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Authors: Hilary Gilman

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‘I see, ma'am. I am sorry to have inconvenienced you. Please accept my apologies.’ With this, he stalked out of the room leaving a thoroughly overset young lady behind him.

Viscount Carlington had returned to his friend's lodging in the early hours of the morning and, like Charlotte, had enjoyed a deep and refreshing sleep. He awoke feeling very much better and was able to do justice to the excellent breakfast that Osborne provided. The batman had been sent off the previous day upon a commission nicely calculated to keep him out of town for a sennight, and the three friends were able to relax in the comfort of complete security. It was Lord Fitzroy, not usually the most observant of men, who first noticed the presence of two unsavoury characters lounging in the street below.

‘You know, Ricky, those fellows have b-been hanging around for the p-past two days. I'm b-beginning to wonder what they want.’

Captain Osborne strode to the window and peered out from behind the curtain. ‘Are you sure, Fitz?’

‘D-dash it, of course I'm sure. Come to think of it, I'd swear they've b-been hanging about ever
 
since Charles d-disappeared.’

‘Then why in God's name did you not mention this before, Fitz? Oh, never mind,’ he added, seeing Lord Fitzroy casting about for an explanation. ‘Come over here, Charles. Did you notice anyone outside the house last night as you came in?’

Carlington joined the others at the window. ‘Now you come to mention it, I have seen those two before, but not outside this house. I saw them in Hill Street!’

They exchanged looks. Fitz gave a low whistle. ‘I t-tell you what, Charles, they followed you there!’

‘Thank you, Fitz. I had already worked that out for myself. But why? Why don't they just arrest me?’

Osborne shook his head. ‘They must be under orders. I did not want to tell you this, Charles, but there has been some talk that all three of us were involved in the murder. My guess is that they're hoping to get evidence against all of us.’

‘Good God, you fellows! Why didn't you tell me this? I'm going to clear this up once and for all. I'm off to Bow Street now!’

It took the combined efforts of Lord Fitzroy and Captain Osborne some half hour to dissuade Carlington from this noble course. He was still dissatisfied but reluctantly promised not to give himself up until he had seen the Marquis in whose influence the two friends had the greatest faith.

Thus it was that the Marquis of Ruthin, engaged in tooling his elegant equipage down Mount Street towards the Park, was accosted by a grubby urchin who silently proffered a dirty note. The Marquis read this epistle and there was a noticeable lightening of his brow as he turned his horses' heads away from the fashionable streets and headed for the less salubrious area of Covent Garden. Carlington had chosen for his rendezvous an inn so patronised by the criminal elements that, he reasoned; the Runners would hesitate to follow him there. In this he was perfectly correct. No Runner liked to go unarmed into territory where he was known and hated, particularly those such as Ned and Henry, whose record for bringing villains to Tyburn was extremely good. Therefore Charles was without his usual escort and able to greet his old friend with all his usual cheerfulness. He had by now acquitted the Marquis of evil designs upon him and was anxious to discuss the affair with someone for whose intelligence he had a high regard. The Marquis greeted his young friend with great warmth. ‘My dear boy, I cannot tell you how glad I am to see you safe and well. I was beginning to despair. A fine way to treat your old friends, you young scapegrace! Could you not have sent to me for assistance?’

‘To tell you the truth, sir, this is the first opportunity I have had to do so. I have been out of the country!’

‘What?’

‘Oh, yes. Whoever arranged Farnley's murder was clever enough to get rid of me at the same time. If he had had his way I should be halfway to the West Indies by now!’

Once more the Viscount embarked on the tale of his adventures. The Marquis was no less appreciative than Charlotte had been. Indeed he went so far as to wish that he had been at his young friend's side.

‘I wish you had, sir. It would have been beyond anything great!’

The Marquis smiled absently, but it was apparent that he was deep in thought. ‘Charles, I have some thoughts upon this, but before I say anything, tell me, have you any idea who this enemy of yours might be?’

