Page 26 of Lady Louisa and the Carriage Clock (The Rogue’s Alliance #3)
L ouisa was startled by a tapping at her bedchamber window. Rising from her writing desk and walking to the window, she realized someone was throwing pebbles at the glass.
Opening the window, she looked into the garden, recognizing the maid she’d seen earlier cleaning up the mud in Edith’s home.
The young woman called, “My lady! I need your help. I have some important information for Lord Wycliffe about the clocks.”
“You should speak with Lord Harbury,” she replied automatically.
“He isn’t at home.” The maid wrung her hands. “I’m not sure who I can trust and this can’t wait. Lord Wycliffe speaks highly of you, my lady. I hoped you would help me.”
The viscount had mentioned Louisa? “I’ll be right down.”
She was still fully dressed, having not been home for very long. Nathaniel had indeed left Grosvenor Square to find Lord Wycliffe, and she was waiting none too patiently for some news about Lord and Lady Kettering.
The drawing room was empty when Louisa entered, locked the door behind her, and opened the French doors to let Eliza in.
“What information do you have for Lord Wycliffe?” she asked the maid.
The girl drew a flintlock from behind her back. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“What are you doing, Eliza?” Louisa backed away towards the locked door.
“Don’t move. I prefer poison to a firearm but make no mistake, I will kill you if I have to.” The girl stepped aside and motioned with the gun for Louisa to walk toward the French doors. “Do as I say, and the RA might let you live. We want Lord Wycliffe. You’re not important.”
Louisa walked to the French doors, thinking frantically of a way out of her predicament. She didn’t believe she would be allowed to live once the RA had Lord Wycliffe. The Rogue's Alliance never left loose ends. All she could hope was that the RA wouldn’t have any reason to seek out Edith.
“Open one of the doors and step outside. If you try to run, I will shoot you.”
Louisa wondered how Eliza would get them away from Grosvenor Square when she spied her family’s groom tied up in the stable block, his eyes closed. Two huge men wearing masquerade masks stood nearby.
“Tie her hands and gag her,” Eliza said in a low voice, and one of the men stepped forward to do so.
She didn’t struggle as one of the masked men tied her hands in front of her with a rough length of rope. There was no point. She would keep her eyes and ears open for a chance to escape.
“Is my groom all right?”
“He will survive,” the other masked man said with a chuckle. “We merely roughed him up a bit.”
“Don’t speak, you two,” Eliza muttered. “Just follow my orders.”
After Louisa’s hands were tied and a none-too-clean handkerchief stuffed into her mouth, the masked man hauled her down the alley to where an old, paint-chipped coach rested. The pair of horses drawing the carriage looked as decrepit as the vehicle itself. Only one lantern on the outside of the carriage was lit.
Eliza entered the carriage first. The masked man who’d gagged Louisa lifted her bodily into the carriage and dumped her on the bench facing the maid. Louisa struggled to right herself as the carriage lurched forward.
“Lord Kettering doesn’t believe Lord Wycliffe will come to your rescue, but I’ve assured him the viscount will.” Her mouth twisted into an unpleasant smile. “Lord Wycliffe doesn’t dance with just anyone. Perhaps his interest at first was only in your clock, but I do believe the man is smitten.”
She shook her head. Eliza couldn’t be more wrong.
“It’s obvious you’re in love with him. That alone would pique the interest of any man.” She let out a bark of laughter. “He is quite the specimen. Never gave me a second look, I can tell you.”
Louisa didn’t have time to rejoice that Cecil wasn’t interested in the maid nor to worry about whether the man knew she had feelings for him.
With a gag in her mouth, she couldn’t ask where the coach was headed. A moment later, Eliza answered that question.
“Lord Kettering is refurbishing a house in Richmond. The gentleman who lives next door is currently in Scotland, so there will be plenty of privacy for what we have planned for Lord Wycliffe.”
Eliza pulled one of the threadbare curtains aside and looked out into the darkness. “We’re almost there. Perhaps we shouldn’t have gagged you. A one-sided conversation is rather boring.”
