Page 67 of Scandalous Nights With the Earl

‘I never hurt her. I swear I didn’t. I was playing a game, you see, so she would sign the document and I could leave.’

‘Cease.’ Phillip heard the words as if from a distance, the thrumming heat of anger burning into everything as he thought of how Wilhelmina must have felt at that moment. ‘You areruined, St Claire. Your accusations have all been debunked by those whom you threatened into helping you, so the only decent thing you can do now is to issue an apology and disappear from Society forever. Do you understand?’

The sound of voices became louder and the three men who had been sitting with St Claire in the tavern pushed through the undergrowth, their fists up.

Oliver hit the first one and downed him and Phillip took out the next man. The last two were harder, though Phillip managed to kick Simon St Claire in the face before he joined them in the fracas, and he lay unmoving on the ground.

Then Phillip crouched and went in low, the third man with the stick a heavier and more dangerous opponent. Still, he’d had these sort of fights in America and a lot of the memories surged back. He grabbed the weapon as it came down on the side of his chin and held his opponent on the ground.

Oliver had the fourth man on his knees, though there was a wicked bruising mark across his left eye where something had connected.

A moment later the local constabulary were there, called by those in the tavern, no doubt, and the questioning began. Within a few moments all of their assailants were hauled off. In relief Oliver and Phillip stood there looking at each other.

‘A good afternoon’s work, I’d say.’ Oliver bent to retrieve his hat as he said this. ‘Where the hell did you learn to fight like that, brother?’

‘America. It was not an easy place to travel and I was still getting over Gretel’s death.’

‘We make a good team. You and I.’

Phillip began to laugh and something shifted inside him. Anger, hate, regrets and bitterness, he thought. They all seemed lessened somehow because he’d believed Simon St Claire whenhe’d told them he had not seen Wilhelmina after she had run from him.

Now all he had to do was to find out where the hell she had run to.

The cottage inhabited by the old McAllistair sisters in Royal Tunbridge Wells was set in a garden behind which stood a glade of trees, the birdsong loud as Phillip arrived the next evening.

The servant who answered the door took him through to a cosy parlour on one side of the hallway where the three McAllistair sisters were all arranged on their dainty chintz chairs, stiff drinks on the table before them.

‘I am sorry to disturb you…’ he began but was instantly interrupted by the shortest sister.

‘Lord Elmsworth. Did you find her?’ She was on her feet now, looking around behind him. ‘Did you bring Willa back with you?’

The sister next to her was just as frantic when she saw he had not. ‘She disappeared so suddenly and of course we have heard the very worrying rumours about her involvement in the death of her late husband, but they cannot possibly be true.’

‘You are right and they are not. Mr Simon St Claire has rescinded every one of his accusations and apologised, and I have made sure that he will not trouble her again.’

‘But where is she, then? Where has she gone to?’ The third sister, with the glasses, finished her drink in one gulp after she had said this and frowned.

‘That is why I am here. To ask you to tell me anything at all you remember Wilhelmina saying when you last saw her. Did she tell you of her direction? Did she have money on her? Did she need anything to take with her?’

The thinnest sister sat down and Phillip could tell she wanted to say something.

‘I can help Wilhelmina and make sure that she is safe. I can find her.’ He tempered his worry so that they might feel easier.

‘Well, the day Willa came here she was in a state. Oh, she tried to hide it from us but we could tell she had been crying and all she had with her was her pelisse. No hat. No coat. Nothing. She said she had run from her rented house because a man had been there threatening her and she thought him dangerous. She said he imagined her to br a loose woman and had made the most unwanted advances.’ Horror was reflected in opaque blue eyes.

‘We gave her a coat and hat and a small suitcase with a few other things that we thought she might need. Jean tried to press some money into her hands but Wilhelmina said she had enough and would not require it. She sat with us for a few moments and had a drink and a sandwich and then she just got up and left.’ A deeper frown marred her brow. ‘We tried to rush after her but at our age any rushing is nigh on impossible and so we had to let her go.’

‘And you have not heard from her since.’

The lady with the glasses shifted in her seat as she shook her head and looked nervous. ‘I had a dream about her, my lord. I dreamt she was in a house in a block of other houses, a stone house by a river port. She was lying on the bed in her clothes in the middle of the day and the window was open. There were wooded hills behind.’

‘Do you often have these sort of dreams?’ Phillip was worried enough not to dismiss anything.

‘She does, my lord.’ The older sister spoke again. ‘And they very often come true. Our mother was the same. We are used to it.’

‘Did she say anything in your dream?’ His words were quiet as he addressed the woman with the glasses.

‘She said she needed help, my lord, because she is sick.’