‘To tell you the truth, sir, when I heard that you had become engaged to Charlotte I did think it might be you. Of course,’ he added hastily, ‘as soon as Charlotte explained to me how it was, I realised that I was wrong. It was no pleasure to me to think badly of you, sir.’

‘No, I should have realised how it would look to you, Charles. Unfortunately, I had very little choice in the matter. I assure you it has been by no means easy for me either. However, that is neither here nor there. We must decide what is to be done next.’

‘At the moment I have only one suggestion,’ the Viscount told him. ‘It is really Charlotte's idea, but I think there may be something in it. It concerns my uncle!''

‘Ah yes, Pentherbridge,’ drawled the Marquis, unsurprised.

‘Why, sir, did you suspect him too?’

‘He seemed to me to be the obvious candidate, Charles, but pray continue. Why has suspicion fallen at last upon your so careful uncle?’

‘Well, it seems that he had the effrontery to accost
Charlotte
at the ball she was at a couple of evenings ago. He dashed well trapped her in a room with him and would not release her. I would like to kill him just for that. However, there is more. He intimated that he knew something about the murder and what had become of me. Now why he should do so I have no idea, but
Charlotte
is convinced that he is behind the whole thing. The only thing is, I cannot for the life of me see why. I mean, he may be a cursed bad trustee, but to tell you the truth, I always thought he was quite a harmless fellow.’

‘What a very intelligent young woman Miss Wrexham is, Charles. She does not trust Pentherbridge, and I have good reason to know that your father did not wholly trust him either. That was one of the reasons he asked me to keep an eye on you. What is more, if you seek a motive, I can furnish one. In four months' time the estate is yours, and Pentherbridge will be called upon to account for his stewardship. My guess is that you will find that he has bled the estate white!’

‘So that when he saw the opportunity to get rid of me—’ mused the Viscount.

‘Naturally, he took it. Do not forget that he is your heir. If he inherits then there will be no accounting. I must say it is a far neater plan than I would have credited him with. I fear I have underestimated your uncle badly.’

There was a very determined look about the Viscount's mouth. ‘The cowardly, lily-livered, commoner!’ he said, through his teeth. ‘I'll make him very sorry!’

The Marquis laid a hand upon his young friend's shoulder. ‘He shall pay, Charles, but not that way. It must be done legally so that your name is cleared. I cannot have my son-in-law a fugitive from justice!’

‘Son-in-law?’ repeated Carlington, puzzled. ‘But I am not going to marry Amelia.’

‘True. I am, however, going to marry Mrs Wrexham which will, I am afraid, make me your father-in-law upon your marriage to Charlotte.’

‘I say, sir, that is wonderful news! Does
Charlotte
know?’

‘At the moment, Charles, even Mrs Wrexham does not know. There are certain difficulties in the way of offering for the mother of the lady one is betrothed to!’ the Marquis answered rather tartly.

Charles laughed. ‘I am sorry, sir! You must have been cursing me. However, everything is going to be alright now, is it not?’

‘I certainly hope so. Now listen, Charles, for I have a plan which I think might possibly deliver Mr Pentherbridge into the arms of the law with very little effort on our part!’

Miss Wrexham had, much to her mama's delight, been singing around the house the whole morning. The relief of Carlington's reappearance in one piece had so affected her that she had quite forgotten that for the moment he was still a wanted man and their troubles were far from over. She had arrayed herself in her most becoming gown for, although she was well aware that he was unlikely to see her in it, to have worn anything else would have accorded ill with her mood.

She spent the afternoon helping her Aunt to arrange bouquets of spring flowers around the house, and in general comported herself so much like a ray of sunshine that the two elder ladies began to wish for a return of her former gloom.

