The House in Grosvenor Square (38 page)

“You are not here to pay for doing something right. You are here for all the wrongs you've done in the past.”

Antoine merely looked at him, fuming inwardly.

Mr. Mornay took a breath, looked out the barred window, and then turned back to the young man. “I can get you out of here, you know.”

His look changed. He was disarmed but wary. “You would do that? For what in return?”

“For your help in assuring that your brother will cease being a threat to my bride. Further, I can convince the Herleys to allow your suit with their daughter. But for that you must promise to live a decent life, hence-forward.”

“I
want
to do that, sir! I would like nothing better! I give you my word!” The young man's response had been so strong and earnest and heartfelt that Mornay almost smiled. But there was more to settle.

“You cannot game away your allowance.”

“I have no allowance. I don't see how we'll manage, if you must know.”

“I will arrange one for you.”

Lord Antoine was speechless with surprise—and wonder.

“I will allot a stipend to your wife. If you squander it by gaming or being often in your cups, it will cease. You will be ruined. Do you understand?”

“I do! I don't know what to say. Your generosity and goodness to me… to us…I cannot fathom it!”

“One more thing,” Mornay added. “I'll expect you to be at my service, if I ever require it.”

“I can live with that,” he responded.

“And one thing more,” added the Paragon, having just thought of it.

“Yes?”

“You must faithfully attend church in whatever parish you reside.”

At first Antoine was silent. He smiled a little. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Do you attend yourself, may I ask?”

“I do.”

The man looked surprised but nodded. “Very well. You have my word.”

Mr. Mornay hesitated, as yet another requirement came to mind. Would the lad stand for one thing more? He had to try. “I have thought of one more thing.”

Now Holliwell looked wary, but he recognized the humour of it and said, “You'll have to put them in writing for me to remember them all at this rate.”

“I most certainly will. All the arrangements will be in a legal document for referral at any time.”

“What is it?” He almost held his breath. It must be some great thing, he felt, for he noted how Mornay was hesitating, choosing his words.

“When the matter is settled with your brother, meaning he is no longer a threat to me, I want you to agree to pray with me. For your salvation.”

Lord Antoine just gaped at him for a moment. “Did you say ‘
pray'
with you, sir?”

“I did.”

“Pray— as in ‘Our Father, who art in heaven'? That kind of prayer?”

“Something like that.”

Lord Holliwell was very tempted to laugh but did not want to insult his deliverer. He turned to him with a grin and said, “I think I can manage that.”

“Good.” Mr. Mornay held out his hand and then smiled that rare, handsome smile that most people found irresistible. Lord Antoine was no exception, and he smiled back, vastly relieved, and shook Mr. Mornay's hand effusively.

“I don't know how to thank you!”

“I'll give you an opportunity, my boy. You must help me locate your brother and settle whatever matter he holds against me.”

“Are you not aware of it, sir? What he has against you?”

Mornay sighed. “I believe it must be the fact that I was present on an occasion when he lost a fortune, some thirty thousand pounds.”

“I remember that!”

“Do you? Do you also remember that your sibling tried to kill the man who'd won against him rather than surrender his losses?”

Antoine shook his head. “No, sir. He said nothing of that to me. What stopped him?” And as soon as he asked, he knew. The look on Mornay's face confirmed it. “I see.”

“I could hardly allow him to kill a man to avoid a debt of honour.”

“Of course not.”

“Your brother has blamed me for the loss of his circumstances since then, though I wasn't a part of the game, and God knows I never encourage a man to play so deeply in his pocket.”

“Julian knows no restraint when it comes to gaming, sir. That wouldn't have been the first time he lost a large sum, nor was it the last. I fail to see why he has set upon you for revenge.”

“Very likely it was nothing more than opportunity. Your grudge against me coincided with his own, and it was a scheme he thought you would share in.” Mr. Mornay looked at Lord Antoine gravely. “But he doesn't give it up without you. He keeps to his purpose, eh?”

The young man nodded. “It appears so. He even took Miss Herley, the blackguard!”

“The thing is we have to halt his activities. Do I have your word that you will help me find him? I will push to see him transported, of course. I doubt there will be any settling with him.”

As they walked back, joined by the man who had escorted them down the dank corridor and provided the light, Antoine warned, “Beware, Mr. Mornay. If Julian thinks you'll pay him off, he'll accept the arrangement. Only you can't trust him in future. If he games it away or even spends it, he'll want more.”

“I have no intention of settling financially in that way with him.”

“'E stops 'ere, guvnor.”

The voice of the jail keeper startled Mr. Mornay. They stopped and shook hands again. “I'll see to your release at once.”

Mr. Mornay turned to go, but Antoine had a troubled expression and said, “Sir?”

