“Conbatten?” Rosalind whispered.
“That sounds about right.” Mason snorted again. “It’s pretty funny if you think about it. One person kidnapped and two people payin’. I ’spose that don’t happen every day.”
“I should think not! Well, I never really understood how people ended up hanged. I really thought, it must have been a mistake, they were blamed for something they did not do because how could anybody—”
Mason leaned forward and put the pistol to her face. “Don’t you never mention hanging again, miss. Never again.”
Rosalind took in a long and slow breath to calm herself. If ever she needed her steady nerves and courageous nature, it was now. She must learn and think as she went. Lesson one—do not mention hanging.
How could she escape these people? She might throw herself out of the carriage before that temperamental fellow could fire his pistol and then run.
But if she did that, she’d be leaving Shrimps behind.
Why was Shrimps here anyway? She’d asked and he’d only said he’d been told to come and so he’d come. She had not thought much of it at the time.
“What does Shrimps have to do with your very unsavory scheme,” she asked, attempting to sound as courageous as possible. “He only made the arrangements and he certainly would not have known your real purpose.”
She paused, and then looked at Shrimps. “You did not know their real purpose, did you?”
A teardrop rolled down the boy’s cheek. “’Course I didn’t,” he whispered. “All I ever wanted was to be left alone to chop onions, peel potatoes, knead bread, and take Oyster into the garden!”
Rosalind felt a pang then. A pang of guilt. It had all seemed so safe, somehow. Just a bit of hi-jinks to give Conbatten his opportunities. But it was not safe, and she’d dragged Shrimps into it.
Mason hooked a thumb at Shrimps. “Him? I got no idea why we got him. I don’t suppose his lord will pay to get him back.”
Van Doren. What would Van Doren have to say about this? Hewouldpay to get Shrimps back. He’d be mad as a hornet, but he’d pay because he would consider it the honorable thing to do.
Then, he’d spend the rest of his life lecturing her about how she’d endangered a young boy.
And for once, Van Doren would be right.
She shouldn’t have done it. She shouldn’t have done any of it!
What had she been thinking? It was as if she’d been in some sort of dream state.
What would her father think? Would he throw Miss Mayton from the house for being part of it? He couldn’t, could he? She was family. Rosalind could hardly imagine he would blame Miss Mayton…if this had been less serious.
She suspected her dear, steady father would be far less steady in the face of this disaster.
What would Conbatten think? He was meant to only gallantly chase a carriage halfway down a street. Now he was to pay a ransom?
And then, should she survive this very grave mistake, it would all come out. It would be known that she’d very foolishly arranged her own kidnapping!
Even if Conbatten loved her now, he could not love her when he understood what she’d done. No duke would ever countenance having such a duchess by his side. He was indulgent of her, she’d sensed that all along. But he would not go so far as to accept this.
This was no lighthearted peccadillo. This was rash and unthinking, and very grave.
She would deserve whatever was to come her way. Should she come out on the other side of this catastrophe, she would deserve the gray days ahead.
*
It was noeasy matter to explain to Darden and Van Doren how it was that they must set off in a very heavily armed coach. Nor was it straightforward to explain how Lady Rosalind had been kidnapped.
That part was not particularly understandable to Hamill either.
Of all of them, Darden was perhaps the least surprised. “Five sisters,” he’d muttered. “When they get together, they have the worst ideas.”
“Do not forget Miss Mayton,” Van Doren said gruffly. “She is their principal, always bravely tearing forward to ever more dangerous notions.”
