Page 66 of A Sham Engagement

The portly gentleman made a bow. “John Townsend from Bow Street, at your service, milord.” His gaze fastened on little Edward still cradled in his father’s arms. “Although it looks to me like you’ve righted this problem for yourself.”

Lady Amberley snorted her disapproval, rather like a bull preparing to charge. “Jack.” That one word from her held many things: disapproval, enquiry, anger, surprise, and annoyance that someone had stolen her thunder by making such a dramatic entry on the scene.

Jack set Edward on the tiled floor and the little boy immediately reached out a hand and caught hold of Elenora’s skirts, much as his father had done in the library in what felt like another world. Only Edward was wary, not commanding. “Don’t leave me.” He buried his face in the dirty fabric. Was he hiding from his grandmother? Her frosty demeanor was not at all welcoming, so he couldn’t be blamed if he was. Elenora hadn’t known either of her own grandmothers but, at a guess, Lady Amberley was not the most openly affectionate of women where small boys were concerned.

What to say to Edward? She’d never been beseeched in such imploring tones and her heart, unused to feeling like this, went out to the little boy. Her sisters would never have dared appeal to her like this. They knew all too well her lack of emotional response, her ‘thoughtlessness’ as they put it. Which was unfair, as in reality it wasn’t that she didn’t feel anything, but far more that she found it impossible to show what she did feel. Too awkward. Too embarrassing if she got it wrong. Best to err on the side of no reaction at all.

But with Edward it was different. She’d just have to shove aside everything she’d known until now, every impulse telling her she couldn’t be a source of comfort for a child, and rise to the occasion. Because Lady Amberley certainly wasn’t about to fill that role just now, and Edward needed someone.

She bent and put her arms around him. “I won’t leave you, don’t worry. Let’s get you upstairs to the nursery. And Alcock can organize something nice for you to eat, and a hot drink too. You must be starving. And I rather think a bath would be in order.” She wouldn’t look at Lady Amberley’s forbidding face. She wouldn’t. But, out of the corner of her eye she could see how that formidable lady had fixed her son with a gimlet glare. However old you got, it seemed, you were not above your mother giving you a telling off.

“Will someone please explain to me what is going on?” her ladyship’s voice cut through the atmosphere in the hall like a well-sharpened knife as she glared at Jack. “Your servants tell me you have been into the slums. Mr. Townsend here tells me you sent for his Runners after my grandson was kidnapped.”

She threw a glance at Edward, his face now against Elenora’s shoulder as she knelt before him. “And to top it all, you took your betrothed, Miss Wetherby, with you into the slums. A young lady of respectable birth. Unchaperoned.” Her gaze fell on Jolyon and Matthew. “And who, pray, are these two… gentlemen?” She sounded very much as though she wasn’t sure that was what they were, as their originally smart apparel had been much dirtied by their flight through the backstreets.

Jolyon made a flamboyant bow, and Matthew followed suit. “Jolyon Wetherby, Lady Amberley, at your service. And this is my brother, Matthew.” He hesitated before evidently deciding that more of an explanation was needed. “Elenora is our sister.”

Elenora gathered Edward, who was a tidy weight, into her arms and stood up. “I’m taking Edward up to bed.”

No one seemed to be taking any notice of her.

Lady Amberley’s gaze, still on Jolyon and Matthew, sharpened. “And how did you come to partake in whatever this expedition has entailed?” Her elegant nose wrinkled. “For it is quite evident that wherever you have been it was not somewhere clean.”

Jack appeared, for the moment, to have been struck dumb. Unusual for him. Did he go in awe of his mother as Jolyon and Matthew did with Mama? Papa too, if truth be told. Lady Amberley seemed keen to prove herself as forceful as Lady Wetherby.

