Page 25 of Lord Heartless

They were going to Hart's Rest, the Hartleigh country seat in Norfolk. They were all going: Cook and Byrd and all the new maids and footmen, half of Bow Street's Runners (the half that wasn't searching for Cantwell in London), a bunch of youngsters from the foundling home, and two girl children big with child, with no husbands.

Pippa's pony was going, as was Blackie, Aunt Mattie and her canary, Carissa's vast new wardrobe, the baby's crib, cradle, and carriage, in case there was nothing suitable in all of Norfolk, and Lesley's dueling pistols.

They were a cavalcade of four carriages, three wagons, and scores of outriders. They might as well send Phillip Kane an invitation, Carissa crossly thought. She resented it all, especially how she had to ride in the stuffy, closed carriage with Aunt Mattie and her canary, who could not be subject to drafts. Cleo was furious at being kept in her basket, and Pippa was back to sucking her thumb. The baby was fussy and Maisie was getting motion sickness. Lord Hartleigh, meanwhile, got to ride in his shiny curricle, driving his shiny team, while everyone else followed in his dust. The viscount and his man got to be in the open air, happy as larks, with the loutish dog between them.

Carissa wanted to be going home to her father, not going to another of Lord Hartleigh's holdings. She knew it was foolish, to be wishing to return to the security of childhood, but she knew the neighborhood, knew the neighbors. Her father would have to let her stay.

Instead she was traveling into uncharted territory with an attics-to-let champion. With a misguided sense of honor, in her opinion. Lord Hartleigh had developed the nonsensical notion that he was responsible for her well-being. She knew Lesley could not wish to continue her acquaintance, not with the mess she'd landed him in, the scandal, the danger, the destruction. He could not wish to marry her, she was positive, not after she'd lied to him. Carissa knew she could never marry anyone she thought might be less than truthful, not a second time.

"If I were connected to that loose screw,” he told her when she tried again at the first stop to convince him to let her go on alone, “I'd lie about it too. Why, if anyone asks me about Agatha and the Spillhammer sisters, I deny any relation. I do it all the time, without a bit of guilt.” He touched her cheek with one gloved hand. “It's going to be all right, Carissa. You'll see."

"You wouldn't lie to me?” She was asking a lot. He answered a little: “Why should I? You already know about Agatha."

When they arrived at the country house, which had twenty bedrooms in the guest wing, Carissa was too busy with today to worry about tomorrow. The house had been in the Hartleigh family for generations; so had the staff. The housekeeper wasn't the least offended by Carissa's offer to help, taking the opportunity instead to nurse her rheumatics. The equally ancient butler was happy to share his door-keeping duties with Byrd, what with all the comings and goings. The place had not seen so much activity since Lesley's father's funeral. After that solemn event, the new widow had taken herself to London and had never been back.

Master Lesley had been away at school, then on his travels. The servants were not used to babies, children, or pets, to say nothing of armed guards. Three of the oldest, including the house steward and the cook, opted to accept their retirement pensions and moved into one of the numerous cottages scattered about the vast estate. The head gardener took one look at Gladiator and joined them.

Carissa had to find rooms for everyone, see that the children were settled comfortably, and divide up the work to be done among the old servants and the new. The house hadn't had a good cleaning in years, and the linens were in disrepair. She was so busy she did not have time to realize that she was a virtual prisoner at the estate, never allowed out of doors without a guard or the viscount at her side. She was also so busy that she never noticed that the kitchen cat was a tom. Cleopatra noticed.

Lesley, meanwhile, was organizing his troops to defend his castle, as it were. He also rode over the whole estate, visiting with the tenant families he'd grown up among, asking them to keep an eye out for strangers. Sometimes he took Carissa along in the curricle, sometimes he invited her and Pippa both to accompany him on his rounds on horseback. In all instances, Byrd or Nesbitt or another of the Bow Street gentlemen rode behind. Sometimes Jem, the head groom, followed too.

Pippa had the run of the kitchen garden, the knot garden, and the walled garden, when one of her guards was present. In no time she was berry-brown and her hair was sun-streaked. Aunt Mattie made the acquaintance of the vicar and his wife, who returned her calls. Soon other neighbors, the squire and his family, a retired general's widow, Lord Halbersham and his lady, who was breeding and so missing the Season, all started leaving cards and sending invitations. There were dinner parties, evenings of whist, dances at the local assembly, lawn picnics, and boating parties.

Carissa was accepted as Lesley's guest. If anyone speculated further, they did it amongst themselves, not in her hearing. Everyone commended Hartleigh for taking in his “foundling” ward, so even the presence of his by-blow was not dampening their welcome.

The tenants were pleased to see their landlord take up residence, for improvements got planned, investments got made in stock and tools, and problems were listened to, without waiting for the estate manager to contact his lordship in London. They would have been happy to see him if he'd brought his opera dancer to Norfolk. A well-bred, lovely lady had them hoping that Lord Heartless would settle at long last.

