Rogue's Honor (36 page)

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Authors: Brenda Hiatt

Tags: #romance, #historical romance, #regency romance, #romance historical, #brenda hiatt, #regency rogue

BOOK: Rogue's Honor
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Pearl believed she understood. "Then it was
because of, ah, prior events that he was apprehended?"

"So it would seem."

They drove in silence until reaching the Park
gates, at which point Luke pulled to a halt and turned to the
groom. "Sam, take Lady Pearl's abigail for a turn about the loop
here. The lady and I wish to walk for a bit."

Luke helped Pearl out of the curricle and the
groom obeyed without question, though Hettie frowned and craned her
neck to watch her mistress as they drove on. "Sam is new," Luke
explained the moment they were out of earshot. "One or two of my
other servants have vouched for him, but I don't know him well
myself yet. No point in running unnecessary risks."

"How much
do
your servants know about
you?" Pearl asked curiously.

He shrugged. "Flute knows the most of course,
and a fair number are lads I knew from before —lads who deserved a
chance at a better life."

"Boys who also helped you to steal?" she
asked dubiously. She'd nearly managed to forget that distasteful
aspect of Luke's former "career."

"No, no. Flute is the only one who ever
worked directly with me, and never in any actual robberies. He
merely helped me convert my, er, takings into coin. I had
opportunity to get to know several of his street mates, however,
and did what I could to better their lot— which wasn't much, until
recently."

Pearl's heart swelled with admiration for the
man he was, then and now, but she returned to the matter at hand,
knowing they didn't have much time. "But now Flute has been
arrested as your former accomplice?"

"Yes. I had the news of Mrs. Plank —she's the
one who found Argos. It seems Flute walked him down to Seven Dials
to visit a few old cronies of his, while he was making himself
scarce yesterday morning."

Pearl flushed at the memory of why Luke would
have given him such instructions, but he continued without seeming
to notice.

"Apparently word was all over the streets
today that Flute was apprehended not far from there —at my old
lodgings, in fact. It seems the place was still being watched. I'd
have thought Bow Street would have moved on to other matters by
now. The Mountheaths must be paying them well." He shook his
head.

"Do you know where he is being held? Perhaps
we need merely pay a fine, or—"

"Yes, that's odd, as well. He's already been
locked up in Newgate, though there's been no time for a hearing as
yet. An unusual precaution, considering the trifling nature of his
crime, I must say. As unusual as the publicity surrounding his
capture."

Pearl thought for a moment as they slowly
strolled along. "Perhaps they are concerned —or hoping? —that the
Saint might try to rescue him."

Luke sent her a grim smile. "My thought
exactly —which leaves me with a bit of a dilemma, as you might
imagine. I can hardly leave him there to rot in my stead, after
all."

"But if they are expecting you . . . Wait, I
may have an idea. But first, tell me of your meeting with
Bellowsworth. Has it not yet taken place?"

He shook his head. "His second— Ribbleton—
did not even call upon mine until late last evening, Marcus tells
me. They've set the meeting for Friday morning, two days
hence."

She snorted. "I'd have thought he'd have
wanted to get it over quickly, but perhaps he is hoping the delay
will allow him a chance to avoid it altogether." A sudden thought
struck her. "Could he have been involved in Flute's arrest, think
you?"

"I doubt it, as it must have happened before
I issued the challenge. Merely a lucky coincidence for him, I
imagine, should my rescue attempt prove unsuccessful."

"But it won't! Here's my idea." Quickly she
outlined her simple plan, but he was shaking his head even before
she could finish.

"I can't let you involve yourself in this,
Pearl. It's too risky."

"Far less risky than if you go alone —as
yourself. Surely you must see that? Even if we are unsuccessful, no
blame will attach to me. But what about your part in this scheme?
Can you do it?"

"I'm sure I can, but—"

"Then it's settled." Her tone brooked no
argument. She knew she was being high-handed again, but she didn't
care. Luke's safety was too important to her.

He walked beside her in silence for a long
while, frowning, clearly weighing various options. Finally, just as
the curricle approached them again, he said, "Very well. But I
reserve the right to call the whole thing off if I believe for a
moment that you could be in any danger."

