Page 34 of A Secret Correspondence (Hearts of Harewood #4)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

A scream rent the air. Samuel looked toward the alley where Marguerite had been waiting, but she was no longer there. He searched the churchyard for Oliver and Ridley, noting their positions, and recognized he had a choice to make.

There was a small chance the person in distress was not Marguerite, but he was unwilling to take that chance.

Samuel did not consciously choose between catching the jewel thief and protecting Marguerite. Samuel inherently knew. He stood and ran through the uneven grass, then vaulted over the rock wall running the perimeter of the yard. He sprinted across the road into the alley as the screams began again.

What he witnessed made him see red.

A man had the woman Samuel loved over his shoulder, then he threw her into a carriage like a rag doll. Samuel bolted forward while the bounder climbed into the driver’s seat and hit the reins quickly, the horses protesting angrily as they took off over the cobbled road.

Samuel called out, his voice echoing between the stone buildings he ran between.

When he reached the mews at the other end of the alley, he could see the edge of the carriage disappear around the corner, so he continued to run.

His lungs burned, but he followed that road until it turned again, catching the edge of the vehicle, listening for the horses’ hooves.

The silent night made it easier to hear the wheels on the road, but still he pushed himself. He would not lose sight of her.

As the carriage reached the toll road, Samuel’s feet came to a stop.

He leaned forward, hands on his knees, breathing hard.

Moonlight shone down through the clouds above, lighting the wheels turning over the bridge and down the road.

He breathed heavily, certain he knew where they were going.

If his group was fast, they could catch up.

He could reach Marguerite. He could still save her.

Samuel turned back toward the church. He drew in a breath, ignored his screaming lungs, and started to run again.

Ridley and Oliver were waiting in front of the church when Samuel returned. They had a man between them, long and slender, hook-nosed and belligerent.

“He says a gent paid him to creep in the churchyard and distract us,” Oliver said. “He is not our man.”

“ Our man took Marguerite,” Samuel said, chest heaving as he sought air. His parched throat needed a drink. “They are on the road toward Harewood now.”

“You are certain?” Ridley asked.

“I saw him put her in a carriage, and I followed them until the toll road. He must have known she hadn’t come alone.” Samuel sucked in more breath, waiting for his heart to return to a steady beat. “It wasn’t Leclair.”

“Who was it?” Oliver asked.

“I did not know the man, but he was not Leclair. They could be working together, I suppose.” He started across the road. “We need to leave now. I will call for the carriage. ”

“I will fetch my wife and settle our rooms,” Oliver said.

“I will question this person and see you at the carriage shortly,” Ridley said.

They separated to complete their tasks. Samuel was anxious, antsy.

He could not stand in one place, but paced the cobbled road as the tired grooms located Oliver’s horses and prepared his carriage.

He had explained his errand was of the utmost urgency, but they did not seem to understand what that meant.

Samuel decided to help. He jumped in, pulling the horses into position and helping situate them.

After they were finished, Ridley, Ruth, and Oliver all arrived.

They loaded into the carriage and Oliver’s coachman climbed onto the driver’s seat, his wig slightly askew and a yawn on his lips for having been awakened suddenly. Then they were off.

“Were you able to pull more information from the decoy?” Samuel asked.

Ridley rubbed his eyes. “Yes. He described the gent. Thick side whiskers, widely built.”

“That lines up with the man I saw carrying Marguerite.”

“Oh, Marguerite,” Ruth said quietly. Distress flashed over her face.

Ridley’s face was grim. “He also said the man had a French accent.”

“No one in Leclair’s party fits that description, though,” Samuel said.

Oliver pulled his wife closer to his side. “We do not know what their servants look like.”

“That is true.” Samuel gritted his teeth. “What shall we do when we arrive?”

“He could be dangerous,” Ridley said. “We must assume he will have her inside and the door will be locked. Can either of you pick a lock?”

Neither Samuel nor Oliver had that skill .

“Once we attempt to gain access, he will know we are there, and we’ll lose the element of surprise,” Oliver said.

Samuel’s emotion pulsed through his body, making him jittery. He could not sit still. He could hardly breathe. “I think it will not be a good idea to allow me within arm’s reach of that man,” he said quietly.

Ruth leaned across the carriage and squeezed his knee. It was too dark to see her clearly, but he could feel the weight of her stare. “You care deeply for Marguerite, do you not? I could see it in the way you watched her.”

“Yes,” he said, the word like a plea. “I have grown to love her over the last few months, but I was a foolish, blind man and did not see what was plainly in front of me.”

“Does she know now?” Ruth asked.

“Yes.” He swallowed, leaning back in the seat. “Though convincing her that I care not for her station has been a trial.”