Mr. Mornay turned to face him.

“I am very grateful for your help, believe me, but I must know. What made you trust me? What made you willing to settle with me so generously, when you won't do so for my brother?”

Mornay thought for a moment. “I'm not certain,” he replied, to his own amusement. “Perhaps it was Miss Herley. She spoke so eloquently of your innocence.”

Twenty minutes later, after which a bank note had changed hands and papers were signed, the young prisoner was fetched and presented to Mr. Mornay.

Lord Antoine was a free man.

I
n the second parlour where Ariana and Miss Herley were engrossed in rapturous conversation about men and marriage and other such taboo subjects, Ariana's head popped up in sudden alarm. She looked to the large double doors of the room saying, “My aunt is coming. I'm afraid our topic of conversation will have to change, Lavinia.”

“Alas, yes.” And then she gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.

“What is it?” Ariana asked.

“I forgot! I never told my family I was coming here! I was afraid they'd prohibit it.”

“We'll send a messenger,” Ariana replied.

“I have no money for such.”

“I'll have Freddie do it. He keeps a purse for such things. All butlers do. Doesn't your man?”

Before she could answer, Mrs. Bentley had opened a door and was already speaking. “My dear! Haines has just sent to inform me that your family has arrived! They are waiting for us at my house. We cannot demand they all come here. Let us go at once and, if Mr. Mornay wishes you to spend the night beneath his roof, then so be it. But for now, we must go! The carriage is at the curb, my gels. Quickly now, and be smart about it!”

Ariana came to her feet agitated. “My word! I haven't seen my family for near three months! But I dare not go! What would Mr. Mornay say?”

“He is an understanding man,” opined Miss Herley, “on occasion. Not to mention that he adores you.” She smiled. “I think you are perfectly safe in this. How could you refuse to see your own family?”

“Lavinia, only recall his words to me. He forbade me to leave the house!
I dare not, I tell you.” She looked at her aunt. “You must bring my family here, Aunt.”

“My dear! With the work going on? That won't answer. Recall that we are in the second parlour because the workmen have taken over the other. And the dining room is equally unfit for guests. We shall see them at Hanover Square.”

Ariana seemed to be considering the matter. She brought her hands together in thought, strode to the window, and stood, looking down at the street below. She saw that Mrs. Bentley's coach was indeed at the curb. The thought of her family being in Mayfair was such a happy one!

But Mr. Mornay is soon to be my husband. I can not shirk his wishes, not after such a disaster as resulted when I called upon Mr. O'Brien. He had said, “Is this what I am to expect when we are married?” And today his words were loud and clear: “Stay in the house. Do not cross me in this.” I will stay.

She turned to her relation, who was watching her impatiently. “I cannot accompany you.” Ariana's voice was low but firm.

Mrs. Bentley waved her hand at her. “So be it! Do as you wish. But when Mr. Mornay returns, you must come to my house at once. He can convey you there himself. And you too, of course, Miss Herley.”

Lavinia nodded her thanks.

“Goodbye, my gels,” said her aunt, and she closed the door and was gone.

Ariana turned and said, “Let us tell Freddie to send a man to your parents before they begin to think you've run into more mischief.”

“Thank you, dearest!”

When that was done, Lavinia looked at her friend. “Shall we go to the parlour? I recall that we had started a delicious conversation.” The girls shared an impish smile.

“Yes, let us!”

Mr. Mornay's coach had been making the rounds of the East End, from St. Pancras to Cripplegate, stopping at every flash house, tavern, and other places of ill repute where Holliwell thought they might find his brother. They had begun the search in the shabby, rundown room the brothers were calling home at the moment and had continued to find him absent from every other haunt he usually favored. They questioned demireps and Corinthians,
sharpers and high kicks, tavern owners and chambermaids, but the man was nowhere to be found. It wasn't a matter of being blocked by friends who were protecting him because Holliwell knew the same friends. His brother was known as a “here or thereian,” and no one knew his current location.

“I don't understand it,” Holliwell lamented, returning to the coach after checking the house of Wingate's favorite doxie. “He should have turned up by now. Word is he's got new wheels, so perhaps he's gone somewhere.”

“How does he manage to keep a coach?” Mornay wondered. It was expensive to do so.

“Well, he wins 'em every so often from the occasional greenhorn. Then he sells 'em or rents 'em, if he can get by on it.”

“So he takes advantage of inexperienced young men who get in over their heads and lives off his winnings.”

“That's about the size of it. Along with an odd job here or there with other fellows.”

“By ‘job' I take it you don't mean ‘work.'”

“Good heavens, no! Can you see Julian working? Though I think he went body-snatching once. That reeks of ‘work' to me. Not to mention being devilish disgusting!”