Soon the farm wives were asking Carissa's opinions on recipes and roses, rearing children and reading lessons for their own daughters. With Lesley's approval and endowment, she set up a school for girls to match the boys’ classes.

Everyone was kind, everything was blossoming. Life was good, better than Carissa felt she deserved, except for the ever-present threat of Phillip Kane. Like a nagging toothache, he could not be forgotten. There were no reports from Bow Street yet, no sightings, no arrests. Carissa watched Pippa exercise her pony on the front lawn, under Jem's tutelage, while Aunt Mattie napped on a chaise longue and Maisie rocked the baby in her carriage. She wished she could be as carefree as the others. Even her cat was getting fat and lazy.

Lesley had not mentioned marriage again. Carissa told herself he must have changed his mind, after reflection, choosing the much wiser course. Then she told herself he was merely waiting for the barristers to decide if she was a wife, a widow, or an unwed mother. She didn't want to hurry the verdict, wishing this idyll could go on forever.

It couldn't.

Sue was ill one day, feverish and fussing, and she would not eat. Carissa thought she was simply teething, but Lesley insisted the doctor be sent for. Until he arrived, they were taking turns walking with her, sponging her hot face, singing lullabies, both of them out of tune. Pippa was missing her ride with the viscount, her lesson with her mother, her walk with Maisie, so Aunt Mattie offered to take her along to play with the vicarage children. Jem would drive them in the carriage, naturally, and Pippa knew never to wander off by herself, so Carissa agreed.

The vicar and his wife had five children, one a little girl a year older than Pippa, the first young friend she had ever had. The rest were boys who had a wonderful collection of injured rabbits, broken-winged birds, frogs, and garden snakes in their old barn. They even had a pet hedgehog that would take seeds out of one's hand. After the animals were all picked up and petted, the children started a game of hide-and-go-seek around the barn. Only they never did find Pippa.

Every soul within miles was enlisted in the search, everyone who could ride and carry a weapon, that is, for Kane had to be desperate to steal his own daughter, and desperate men were the most dangerous. Riders were sent to outlying farms, abandoned cottages, and woodsman's shacks.

Kane could not have gone so far, Lesley swore to Carissa, that they would not find him. Inspector Nesbitt assured her that Kane wasn't going to harm the child, that he undoubtedly only wanted to hold her for ransom. A note would arrive soon, he believed, and had his men hide in bushes near the house. Guilt-ridden that he'd taken the carriage horses to the blacksmith while Lady Mathilda had her visit, Jem was one of them, vowing to see the vermin hanged. Byrd sharpened his knife.

The note came a few hours later, before Carissa had time for full-blown hysterics, but via no messenger who could be questioned. A rock had been tossed through the schoolhouse window. One of the boys had lathered his pony riding to Hart's Rest to deliver the message tied to it.

Come alone, it said, or the brat dies. Bring 2,000 pounds to the turnpike crossroads tomorrow at 9 A.M.

"Good,” Leslie said, “that means he is still in the neighborhood. We have all afternoon and night to find him."

"You cannot,” Carissa protested. “He'll hurt Pippa!"

Lesley grasped her shoulders. “You'll have to trust me, Carissa. I would never do anything to jeopardize your daughter. You must know that by now."

She looked into his blue eyes and nodded. Besides, she did not need him or Nesbitt to warn her that Pippa's safety was not assured even if they did everything Kane wanted. The man was insane and had no sense of honor. “Very well, we'll try to find him. But where? You've sent riders in every direction, and none report anyone seeing him anywhere."

"I have an idea. Do not get your hopes up, but remember that I grew up in this neighborhood. Kane did not."

He left to give instructions for a squadron of armed men to spend the night at the crossroads, hiding behind bushes, up in trees if need be, to lay an ambush for Kane in the morning, in case they missed him this afternoon.

He returned with pistols in his pocket, sword buckled at his waist, and a fight on his hands. “No, you are not going. Nor you, Byrd. I need you here to coordinate all the other searchers and to get the best marksmen well hidden.” Byrd merely told him to watch his back. Lesley assigned some of the others to stay to guard the house and the womenfolk.

"I would not put it past that bastard to double back, intent on thievery while he thinks we are scouring the countryside. Come, Glad."

"'Come, Glad'? You'd take the dog and not me?” Carissa was outraged. “The note was addressed to me. Pippa is my daughter."

It was his money, but Lesley didn't say so. He said it was too dangerous, instead. But he was telling it to her back, for Mrs. Kane was already outside, mounted.

Lesley hauled the dog onto his own saddle and mounted behind, calming the horse's fidgets at the unaccustomed weight. Glad sat like a maharaja on an elephant, long ears waving.

They rode back to the vicar's barn and dismounted. The viscount showed Glad one of Pippa's stockings that he'd had Carissa bring and told the dog to go find her.