Ridley’s laugh was a low rumble that filled the carriage. “I wish you luck, Samuel. I had great difficulty accepting the same from Eliza.”

“You stubborn tradesmen,” Samuel muttered. Though he could not smile to soften his words, he meant them in jest. “When I have removed her from the clutches of that nasty Frenchman, I will leave her with no doubts about how I feel.”

“That is the emotion you were missing when you told us of Miss Farrow, you know,” Oliver said. “It felt like something was missing, and it was this passion. You were too unmoved. I did not understand it, not when you had spent years following Ruth around with such a zest of emotion.”

“Because it was not love.” Samuel looked out the window, wishing the drive would be finished already.

“How did you end the engagement with Miss Farrow?” Ruth asked. “You must have if you are speaking this way.”

“Her mother did.” Samuel revealed the uncomfortable interview he had been forced to endure with the Farrow women and the resulting circumstances Marguerite had found herself in.

“How do I extricate her? Even if she agrees to marry me, her name will be dragged through the mud. She will lose the patronage of many, including Lady Faversham, I am sure.”

“Is that something she cares greatly for?” Oliver asked.

“I do not know. There is the other matter of my father’s debts, the prison that awaits him, and my mother’s impending homelessness.

” Samuel rubbed his eyes, feeling far older than when he had awakened that morning.

“I do not feel it is my responsibility to save my family estate or my father, but my mother does not deserve to suffer.”

“She will not, Sam,” Ridley said. “You know Eliza’s mother would never permit it—she would sooner invite your mother to live at Rose Manor. Mrs. Rose’s pride has undergone a great maturing since Eliza married me.”

Samuel nodded. He did not choose to spend much time with his aunt, but he knew his mother was very close to her sister-in-law.

It was also true that she would be much happier in Rose Manor than with Samuel above the modiste’s shop.

Mother would not like it, but it was a valid plan.

He could still maintain a relationship with her once she became a grandmother, but he would not be responsible for her or his father.

Now, he needed to save his love.

The carriage pulled through the outer roads of Harewood, and Samuel’s heart began to race. “Does anyone with a level head at present have a plan? I have a feeling mine will result in more death than the situation warrants. I would rather not hang before I can marry Marguerite.”

Oliver blinked. “Yes, I have been thinking. Perhaps, if we are wise, we could approach this in much the same manner that we did the churchyard.”

“With a bundle of fake jewels in a cloth?” Ruth asked.

“No. Coming at the man from all angles. Ridley, do you think you could fit through Marguerite’s parlor window? ”

“I can certainly try.”

Oliver nodded. “Good. Before we left, I instructed my coachman to stop near the church so we would not alert them to our arrival. We can approach the shop, peek through the windows to take stock of the situation, and proceed from there.”

Everyone agreed.

“What shall we do if they are not in the shop?” Ruth asked quietly.

Silence permeated the air as each of them seemed to consider this horrible potential.

“The man wants those diamonds,” Samuel said with confidence. “He is convinced Marguerite is hiding them. It stands to reason he would force her to her shop and demand she give them up.”

He refused to consider an alternative that did not remove Marguerite from the clutches of a madman forthwith.

The carriage fell quiet until it rolled to a stop.

Samuel’s heart nearly broke through his chest with how rigorously it pounded.

He hopped down from the carriage. Oliver asked Ruth to wait behind because they did not know how dangerous the man was or what kind of weapon he carried.

Ridley walked at Samuel’s side down the road, his steps oddly silent for so large a man.

When they neared the modiste’s shop, Ridley put a hand to Samuel’s arm lightly to slow him, and they flattened against the buildings.

It was just past four o’clock in the morning, and the rest of Harewood was still asleep, including the inn across the street.

No carriage waited in the road, which was concerning, but Samuel needed to believe she was close.

He could feel that she was here, that he would see her shortly.

A heavy thud inside the shop caused them to freeze, and his blood went cold.

“Likely a piece of furniture,” Ridley said.

“Sounded as though it came from the back,” Samuel whispered .

“Perhaps I will not try to climb through the window. If we can sneak through the front, we can all charge him.”

Oliver caught up to them. “I like that plan.”

They tried to peek through the windows, but the curtains had been drawn, blocking all sight. The men approached the door together.

Samuel put his hand on the handle and paused. “I will take the middle. You both flank me. My priority is Marguerite.”

Ridley nodded. “Mine is to disarm the man.”

“I will aim to restrain him,” Oliver said.

The men each shared a look, seeming to draw in a simultaneous breath.

“Ready?” Ridley asked.

They all nodded.

Samuel drew in strength. “Now.”