Her carriage! Lily had forgotten about her carriage. Her aunt had sent Pips to collect her. The maid would realize that something happened to her. Pips would not be put off.
Lily heard Pips’ voice in reply. “Are you certain?” she asked. “We were told to wait here and Lady Carradine was to put me in possession of Miss Farnsworth.”
“Lady Marchelan insisted on carrying her off,” Mr. Shine said smoothly. “Something about a country party at Lady So and So’s. Now, what will you do? Sit there all night when there is no cause for it?”
Pips, her voice ringing with irritation, said, “A trip to the countryside at this hour!”
“Yes, they said they thought to go on the morrow,” Mr. Shine said smoothly, “and then decided to set off now. You know how the fancies are—everything is to be at their whim and convenience.”
“What a palaver!” Pips cried. “Galloping through the countryside at night with no thought to highwaymen. Really, I think Mrs. Hemming to be too liberal with the girl to allow her to run off so! Well,” she said with a huff, “let us go, we might catch a few hours of sleep if we’re lucky. Though I supposethatwon’t bother my mistress.”
The carriage set off and Lily and Lord Ashworth waited until they heard the door shut behind Mr. Shine.
“Who is Lady Marchelan?” Lily whispered.
“A figment,” Lord Ashworth answered. “Come, we must go quickly. The villain will even now be on his way up to the attics.”
At the thought of Mr. Shine running up the stairs to the attics, Lily felt frozen to the spot. There was such an enormous horror running through her that she did not think she could move. Somewhere in her clouded thoughts, she thought a terror such as this was why a rabbit suddenly gave up in a fox’s jaws. It was too much to fight against.
Lord Ashworth leapt onto the branch and grabbed the one above him to steady himself. He reached his hand out.
Lily stared at him.
“Take my hand!” the lord said urgently.
His words seemed to shake her from her stupor. His outstretched hand gave her courage. She took it.
His strong grasp felt as a link to life. A way to live. A way to escape the fox’s jaws. He nodded to her and began to inch them forward. Slowly, footstep by footstep, Lily could feel the rough bark through her slippers. Finally to the trunk. Lord Ashworth climbed down to a branch below them as Lily held on to the trunk. He steadied her, his arms around her waist, as she carefully lowered herself down to him.
Lord Ashworth leapt the last six feet to the pavement and turned to her. Above them, she heard the sound of the casement window banging against the side of the house. Mr. Shine. He was in the attic.
Lily jumped.
*
Mr. Shine hadhurried back into the house after sending Miss Farnsworth’s carriage on its way. He gathered up the bindings and rags he had collected, and a second pistol. One could never be too careful—Lord Ashworth was not an inconsiderable opponent. He assumed the gentleman would have come up with some ridiculous plan to overcome him when he opened the door. Perhaps he’d loosened a brick from the fireplace and intended to knock him on the head. It would be well to be able to get off two shots if necessary. After all, if he were forced to kill them, he could still collect the ransom and be off.
He crept down the corridor silently. Reaching the door, he unlocked it and kicked it open, raising his pistols.
The empty room stared back at him. The windows gently swayed with the breeze and the wafting air brushed his face.
He raced to the windows and slammed them open, just in time to see Lord Ashworth running down the avenue with Miss Farnsworth in his arms.
Mr. Shine raised one of his pistols, and then lowered it. He’d never make the shot and even if he’d got lucky, what was he to do with a dead man on the street and a woman screaming about it?
The neighbors would be out in their nightcaps before he got out the front door.
Mr. Shine slowly sank to his knees. He was penniless and his quarry had escaped him. He could not ransom Lord Ashworth and he dare not be on the premises a moment longer. He had nothing for his months of trouble and nowhere to turn. Worse, Lord Ashworth would come for him. Once he’d deposited the lady safely at her house, the man would start thinking of a plan. He’d probably send men. A lot of men. Who knows what the lord would say to the magistrate?
He might even say Mr. Shine had murdered Nancy Manton. For, where was she? He might even say Mr. Shine had stolen the bank. For, where was it? They’d never believe Nancy stole it. They’d all known her as the respectable Lady Carradine these past five years. They’d laugh at his story of Nancy Manton taking the identity of the lady. They’d laugh, and then they’d hang him.
Hanging. It was the nightmare that had followed him all his life. The idea that he’d someday be caught at one of his schemes and struggled into a noose.
He briefly considered throwing himself into the Thames. Drowning must surely be better than swinging. Though, when he imagined floating down into the dark water to join the rest of the unfortunate souls who’d gone before, he knew he would not do it. He had too much a care for his own comfort to drown himself. If he were to do a violence to himself, he would procure a sufficient amount of laudanum. It was said to be a pleasant way to drift off and never come back.
Slowly though, his despair began to recede like a Thames tide. In its place, a hunger for life swept over him like a crashing wave. Along with a determination to live, to have more days in front of him, anger came roaring in. Lady Carradine had betrayed him. Miss Farnsworth had been his undoing. Lord Ashworth had upset his plan. They were all guilty.
Somehow, those who could be made to pay must pay. Nancy Manton may have escaped his net, but there were others who had not.