Mornay shook his head. Why had he asked? Dash, he was getting rest-less. “Leave messages that you're looking for him,” he said, “and we'll come again later. Perhaps tonight we'll fall upon him when he's had a chance to get deep in his cups.”

His lordship nodded his head. “Oh, he'll know I've been looking for him, no fear there. He'll hear it everywhere he goes.” He met Mornay's eyes. “He ought to be eager to find me actually. He knows by now I had a hand in getting Miss Herley from his grasp, and he'll feel wronged by that. Julian, as you well know, does not forget when he's been wronged.”

Mrs. Bentley settled back into the carriage as they pulled away from Grosvenor Square. The streets were no longer clogged with traffic but much alive with commerce and pleasure vehicles as usual. Mrs. Bentley looked tiredly at the empty seat across from her, staring blankly and seeing nothing. Only a few more days must pass before her niece would be safely wed! Ah, the comfort she would take in that. Secretly she had been quite pleased by the early arrival of her brother and his family—she hadn't expected them
for another day at the least. But she was, no use denying it, happiest in her own house, and despite all her bravado about staying with Ariana come what may, it was a notable relief to be heading back to her own bed.

She did not relish having to explain to her brother Ariana's absence. But she was certain, with Ariana's father in her house, Mornay could no longer insist upon keeping the gel at Grosvenor Square. She would keep her niece under lock and key, if necessary, until the ceremony! The strain of these past days was too provoking. Abductions and rescues and shootings on the streets! Mrs. Bentley had always thought her nerves to be of the strongest constitution, but she was nearing her limit of what was tolerable.

The coach pulled up to the curb, and Mrs. Bentley looked out at the familiar house with a sigh of relief. How pleasant to be back home. In a moment the steps were let down, and Mrs. Bentley left the carriage.

When she opened the door to her home, she started to call for Haines, but she was taken by surprise by two ruffians who pulled her roughly into the house. She couldn't believe her eyes. Before she could speak, a third man appeared. “Oh my word!” It was the man who had pointed a gun at her! The man who had abducted Miss Herley right from her carriage! Lord Wingate, wasn't it?

“Where is your niece?” he demanded approaching her, his face mean and angry.

“Where is my brother and his family?” She asked in return, greatly affronted. Miraculously she seemed to have lost her fear of the man. She was too provoked at finding that her own house had been infiltrated, too busy adding up her intolerable misfortunes at his hands or on his account, to feel the least fear of him.

“Why did you leave your niece behind?” he demanded again.

“What have you done with my servants?” she responded.

“Allow me,” he said with derision, “to ask the questions. Your life is in peril if you do not answer them.” He was surprised to find this lady staring him down so boldly. Was this not Mrs. Bentley, who had swooned at the sight of his pistol only two days earlier? “Why did you not bring Miss Forsythe with you?” He gave her a sneering look and held up his pistol, pointing it at her head.

Mrs. Bentley no longer believed his aim was to do away with her, however, and so she merely responded in kind, with a voice fraught with disdain. “Miss Forsythe has a mind of her own, sir,” she responded. “She refused to come. And I must say, it is providential that she did.”

Without answering Lord Wingate turned to his men. “Put her with the rest of them and on the double! We'll have to get Miss Forsythe before Mornay returns to his house.”

Mrs. Bentley gasped. “You wouldn't dare!” And then she recalled that here they had dared to enter and command
her
house. They had somehow rendered her servants helpless for none were in sight. As one man led her off toward the kitchens, she looked back at Lord Wingate, hoping to sound ominous. “Mornay will have you hung if you harm that gel!”

About twenty-five minutes after Mrs. Bentley's carriage had driven off from Grosvenor Square, another carriage pulled to the curb in front of the house, and three men appeared from within it. They strode rapidly to the house, one man looking around warily as he did so. Freddie answered the door and a moment later backed away, his eyes bulging as the men forced their way in by lieu of a pistol in the butler's face.

“There's no need for alarm,” said Lord Wingate, his long face curling into a chilling grin. “As long as you do exactly as you're told.”

The man who had spoken and seemed to be in charge nodded at his companions, and they took off toward the stairs. Freddie's heart sank, remembering how low on men he was at the moment. One servant had gone off for Burton Crescent to deliver Miss Herley's message. Two were with the master. Oh, if only Mr. Mornay was home! And only two more on duty. Thankfully they were the men charged with keeping an eye on Miss Forsythe. He hoped they were on the alert! The man turned to him. “Sit here.”

“Upon the floor?”

“Yes, upon the floor! I am pointing at the floor, am I not?” Without another word, Mr. Frederick sat himself down, sighing inwardly. He had his back against the wall and knees pulled up against him. He eyed the stranger resentfully. If only the master were home!