"Agreed," she said cheerfully, her spirits
higher than they'd been since they parted yesterday.

They hadn't had any opportunity to discuss
their own future, but she was willing to leave that for another
time. It was enough to know he still cared, and that she could be
of use to him.

"It has been some time since I went on a
charitable crusade," Pearl said as Luke handed her back into the
curricle. "I'm sure I will feel the better for the one I plan
tomorrow."

"An admirable undertaking, my lady— one I
mean to emulate someday." Luke took his place on her right and
flicked the reins, putting the pair into a trot.

As the Duchess had never shown any interest
in charity, Pearl was confident she could convince her to let her
go alone, with only a servant or two. As they drove back to
Oakshire House, she was already eagerly anticipating tomorrow's
adventure.

* * *

Luke had to admire Pearl's command as he
followed her into the courtyard of Newgate Prison the next morning,
along with John Marley, her erstwhile groom, and her abigail,
Hettie. Dressed in nondescript, nonidentifiable livery, Luke was
masquerading as a manservant, while she was every inch the grand
lady out to do good among the poor and downtrodden.

"You there! Guard!" she called to a uniformed
man standing near the outer door. "I have brought clothing for the
prisoners, and wish to dispense advice to some of the women as
well. Summon the chaplain, if you please."

At her nod, Luke and the others pulled
bundles of old clothing, discards of the Oakshire servants, from
the carriage.

"Of . . . of course, my lady," the guard
stammered, then disappeared inside.

Pearl turned to Luke the moment he was gone.
"Where is he being held?" she whispered. "Were you able to find
out?"

"On the second storey, near the back right
corner, in an individual cell." Two of his footmen, formerly fellow
climbing boys with Flute, had been only too eager to undertake a
reconaissance mission last night to discover the specifics.

"I'll make certain we go near that area, then
will keep everyone's attention diverted and trust you to do the
rest. If we should—" She broke off as the guard returned, followed
not by Reverend Cotton, whom Pearl had encountered twice before
when performing similar charity work, but by an officious gaoler
who identified himself as a Mr. Werner.

"My lady, we are most honored," he exclaimed,
"and the prisoners will be most grateful, I assure you. Your
generosity will earn you an exalted place in heaven."

Pearl inclined her head regally. "No doubt,
Mr. Werner. At present, however, I am merely concerned with giving
some relief to these poor unfortunates here below. Pray take me to
them."

"Your . . . your ladyship wishes to enter the
prison itself? But the conditions are most unsanitary and unsafe.
If you will just leave the—"

"No, Mr. Werner, to witness those conditions
is a part of my mission, that I may report upon them to my father,
the Duke." Luke had to hide a grin at her imperiousness. "If you
fear for my safety, I suggest you summon every possible man to
accompany me as a guard. Perhaps they may be edified by what I
shall have to say as we proceed."

The turnkey scurried to do her bidding,
returning a few minutes later with half a dozen men, most of them
looking as brutish as any of the criminals in their care. "Shall we
go then, my lady?"

Pearl motioned for the rest of the clothing
to be brought from the carriage, and had it distributed among her
increased entourage. Luke passed into the dark confines of Newgate
along with the rest of them.

"The very air here is depressing," exclaimed
Pearl, sniffing disdainfully. "This atmosphere cannot be conducive
to a spirit of rehabilitation, Mr. Werner. Pray make a note of it."
She thrust a small notebook and a pencil at the gaoler.

The man muttered something, nodding and
scribbling, as Pearl continued her pronouncements on the lack of
light and the narrowness of the passages. When they reached the
first block of cells, she stopped in evident horror.

"Such crowded conditions, Mr. Werner!
Unsanitary indeed, and most prone to the spread of contagion, I
should imagine. Are all prisoners crammed into bunches like
this?"

"Ah, no, my lady, not all," he stammered.
"The more dangerous criminals, and the condemned, are often put
into private cells, separating their vicious influence from the
others." He pointed down a dim passage to their left.

Pearl turned to look, then caught Luke's eye
with a questioning glance. He nodded, almost imperceptibly. Based
on his information, somewhere along that corridor was where Flute
was imprisoned.

