Redemption (10 page)

“I have
never felt so bloody useless in my life,” Ben snarled suddenly when
Barnaby came to stand beside him. “I would like to say that Julian
is capable of being a killer, but he is too lazy. He is selfish to
the core, but too busy gambling to be bothered with anything else.”
He turned to face the room. “He definitely threw Lizzie out. If he
knows where she is, and hasn’t hurt her, I just don’t understand
why he allowed himself to be carted off to jail for her
murder.”

“
I have to admit that it looks suspicious that anyone would
risk being jailed and possibly hung for a crime he didn’t commit if
he knew where to find someone who would get him his freedom back,”
Marcus sighed. “Maybe he genuinely doesn’t know where she has
gone.”

“What do
I do to find her then? How do I go about finding someone who has
simply vanished off the face of the earth?”

“You
sound as though you care about this woman a great deal,” Barnaby
mused, doubtful that this was actually good news considering what
he had just heard. “She must be very beautiful to have captured
your attention in such a way.”

Ben snorted and looked at his friend ruefully. “I have been
trying to capture Lizzie’s attention in the ballrooms of the
bloody
ton
for
several months now. It has been damned near impossible to get
anywhere near her because of beady eyed gossips and matronly mama’s
seemingly dogging her every footstep. It has been a nightmare. On
the night of the ball, I decided to take matters into my own hands.
Unfortunately, Julian caught us and made a very public display of
disowning her.”

“He did
it publically?”

Ben
nodded, wincing at the memory of the humiliation she had endured on
that fateful evening. “She was so damned beautiful and bore it with
all of the grace and elegance of royalty. If I had known that would
be the last time I would see her I would never have allowed her to
go home with that man.”

“She was
gone by the next morning.” Marcus’ words weren’t a
question.

“Julian
claims she had gone before he woke up, but the staff didn’t see her
leave the house. Nobody saw her, or heard from her after her
argument with Julian.”

“Then we
shall do what we can to find her. She must be in London somewhere.”
His eyes met Ben’s. “Dead or alive, she has to be there
somewhere.”

Ben
sighed and felt more despondent than ever. “I have searched
everywhere several times over. Julian did see fit to give me some
names of her friends, but they are either out of town or are in
town but haven’t heard from her. I just don’t know where to go from
here. Julian is adamant he didn’t harm her. He says she just left
but I just cannot see her doing something like that. She doesn’t
seem to be that type.”

“Then if
she is in London somewhere, we will find her,” Marcus declared
confidently. “We have men on the ground – contacts. If you give us
her description we can circulate it and make sure that everyone
starts to search. She may have gone to a work house, a women’s
refuge, or something like that.”

“I have
tried numerous places but they seem reluctant to tell me anything.
They all claim not to have seen her but are closed mouthed about
the women who have been admitted of late,” Ben reported
morosely.

Barnaby
snorted. “Yes, but we have the weight of the government behind us.
They may lie to you but they won’t lie to us. Trust me, we will
find her if she is in London somewhere.”

“First
thing we do is circulate the description to the coaching offices,
and see if anyone remembers seeing her,” Marcus added.

“I have
and no they haven’t,” Ben sighed.

Marcus
nodded. “Yes, but you haven’t asked the Star Elite way,” he
declared knowingly.

Ben’s
brows lifted and he looked at both men while he waited for them to
explain, but they didn’t.

“Leave
it to us, my good friend. I promise you we will find her,” Barnaby
added, trying to sound positive but failing to hide his concern.
“First things first, I think we have to take advantage of Julian
being in jail.”

“How?”
Ben asked, his brows lifted.

Barnaby
shared a look with Marcus and smiled. “We need to search Pendlebury
House.”

“When
can we leave?” Ben asked, nodding his thanks when Barnaby refilled
his glass.

“First
thing in the morning my good friend,” Marcus mused with a
reassuring smile.

Ben
nodded his thanks, too worried to say anything else.

CHAPTER
FOUR

Lizzie
coughed against the acrid taste of smoke in the back of her throat
and watched the thick plume of smoke billow out of the kitchen door
and vanish into the clouds above.

“Patty?”
she asked in amazement as she turned to find her aunt casually
picking flowers. “What are you doing?”

Flames
were already visible through the kitchen window, but Patty appeared
to be completely oblivious to the fact that if they didn’t do
something to put the fire out they would have nowhere to live. The
last few minutes had been a harrowing ordeal for Lizzie, who had
woken up to the smell of smoke and a thick haze filling the room.
The pop and crackle of wood downstairs had warned her something
dire was happening, and she had launched out of bed while dragging
her clothes on in a desperate race to get out of the burning house
alive. What she had found when she got downstairs was the kitchen
well ablaze, and her aunt humming unconcernedly while casually
polishing the furniture in the front room.

“Oh,
dear, I forgot to close the door again, didn’t I?” Patty had asked
with a frown as she turned to look at Lizzie and finally noticed
what was going on in her kitchen. “Strange, but I could have sworn
I closed it. That is most odd. Most decidedly odd.”

“The
bucket isn’t enough,” Lizzie gasped when Patty stared blankly at an
empty bucket lying on the grass thoughtfully, but made no attempt
to fetch it.

“We need
help,” Lizzie muttered. She gazed helplessly at the empty moors at
the rear of the house and shook her head as a feeling of being
completely overwhelmed sank in. Even if she could find someone in
the village to help put the fire out, the house would be completely
gutted by the time she got back. It was useless.

“Here,
let me get a bucket,” Patty murmured, glancing blankly around the
garden for a moment. She turned toward the house and was about to
throw the bucket through the door when Lizzie snatched it off
her.