"That's your plan?” Carissa wanted to know as they watched the dog circle the barn, nose to the ground, which wasn't all that far, considering his short legs. “To follow the hell-hound after hares? Gladiator could not find his tail if it weren't affixed to his rear end."

Lesley led his horse after the dog. “You have merely mistaken laziness for stupidity. Glad has an amazing nose. He can find a lamb chop two miles away; he'll find Pippa. Watch."

Soon enough, Glad had left the vicarage property and was heading up a deer path through a wooded region.

"Rabbits,” Carissa scoffed, but followed.

Every few yards Glad would stop and sniff at the ground, then lick his lips. Lesley watched more carefully, then called back: “I was right! He's on their trail. Look, Carissa. Gingerbread crumbs. Pippa knew we'd be coming! What a brilliant child!"

Carissa could only think how frightened the little girl must be. She also vowed to have Cook keep a steady supply of steaks for the dog. As for the viscount, she could not imagine how she could make this up to him. He hadn't hesitated an instant to face down her demons, and pay for the privilege. She did not think she could ever love anyone more.

Lesley was pleased, for he thought he knew where the dog was heading. As he told Carissa, there was a decrepit shack hidden in the woods, where an old poacher, Mortimer, had settled. Lesley's father had permitted the encroachment because Mortimer had kept other trespassers away. He and the viscount had had a gentleman's agreement that Mortimer wouldn't use traps, interfere with Hartleigh's fox-hunting, or sell what he shot. In return, the viscount had pretended he did not know of Mortimer's existence. Both old men had been gone for years, and Lesley wondered if the place had stood empty since then or if some other hungry felon had discovered it. Perhaps a drifter had directed Kane to the rude shelter. It would be torn down before the week was out.

When they got nearer the area where he recalled the shack to be located, Lesley indicated they should tether the horses and proceed on foot, silently. Of course, Glad barged ahead, baying. Lesley shrugged and took Carissa's hand for comfort as they reached a small clearing. The remains of a rough stone cottage were in a heap, but the windowless wooden shed where old Mortimer must have kept a cow or a goat was still standing. And standing outside it was Phillip Kane, holding Pippa in front of him, with a pistol pressed against her temple. Lesley squeezed Carissa's hand, then slowly raised both of his above his head, away from the pistols or the sword.

"I knew you'd come,” Kane said, ignoring Carissa. “Just the kind of mock heroics I'd expect from a prime goer like you, Hartleigh. Get in.” He gestured them to go past him, into the thatched shed. Glad darted between them, trying to get to Pippa's pockets.

"Call him off, Hartleigh, or I'll shoot him."

Lesley whistled for Glad to come to him, but said, “Oh, I doubt that. Then your pistol would be useless, wouldn't it? You might have to fight me like a man."

Kane wasn't taking the gun away from Pippa's head. “Did you bring it, my two thousand pounds?"

Lesley nodded and slowly lowered one hand to his waistcoat and withdrew a purse. “It's not the entire amount, just what I had in the house. But I've done better. I put in a letter for my yacht's crew. They'll take you anywhere you want to go.” So long as it was down. “And we finally got the deed to Parkhurst's house. That's here, too."

"But the house is bur—” Carissa began.

"Being painted,” Lesley quickly said. He tossed the purse wide, hoping to make Kane release Pippa to retrieve it, but the man stooped and told her to pick it up.

"You have what you wanted, Kane. Now let the girl go."

Kane was making his way to the doorway, his eyes on the viscount, his pistol on Pippa. “I let her go and I'm a dead man, Hartleigh. I'm not that big a fool. The chit is my safe passage."

"No!” Carissa screamed.

"Touching, cara mia, but the brat goes with me. Besides, she is my own flesh and blood. My darling daughter, isn't that right, Pippy?"

Pippa turned to look up at him. “My lord promised he'd be my papa,” she said. “Not you."

"Well, then, to show there's no hard feelings, I'll make you a wedding present, Carrie. I'll leave the chit at the crossroads for you, like I said. The brat would only slow me down, anyway."

"It will be dark! You cannot leave her there."

He ignored her pleas. “And I'll even put some of my papers on a body somewhere when I get a chance, so the authorities can say I died. Clever, huh? You and your lover can thank me. For now you'll stay put here. Someone might come find you when the chit tells them. Then again, she might not remember the way or have any more bread crumbs.” He shrugged. “That'll be too bad."

He backed out of the opening, holding Pippa like a shield, then slammed the door shut, barring it from the outside. Carissa rushed to the door and began pounding on it, crying, until Lesley pulled her away. “You've got to be brave, sweetheart."

"Oh, no, I don't, you clunch! I can be as frightened as I want! I simply have to do what is necessary to get my daughter back, but I do not have to be brave and you must not ask it of me! I refuse to try!"

"I believe you have just defined courage, my love. You'll do. Now let's figure a way out of here."