Chapter Nineteen
Lionel burst throughAlexander’s door when Mr. Glenstorm opened it. The activity at Amgen House had greatly increased over the last few days. “It is today!” Alexander’s friend shouted.
“Are you assured?” Alexander asked as he rushed down the steps.
“Your sister gave the signal. Beaufort and Kepper set out for the Oakley Arms earlier, for according to Kepper such is where Honfleur traveled yesterday.”
“I am prepared. Is Annalise still at Amgen House?” Alexander claimed another gun from a drawer.
“Yes. Honfleur has yet to order his carriage, but Beaufort says John Yates is again in residence at the inn.”
“Are the horses ready, Mr. Glenstorm?” Alexander asked.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Annalise’s liberation comes today, Lionel,” Alexander declared as he led the way to the street. “You remember your promise?” he asked his friend as he mounted.
“Save Lady Annalise.”
“Exactly.” With that, they set out for the Oakley Arms.
An hour laterfound them gathered behind some buildings along the lane holding the Oakley Arms Inn.
“Everyone in place?” Lord Duncan asked, although such was simply a formality, for it would be Liverpool’s hand-picked men who would lead the way. It had been determined the government could no longer wait to move against Yates, one of William Booth’s cohorts, especially as they all expected Booth would be hanged when he went on trial next month. Since Lord Beaufort had relayed Annalise’s message of something of import occurring today, they had been waiting for this moment. A large group of known forgers were again gathering at the Oakley Arms. Earlier that day, Yates had met with John Chance outside a bank in Middlesex. Now, Yates and others were within the Oakley Arms. “Permit Liverpool’s men to handle the arrests. We will simply be in place if any within the inn slip through the fingers of his lordship’s men.”
Alexander only partially listened to Duncan’s orders, for there was something more of a personal nature on his mind. Perhaps a half hour earlier, he had watched Moreau and the man’s daughter enter the inn. Alexander had wondered if Annalise had any inkling of what was on tap today. He doubted it was possible. If even half of what Beaufort and Lionel had shared proved true, Annalise had continued to suffer at Moreau’s hands, and Heaven assist the man if he fell into Alexander’s grasp on this day. Alexander wished with all his heart he had not listened to Lord Duncan and Liverpool. From what Beaufort said, even Moreau’s servants took out their spite on his sister. They would be a sorry bunch when he finished with them, for abusing the daughter and the sister of an earl would not be tolerated in London society.
As if reading Alexander’s mind, Beaufort said, “Emancipation Day for Lady Annalise.”
“About time,” Alexander grumbled. “My sister has paid her dues. Whether this venture proves true to form or not, I mean to see her by my side by this evening. No more serving the British government.”
“Do you think the reason Moreau has treated her so harshly is because the man is aware of your connection to the lady?” Orson inquired.
Alexander swallowed the bile rising to his throat. “I have asked myself that very question on multiple occasions. However, my reason says he would not have brought her to England if such were true, that is, unless his plan, all along, was to abandon her on English shores without telling her of her heritage. In truth, he has no use for her, for she has become too outspoken for Moreau to approve of her actions. I pray I am not the source of her suffering.”
Beaufort assured, “All will be forgiven once you two put this estrangement behind you.”
Alexander said solemnly, “I pray as I have never prayed before that such proves true; yet, I cannot think with any equanimity on the possibility of Annalise’s forgiveness nor of how it might be if Moreau had not practiced this scam. In truth, I might never have found my sister.”
No time remained to discuss what might have been, for with a signal from their leader, Liverpool’s men quickly spread out. They streamed through the doors and blocked the windows from becoming a source of escape. Benjamin Thompson and another of their men had come down from the roof to block the stairs and Beaufort, along with Lord Duncan, secured the kitchen. However, Alexander knew Moreau would not be so easily quailed. From all the information they had gathered on the man, Moreau always managed to escape even the most skilled trap;therefore, Alexander sprinted around the corner of the building towards the back of the inn. He wanted to be in place when Moreau made his move, and Alexander had no doubt the man would not stand and fight as would many inside the inn. Moreau would pay others to do his fighting, and, more importantly, in the scheme of things, the man had a daughter to protect. Even a dastard like Moreau would first see to Caroline’s safety.
A few shots were fired inside the inn, and the sound of broken furniture and glass and shouts of alarm could be heard, but Alexander remained steadfast, his eyes on the rear door. A few of those the government sought trickled through the door in hopes of escape, while being chased by either one of the government men or those from the Home Office; yet, Alexander kept watch for one man in particular. One face in particular. “Come outside, Moreau,” he whispered as his gaze intensified on the rear exit. “Alexander wishes a proper meeting.”
As if his wish had been granted, Moreau’s head appeared around the door frame. The culprit looked left and then right before stepping through the opening as if nothing unusual was happening inside.
Alexander noted the man tugged his daughter along behind him as they darted across the inn yard towards the barn. The noise inside the inn had increased with shouts of confusion and lumber being ripped from its joints and orders for surrender being called out repeatedly. Yet, Alexander remained focused on the two figures attempting to flee.
Unable to wait for a Runner to follow Moreau, Alexander stepped from behind a well, near the rear of the property, and leveled the sights of his gun upon the man. “Going somewhere, my lord?” he asked with a snarl of derision.
Moreau pulled up short and shoved his daughter farther behind him. “I should have known you were involved in this chaos,” he accused.
“Always happy to oblige,my lord,” Alexander taunted.
“So, our Audrey has been communicating with you after all. I held my suspicions,” Moreau accused.
Alexander raised an eyebrow indicating his amusement. “I am ‘most’ thankful you had the forethought to bring my sister ‘Annalise’ to England. Imagine my surprise to learn Darwood Lisey transferred my mother’s patronage to one Jacobi Moreau.”
“How long have you known?” Moreau demanded.