When Louisa left her bedchamber to go downstairs, it had been nine o’clock. It must be close to ten o’clock now. She’d already said good night to her parents, but Lucy would have gone to Louisa’s bedchamber by now to help her mistress prepare for bed, not found her and alerted the family that she was missing.
The coach came to a halt, and the carriage door opened. One of the masked men reached in and hauled Louisa from the carriage none too gently. The man held her left arm tightly in his meaty grip, causing her to wince.
“Careful!” The voice was Lady Kettering’s. “We mustn’t harm the chit before we’ve got Lord Wycliffe in hand.”
As she stood on the pavement in the shadow of a red brick townhouse, Louisa looked into the face of Venus.
“Bring her inside,” Lady Kettering muttered before turning and leading the way to a set of steps.
Louisa struggled to be free. The enormity of the danger she was in had finally sunk in. For the first time in her life, she was well and truly afraid.
* * * * *
W hen the coach reached Grosvenor Square, Cecil let Nathaniel exit the carriage first. It was his home, after all.
“Don’t move this coach,” Nathaniel told his driver before racing up the steps of the house and into the entry hall and asking a footman, “Where is Lady Harbury?”
“She is reading in the library, my lord.”
Cecil followed Nathaniel to the library, where Edith was curled up on a settee reading.
“Nathaniel!”
“Edith, please remain here while I go upstairs,” he replied gravely. “Cecil will explain why.”
Nathaniel exited the room to proceed to the servant’s quarters while Cecil informed Edith about what they had discovered about Eliza.
Nathaniel returned a few minutes later, note in hand. He held it out, saying, “It’s addressed to you, Cecil. It was on Eliza’s bed. According to one of the maids, she saw Eliza leave the house an hour ago.”
Cecil glanced over the single sheet of vellum.
If Lord Wycliffe wishes to keep Lady Louisa from harm, he must proceed to Richmond House alone.
“I have to go to Carstairs.”
Nathaniel shook his head. “You’ll only upset Louisa’s family. I will speak with Leopold and he can decide what to tell the rest of his family. The RA will have eyes on my house and will know if anyone accompanies you to Richmond. Take my carriage. I’ll find my own way later.”
He knew Nathaniel’s idea was sound. “Send a messenger to Sidmouth about Kettering. I promised to let him know if we deciphered the riddle.”
“I will." Nathaniel slapped him on the back. "Off with you!”
As Cecil left the room, he heard Nathaniel tell his wife not to worry. They would bring Louisa back safe and sound.
Standing next to Nathaniel's coach, by the light of a torch, Cecil checked his pocket watch. It was nearly ten o’clock. At that time of night, he expected the roads to be empty as most of the ton would be at their entertainments.
Cecil yelled to the driver, “Richmond House!” and jumped into the carriage.
He would be in Richmond in less than an hour. There was no plan. Cecil trusted Nathaniel to follow him. His friend knew he always carried a flintlock on his person. Perhaps the RA knew as well.
Lord Kettering was the last living founder of the RA. From Nathaniel’s recounting of the conversation at his dinner table, it appeared Lady Kettering was well aware of her husband’s involvement with the organization.
There was no understanding as to why the RA had taken Louisa other than to capture him. Killing him wasn’t going to prevent others from knowing about Kettering.
When the coach arrived at Richmond House, he could see candles burning in several windows. Whoever was in the house wasn’t trying to hide their presence.
Cecil exited the coach and told the coachman to station the carriage further down the street. “If you are fearful for your life at any time, leave me.”
Richmond House was the largest residence on the street of townhouses, as it was two dwellings combined. Cecil had heard of the house. Lord Kettering was sparing no expense on renovations after recently acquiring the property. The last founder of the RA must have made a fortune running the criminal organization.
The door to the house opened as Cecil mounted the front steps, light pouring from the entry hall framing a burly man with a mask.
A feminine voice called from the top of a staircase whose railings were covered with drop cloths, “Come in, Lord Wycliffe. We’ve been expecting you.”