The boy who worked for Mondrian. There could be no doubt now. Lady Rosalind had put herself in the hands of a very dangerous man.
Balthazar searched the street for any carriage that might be coached by Mondrian. Though he wished to be hopeful, the facts would not be subdued by hope. If Mondrian was the coachman, he did not do it for a lark. He did not do it for whatever few pounds Lady Rosalind had paid.
He did it because there was a greater prize to be had.
Demands for payment would be even now delivered to the earl’s door. Lady Rosalind had managed to arrange her ownrealkidnapping.
How foolish he’d been to allow this nonsense to proceed! He should have put a stop to it at the pickpocket!
“Miss Mayton, you are to go home at once. When you get there, you must tell the earl everything.”
“The earl! Oh, he will not like it, though,” Miss Mayton said.
“No, he will not. But at least it will explain why he has just received a ransom note for Lady Rosalind’s return.”
Miss Mayton staggered.
Just then, Balthazar spotted Van Doren and his bride descending a carriage. And there was Darden too, on his horse.
“Go, Miss Mayton,” he said firmly. “Ask Lady Van Doren to take you home.”
He strode away from her. “Darden, Van Doren, step over here a moment.” To a footman he said, “Go inside and find Lord Hamill, get him out here. Have another lad call Lord Hamill’s carriage. Do so in all haste.”
Chapter Twenty
The carriage barreleddown the road. Rosalind held on to steady herself.
“Why are you continuing on?” Rosalind asked. “You are meant to go round the square. How is Conbatten to find us if we are not nearby?”
“Nobody’s meant to find us,” Mason said with a laugh. He pulled out a pistol and rested it in his lap.
Rosalind felt a stone sinking in her belly. What was happening? Why did that young man have a pistol?
“Mr. M said I was to keep you all calm-like,” Mason said. “Just don’t make a fuss and all will come right in a day or two.”
“A day or two!” Rosalind cried.
“I said,” Mason said, fingering his weapon, “stay all calm-like.”
Shrimps’ eyes were wide as saucers.
“You are frightening poor Shrimps,” Rosalind said, determined not to mention that she was rather terrified herself. “He has very delicate nerves.”
“So I heard,” Mason said. “Now listen, there’s no reason to not be all calm-like. We hide you away, we get money from your pa and some other fella, we leave you where your people can collect you again. Simple as daylight.”
“Simple as daylight!” Rosalind said. “We paid twenty pounds to have a straightforward task performed, I really do not understand…”
Mason snorted, as he seemed to be in the unpleasant habit of doing. “Right, well I would say this is a matter of the boss shootin’ a bit higher than twenty pounds.”
“But, but it’s criminal!”
“Theyarecriminals,” Shrimps whispered.
“Wait,” Rosalind said, having a moment to parse what this person had just said. “You mentioned my father and…some other fellow? What other fellow?”
“A great muckety-muck, a duke of something or other.”
Shrimps slid down in his seat as if he might be able to disappear into it.