Edward, now reassured that his new friend wasn’t about to abandon him, seemed to have recovered some confidence. He put his arm around her neck, drawing her closer so he could whisper. “You’re right. I’m starving. I haven’t had my supper. And that horrible man said I didn’t need any when I asked. He said I was fat.” His voice rose in indignation at the insult, but he also gave a little shiver at the memory. “Can I have hot cocoa?” His small hand was sticky and hot on her neck and made her want to twitch away his touch. She suppressed the urge. He was only a child. A child who’d undergone a terrible experience. She mustn’t let her foibles upset him when he needed comfort. And besides, it wasn’t so bad as all that.

“Of course, you shall have hot cocoa. I’d like some myself. It’s a great restorative after an adventure such as the one you’ve had. I’m sure your cook is still up and can make us some.” Perhaps she could make his ordeal sound as though it hadn’t been so bad. Cast it in the light of a boyish adventure. If she was lucky.

A reassuring twinkle sparkled in his eyes. “And can I have cake, too?”

She nodded with vigor. “As much as you like. In fact, you shall have whatever you wish. Alcock can go and tell them in the kitchen.”

Lady Amberley tapped her finely shod foot. “I’m waiting for an explanation.”

Jack stowed his sword stick in the stand by the door, along with one or two walking sticks. “Mother, this is nothing to do with you. What are you even doing here this late at night?”

“Lady Dandridge sent me a message regarding her niece.” Lady Amberley directed a meaningful glare in Elenora’s direction. “Something garbled about kidnappers. I could make neither head nor tail of it until I arrived here, and even after speaking with Mr. Townsend and your butler, nothing is clear.”

Alcock managed to keep an admirably straight face. Jolyon and Matthew looked as though they rather wished they’d parted company with Elenora and Jack out in the street and were edging nearer to the door. Mr. Townsend and his Runners might well have felt the same.

Lady Amberley sailed on, regardless of her audience. “Penelope must have been having a fit of the vapors when she wrote it. I came here straightaway and found you gone and Miss Wetherby as well, and Alcock tells me the governess you employ for my grandson was attacked near Marylebone Park. In the dark, of all times, as if the woman didn’t realize how dangerous it is to be out after dark.”

She drew breath. “And my grandson was taken by ruffians. You should terminate that woman’s employment forthwith. I can’t have my grandson cared for by a fool.”

Elenora’s brow furrowed and she held on tighter to Edward. Not if she could help it would poor Miss Douglas be dismissed. The woman had fought to save Edward against several men and been beaten for her efforts. Best to say nothing at the moment though. She just wanted to get Edward upstairs and into a bath.

Perhaps Jack guessed how she was feeling. “If you don’t mind, Elenora, could you take Edward upstairs.” He turned to Jolyon and Matthew. “I fear the hour is late and there’s much for me to sort out here. Allow me to thank you for your assistance tonight, of both your sister and of me. Perhaps we could meet at White’s, tomorrow?” And finally to his mother. “Might I escort you home, Mother? Elenora will take care of Edward. I feel you and I need to talk. Alcock, can you get Thomas to escort Miss Wetherby back to Arlington Street when Edward is in bed? Thank you.”

Elenora, Edward snuggled in her arms, started up the stairs as her brothers almost fought each other to be out of the door first.

Mr. Townsend of the Runners stepped forward. “Lord Broxbourne. As you have your boy back, do you wish us to take further action?”

Elenora turned her head to watch and listen better, thinking of the body they’d heaved into the Thames. Would Jack be in trouble if they knew he’d killed the kidnapper?

Jack’s gaze came to rest on her, his eyes troubled. Then he looked back at Mr. Townsend. “No, I have my son back and Reuben Sharpe hasn’t long for this world. When I saw him tonight in his lair, he was coughing blood—in the later stages of consumption. The Devil’s Acre isn’t a safe place for any Runners to enter, and I couldn’t justify putting your men in danger. I’m just content to have my son back home.”

Mr. Townsend gave a smart salute. “As you wish, milord, but remember that if you change your mind, we’re at your disposal. Just send your man round with a request and we’ll be here.”