 
A hurried note reached her from Charles by the hand of her abigail and, although it contained little beyond the information that he had talked to the Marquis, she pressed it to her lips so many times that the paper became soggy. This happy state continued into early evening when it was rudely shattered by yet another note, this time from Pentherbridge. She was to meet him at a certain address in an area with which she was quite unfamiliar, at ten o'clock that night. Miss Wrexham was a brave girl but it was a daunting prospect. Her only encounter with Mr Pentherbridge had been brief, but it had left her with a considerable disinclination for his society. She disliked the way he looked at her and was loath to put herself in his power. However, the summons had been anticipated and she had discussed the question with Charles. Quickly she composed a note enclosing Pentherbridge's and stating that she intended to keep the appointment. This she despatched by the footman to Captain Osborne's lodging, in accordance with Charles' instructions.

Charles had returned only a few minutes earlier when
Charlotte
's note was delivered. The footman, who had already received a substantial gratuity from Miss Wrexham, was further rewarded with a guinea and expressed his willingness to execute any other commissions with considerable warmth. He was, however, dismissed and went off whistling jauntily, the coins jingling in his pockets; pleasantly aware that by his labours he had helped to smooth the thorny path of true love.

Carlington, having perused the letter, lost no time in acquainting his friends with the contents. Lord Fitzroy was chiefly struck by the impropriety of Miss Wrexham being obliged to meet a stranger, un-chaperoned, in such an unsavoury neighbourhood. Carlington was far from easy upon this score himself but, as he intended to reach the rendezvous long before his betrothed, it could not be allowed to signify. Alas for such plans! As Carlington stepped outside the house that evening, he was unpleasantly assailed by a large hand upon his shoulder and an uncultured voice in his ear announced. ‘I arrest you, Charles Carlington, in the name of the Law!’

Charlotte had never had to find her way about in London, particularly after dark, but she was a girl of resource and had no difficulty in slipping out of the house and hailing a hackney coach which, most fortunately, happened to be passing. She found herself jolted down unfamiliar streets, past Westminster Abbey and was dismayed to find herself actually crossing the river. The streets became more mean and squalid as she was driven further, and she began to feel extremely nervous. This was not what she had expected. What could the man mean by bringing her here? She could not but feel that calls for help were unlikely to be heeded in this desolate place, and for a moment she seriously considered asking the jarvey to turn his cab around and take her back to
Hill Street
. Only the thought that Carlington would not fail her prevented her from taking this course. When the cab finally drew up outside a rickety building, she dismounted with outward calm and fished in her reticule for the fare. The jarvey took the coins but seemed dissatisfied.

‘I don't like leavin' you 'ere, Miss, an' that's a fact. I don't know what a lady like you wants in a ken like this, but there's some cullies round 'ere as 'ud break your 'ead for the sake o' those pretty earrings you got on and I don't know as I should leave you 'ere.’

‘Please do not trouble yourself, I shall be quite alright. If you would not mind waiting just until I am inside the house, I would be most grateful, however.’

‘Aye, that I'll do,’ he assured her, and watched as the door opened to admit her before driving away at a spanking pace, shaking his head over the strange ways of the quality.

The house was furnished rather more sumptuously than its locality had led Charlotte to expect, but she was too inexperienced to understand what the abundance of dirty crimson furniture and dusty gilt mirrors portended. The door had been opened to her by a toothless crone who merely grunted in reply to Miss Wrexham's polite greeting and led her, muttering balefully, up worm-eaten stairs and into a room furnished as a parlour. There, Pentherbridge was waiting for her.

It was obvious, even to Charlotte's inexperienced eye, that her host had been drinking heavily. As he bowed over her hand with exaggerated courtesy, she could smell spirits upon his breath and wrinkled her nose in disgust. Normally immaculate, his neck cloth was disarrayed, his linen a little soiled.

Quickly, she disengaged her hand and, crossing the room, seated herself upon a spindly chair from which she surveyed Pentherbridge with disdain. ‘Why have you brought me here? What is it you have to tell me?’ she demanded.

‘All in good time, my sweet. Will you not join me in a glass of wine first?’ he answered, proffering a half-empty bottle.

‘Certainly not! This is not a social occasion,’ she answered curtly, clutching her reticule and biting her lips to fight back rising panic.

BOOK: Gamble With Hearts
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