“Go and
stand over there,” Lizzie snapped, her patience suddenly gone. “I
mean it, stop this right now. Go and stand over there and don’t
move.”

Even
though she knew her aunt’s condition was seriously odd, Lizzie was
short on patience right now. It was down to her, and her alone to
do what she could to save the house. If only she had a clue what
she was supposed to do.

“’
ere miss, stand back,” a voice suddenly growled from behind
her.

She
almost wept with relief when she watched several burly men come
storming around the side of the house with numerous buckets and
ladders, and set to work putting the fire out. The swift way they
filled the buckets, established a line of men, and began to dampen
the flames was so swift that all Lizzie could do was stand to one
side and stare in amazement. It appeared that people from the
village had seen the smoke and rushed to help put the fire out but
how they had managed to get there so quickly was anyone’s
guess.

Gently
ushering her aunt to one side of the now crowded garden, Lizzie
watched the men work. She had no idea what this meant for either of
their futures now, but had no choice but to watch helplessly while
her life was, once again, thrown into turmoil.

Several
hours later, with the winds picking up speed and storm clouds
threatening a deluge, Lizzie helped her aunt out of the front door
and closed it carefully behind her. The house was badly damaged,
the kitchen rendered useless by the fire that had destroyed most of
the back of the building. Although it wasn’t completely beyond
repair, it was going to take a lot of time and money to put right,
and it was money she rather suspected Patty didn’t have.

“Come
along,” Lizzie murmured to her now distressed relative.

“Where
are we going, dear?” Patty twittered. “I mean, shouldn’t we try to
go inside and clean one or two of the rooms? We could stay in them
while we put things right.” Doubt laced her voice and it was clear
that although she spoke the words, she wasn’t convinced it was at
all possible either.

“We
can’t, Patty. We have no kitchen to cook in. The upstairs bedroom
has gone completely at the rear of the house, and the other room is
full of smoke. Even if we clean what we can, the floor isn’t safe
because half of the joists have gone. The house could quite
conceivably collapse around us if we remain in there a moment
longer.” She glanced up at the darkening sky and drew her cloak
around her with a shiver. “Especially if these winds get any
stronger.”

“But
where should we go? Oh, dear, this is all I have,” Patty fretted.
“I cannot put it right. I cannot put it right.”

“Don’t
trouble yourself so,” Lizzie soothed, fighting her own desperation.
“For now we have been offered rooms at the tavern. That’s nice of
them, isn’t it? We can remain there while we decide what to do
next. Don’t distress yourself. It will serve no
purpose.”

Sensing
Patty was about to object, Lizzie picked up their bags and ushered
her aunt toward the waiting cart. Now that the fire had been put
out most of the villagers were already making their way to the
tavern for a drink. Thankfully, a kindly farmer had remained behind
with his cart, and was waiting to drive them to their new
accommodation.

Once in
the cart, she studied the house she had spent the last several
weeks in as it disappeared into the distance. If she was honest,
she would be glad to see the back of the place. Although its demise
presented her with a whole new set of problems, she couldn’t help
but feel that Patty would do considerably better if she didn’t live
in such isolation, and was at least close enough to people to be
able to call good morning to someone if she wanted to. Given the
alarming state of her mental health, Lizzie wondered if she
wouldn’t be better off in an asylum somewhere.

That
thought made her feel less than Christian, and she quickly blanked
it out. After everything Patty had done for her, she couldn’t just
leave her to the dubious confines of such an establishment. Right
now, Patty was all the family Lizzie had, and it was down to her to
make sure that Patty had somewhere to stay now that she too needed
a refuge.

It was
only later, when Patty had fallen into an exhausted slumber in the
large bed beside her that Lizzie was finally able to clear her own
muddled thoughts, and remembered the unwelcome letters in her bag.
She had purposely blocked them out of her mind. They were something
she had intended to think about another day; when she had
absolutely nothing else to do, and most probably no will to live.
Right now though they positively burned a hole through the bottom
of her bag, demanding she read them. It felt as though she was only
adding to her problems because she knew exactly who they were from.
However, she had nothing else to do right now. Sleep was impossible
because curiosity was getting the better of her. She knew she
wouldn’t settle until she opened the letters she had received over
the last couple of weeks; even if she didn’t want to learn the
contents.

“Best
get all of your troubles dealt with at once, then you can get on
with your own life,” Lizzie warned herself as she pushed out of bed
and made her way to her bag on the dresser.

Her hand
visibly shook as she removed the two carefully folded parchments.
She knew that seal like the back of her hand, and hated the sender
with everything she had. For a moment she wanted to throw the
wretched things into the fire and dismiss them, and him, from her
mind once and for all. They were most probably threats or something
equally as vile. The last thing she wanted was to be burdened by
them right now.

“But you
are burdened by them,” she whispered, staring down at the black
lettering that stood out starkly against the pale
parchment.

“What
are they dear?” Patty asked sleepily from the depths of the
blankets.

Lizzie
gasped and stared at her aunt. “I didn’t realise you were awake,”
she murmured as she studied the letters in her hand. “These arrived
several days ago.”

“Who are
they from?”

“Julian.”

That
elicited an inelegant snort from Patty that brought a smile to
Lizzie’s lips. “What does that scoundrel want?”

She
shook her head. “I don’t know. I haven’t opened them yet. I don’t
doubt they are unpleasant.”

“Open
them,” Patty urged. “Read them and then throw them into the fire.
That man is nothing short of a waste of air. You would be a fool to
pay any attention to anything he has to say.”