"I feel the need of a few more of your men
about me," Pearl declared with an elaborate shudder that made Luke
smile in spite of the seriousness of the situation. "Then I wish
you to take me to the women's cells. Here, let these items be
distributed here."

As Mr. Werner called for more guards, Pearl
had most of the men's clothing separated into a pile, which she
indicated the largest of the guards should distribute to the
prisoners. In the confusion, it was an easy matter for Luke to slip
down the corridor leading to the private cells, pressing himself
into the first doorway he reached until the augmented group had
moved on.

As he had hoped, and as Pearl had no doubt
intended, whatever guard had been posted outside Flute's tiny cell
had now been pressed into service for her protection. Trying not to
think about what risk she might be running or the sights assailing
her sensibilities, Luke hurried to the last door on the right, to
whisper through the keyhole.

"Flute? Are you in there?"

"Aye, sir!" came the immediate reply. "Squint
said you'd be comin' for me today."

"Just a moment, then." A quick glance up the
passage showed it still empty. Pulling a set of lock picks from his
pocket, Luke fitted one into the keyhole with a deftness borne of
long practice. In a few seconds he had the door open.

Flute greeted him with a grin. "I'm right
glad to see you ain't lost your touch, sir!"

"As am I," Luke responded, "but we haven't
much time. Come—no, this way." He led the way, in the opposite
direction Pearl and the others had gone.

Just as they reached the corner, however, a
burly guard appeared right in front of them. "Hoy there! Who are
you and where d'ye think ye're goin'?"

Rather than attempt a reply, Luke smiled at
the man, grabbed Flute by the wrist, and turned to run the other
way. After a startled moment, the guard followed in hot pursuit,
but Luke hoped they had all the lead they would need.

Rounding another corner, he saw Pearl and her
entourage just entering the women's wing. She glanced his way and
at once halted and raised her hands to distract the attention of
the others. Luke slowed his pace to a quick walk.

"My good men, upholders of the laws of
England!" Pearl cried as he approached. "As we observe the plight
of these pitiable women, I want to be certain you see everything
with eyes full open, as I shall. For you will be held accountable
at the final judgement for how you treat these poor misguided
wretches."

Luke and Flute approached the group, then
turned down another passage leading back toward the main entrance,
before the guard in pusuit came around the corner behind them.

"Where . . . where did they go?" he heard the
guard say as he reached the group, interrupting Pearl's impromptu
sermon. Luke and Flute kept walking, making as little noise as
possible.

"I beg your pardon!" came her indignant
response. "Why are you not with your fellows? Mr. Werner, did you
not promise me every available man for my protection?"

"I did indeed, my lady," responded the
gaoler. "Mr. Fithers, why were you not at your post earlier?"

Luke did not wait to hear the man's
explanation. Still holding Flute by the wrist, he rounded the next
corner, then released him. "Here, put this on." He handed Flute the
suit of clothes he'd brought along for the purpose.

"Aye, sir!" Donning the cleaner, more
respectable garb, Flute grinned. "She's a plucky one, and no
mistake."

"She is indeed," Luke replied. He hoped she
would not bring any suspicion on herself for thwarting his capture
just now.

Then Flute startled him by asking, "D'ye mean
to marry her, sir?"

Luke led him to the prison entrance, still
mercifully unlocked and unguarded, before answering. "Time enough
to worry about that later. Right now my concern is to get you
safely home."

Warned by his tone not to pursue the matter,
Flute accompanied him out into the street and around the corner in
silence, leaving Luke to his thoughts.

The past half-hour had reminded him vividly
of who he'd been until just a few weeks ago. He also knew now
beyond all doubt that the authorities had not given up their hunt
for the Saint of Seven Dials. Though a lifetime with Pearl would be
heaven on earth, had he any right to risk her happiness, even her
safety, should the truth about him become public knowledge?

He honestly didn't know.

CHAPTER 21

The hour Pearl spent at Newgate was one of
the longest of her life. The suffering and squalor she saw there
only reinforced her determination to institute social reforms, but
it was Luke who primarily occupied her mind. She had deflected the
pursuing guard, but had he escaped Newgate without being
recognized? Where would he hide Flute so that he could not be
found? And what of that dreaded duel tomorrow?

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