhap m’lady would wish to have him give you a more accurate account.”

“I certainly would,” Lady Biskup confirmed.

As soon as Sophie and Lady Biskup were dressed, they made their way quickly down to the library, where Johnnie Aysgarth was waiting for them. He was sporting a sticking plaster over his left eyebrow and a bruise along the right side of his jaw, but he was in excellent spirits and was eager to share his adventures with his mistress.

“Aye, m’lady, it were a grand brawl,” he told her, chuckling. “Twenty-four went from this hoos and fifty-four from t’others—Althorpes’, Fairmonts’ and even Fergusons’. We was eighty-two men strong.”

“Eighty-two!” Lady Biskup cried.

“Aye, an’ it were none too many, m’lady.”

By the time he had babbled out his tale, including a vivid reenactment of his bout with a denizen of the innkeeper’s who had been “big as a ’orse an’ twicet as vicious,” and after Sophie and Lady Biskup had asked a great many questions, they were able to piece the story together.

Jonathan, Fairmont and Nicky had left Vaile House with Daniel Griffin in tow and had gone to visit the Lord Mayor. Jonathan had recounted his and Sophie’s adventures and demanded that steps be taken to “clean out those hell holes on the other side of the Thames.”

The Lord Mayor had shaken his hands helplessly, citing statistics that dealt with the limited number of men available for such a task, the limited funds available for the provision of weapons, and the vast number of pressing obligations that weighed down on these already meager resources. He had ended by suggesting that the facilities at Bow Street might be employed to some advantage.

Jonathan and his friends had promptly visited Bow Street, where they had been cordially received by the man in charge. But here they discovered that only three runners were available to assist in any number of crises, as the others were all abroad in the countryside and were being held captive by the heavy snowfall. From there, Jonathan, Fairmont and Nicky made their way to Ferguson’s house for a conference.

The four men had agreed that times were indeed dire, that conditions within the realm had deteriorated shockingly since medieval days, and that the role of the gentleman in English society was to protect the weak from oppression and the country from depravity. They decided to round up a force of stout men and rid the city of certain dregs of the earth.

Shortly after midnight a small army of men led by Jonathan and guided by Daniel Griffin made a swift sortie across the river. They raided the inn, where, after a fierce battle, they subdued over seventy ruffians, including that nasty little coachman. The prisoners were shackled into several carts and sent off to the nearest prison. Miss Baxter was escorted home to her ailing mother and given a stern warning to never leave the old lady alone again.

“But what of Mr. de Lisle?” Sophie asked Johnnie Aysgarth.

“We didn’t see ’im when we coom in the inn, so Lord Jonathan ran up to th’ room at th’ top o’ th’ stairs.”

“And?” she prompted.

“De Lisle were layin’ in the dark, trussed up like a Christmas turkey.”

* * * *

Shortly after noon Sophie heard muffled sounds in the dining room below her. With a bound she flew out of her chair and raced out into the hall.

The noises had stopped. She waited a moment, listening, and then tiptoed down the stairs and over to the dining room door.

When she peered in, she discovered to her delight that Jonathan was sitting at one end of the table slumped forward with his face buried on his arms.

As if he sensed her standing there, he raised his head, smiled at her, and held out his arms. “Come kiss me, beloved, before one of our well-meaning attendants blunders in and spoils our reunion.”

Sophie threw herself into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.

He gave her a long, urgent kiss.

“But where have you been?” she asked when he drew away to catch his breath.

“Daniel Griffin and I loaded Albert De Lisle into a cart and took him to prison, and I stayed to speak with the magistrate.”

Sophie leaned her head against his shoulder. “Now that he’s where he belongs we can think of more important things, like announcing our engagement.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” he said. “Let’s announce our wedding. I’m not too keen on the idea of waiting until April or June, and going through all that nonsense. I feel as though I’ve waited five years already, which is more than long enough. If I get a special license, will you marry me tomorrow?’

“Tomorrow?” Her voice showed her surprise.

He put a finger under her chin, lifted her face. “Then I can take you home to the Priory with me when I go there on business next week.”

“I’d like that,” she said. “I really want to go home.”

“Promise me something,” he said, looking into her glowing brown eyes.

“Yes?” she said, her smile igniting from his.

“No ducks at our wedding.”

“No ducks,” she agreed on a laugh.

And they sealed the bargain with a kiss.

Copyright © 2014 by Fran Baker

Originally published by Delphi Books

Electronically published in 2014 by Belgrave House/Regency

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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.