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“Oh, Ralph, how awful! And you really were worried for me?” Now that she was safe, she couldn’t help but want him to enlarge upon what he’d put himself through on her account.
“With Debenham on the warpath and Cosmo acting proxy as your...protector?” He shook his head, not smiling. “Lud, but I had the devil of a time getting back to London, myself. Little Nipping is not exactly on the beaten track. First it took me hours to arrange transport. And then all that was available was an ancient chaise which only got half way before an axle broke. It was dark when I arrived.”
“And you came straight to the Lamonts’?”
“I did. That is, after having dispatched a missive to the gentleman we are about to see and with whom I’d already made brief contact.” He tapped her nose, gently, with a smile. “Now, to save repetition, my love, no more questions, for all is about to be revealed.”
Lissa lifted her hand to stroke Ralph’s cheek. “You know, I’ve never met such a brave and clever man. And Ralph, you know I would believe anything you said. I don’t think you could tell me a lie, even to spare me.”
“Certainly not! He put his arms about her and hugged her close. “I think too highly of your intelligence to try and fob you off with sweeteners.” He sighed, capturing her hand and gazing with intense earnestness into her eyes. “One day I will be in a position to support a wife, my darling girl. You really are quite astonishing, and despite all the honorable things I said about leaving you free to accept a well-appointed suitor, I do hope you’ll be patient because I believe I shall be rising in the world soon. I have a feeling here.” He tapped his breast. “That’s another reason I had to kidnap you. Over my turtle soup the other night, I realized that I can be rather persuasive, despite my modest nature, and that you really might take me at my word and cast your net elsewhere.”
Lissa twined her arms about his neck and kissed his cheek, her heart overflowing with affection. “After I met you, Ralph, I never for a moment entertained any ideas of finding anyone else.”
With a heartrendingly grateful smile, Ralph kissed her back, and then the carriage jolted to a halt and Ralph jumped out first before helping her to the pavement. “We’re here, dearest. Nothing to worry about, and yes, I’m sorry for the state of your dress, which I shall explain to Sir William, but as soon as I’m able I’ll buy you a new one, and Mrs. Nipkins can fashion you up something in the meantime. Now, prepare to meet His Excellency Sir William Keane, British envoy to Constantinople, now briefly back on English soil. I believe he could just be the answer to everything.”
Lissa wanted to ask how a diplomatist to a foreign court could be their answer to anything but then her thoughts became occupied by the damage to her gown as they mounted the stairs. When she caught sight of her face in the reflection of a large silver epergne on a low table by the entrance to the withdrawing room in which they were told to wait, she turned to Ralph in panic.
“I look like a costermonger,” she whispered. “My hair is all over the place. What can I say that will be of any interest to a man like Sir William?”
It soon transpired that Sir William was indeed very keen to engage Lissa in what she knew of certain matters, but for a moment, all Lissa could do was stare and veritably tremble with shock at her meeting with this tall, handsome, broad-shouldered gentleman with the firm jaw and piercing blue eyes.
She had to blink three times in order to dispel the image of him sporting very few clothes and a pair of very well-formed thighs, writhing on a red-upholstered banquette in the supper house at Vauxhall Gardens with Mrs. Crossing.
She was aware of Ralph gently squeezing her arm while he repeated what had obviously been Sir William’s question to her.
Lissa jerked into awareness to hear her beloved add, “Poor Miss Hazlett is still dazed. Until a short while ago, she was being held against her will by the man who claims to be the sketcher of the remarkable likenesses that have so interested the ton. The sad state of her dress is on account of a rather hasty exit from her attic prison. We came straight here, as you requested.”
Sir William, who Lissa judged to be in his mid thirties, nodded. Despite his aura of authority there was a kindness about him. A kindness lacking in Mr. Crossing, that was certain. He moved the Argand lamp closer so that the light shone on Lissa’s face. “Will you tell me who asked you to render these likenesses?”
Lissa licked dry lips. Would he deal so kindly with her if he knew she had sketched him with Mrs. Crossing? She tried to put out of her mind the image of the pair that kept intruding. She’d never seen anything like it. But now he was smiling kindly at her, soliciting information in the quest for justice. She had to concentrate on the facts that were relevant.
Taking a deep breath, she said, “Some weeks ago my employer’s son asked me to sketch a young lady, as his efforts had failed to capture her likeness. I did so, and then gave him the drawing to present to her so he could claim credit and win her regard. After that there were a number of commissions, which I sketched on his behalf, for which he claimed credit.”
“A number? Who else commissioned a sketch, Miss Hazlett?”
“Lady Smythe commissioned a sketch of her husband.”
He drew a notebook towards him and began to take notes. “Any other commissions?”
Lissa dropped her eyes then sent a panicked look at Ralph. But then, Ralph had no idea this was the man she’d sketched in company with Mrs. Crossing.
“Please, don’t feel overawed by the situation, Miss Hazlett. You are not on trial here but it is my hope that your evidence will help put a dangerous gentleman in the dock. He is guilty of a litany of crimes and I hope that proof of his hitherto denied association with two dangerous radicals will help achieve the government’s aim to ultimately keep our country safer than it might otherwise be.”
“So you want me to tell you about my sketch of Lord Debenham? Of how it came to pass that I sketched him with Lord Smythe and another man I’d never seen before, though I remember one of them referred to him as Buzby.”
“Excellent, excellent, Miss Hazlett. Your recollection is quite on the mark. Buzby is indeed the man you have sketched together with Lords Debenham and Smythe. Can you tell me the date, time and circumstances of this sketch?”
So Lissa told Sir William about the night at Vauxhall, of the conversations she’d overheard and of the accident that led to her sketchi
ng the three men, when it was only Lord Smythe whose sketch she’d thought was of any interest.
“And indeed all might have ended there had it not been for a colleague of mine, Sir Archibald Ledger, who knows of our suspicions and who happened upon your sketch when he picked it up after you’d dropped it in a passage. Immediately he was cognizant of the potential value of this sketch. Might I commend you on the astonishing detail and accuracy of your rendition?” Sir William paused to take a pinch of snuff, before asking her a number of other questions regarding the layout of the room and what she might have overheard.
Finally he leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “My dear Miss Hazlett, you have been of inestimable value and I have kept you long enough. But before I let you leave, I suppose I should ask if there were any other sketches done, either that night, prior or subsequently?”
Lissa nodded earnestly as she leant forward. “Indeed, I was going to tell you this. You see, Your Excellency, a few hours ago, Mr. Lamont visited me in the room in which he was keeping me prisoner. He found my sketchbook, containing one of two gentlemen I’d done some weeks ago. I’d never intended that it be made public as I was practicing caricatures. But Mr. Lamont took it, saying it would prove a closer association between two men are under scrutiny for a close relationship they deny.”
Sir William raised one eyebrow. “Mr. Lamont is a devious fellow.”
