Gamble With Hearts (20 page)

But it seemed that Pentherbridge no longer cared.

Coarsely, he described his assault upon Miss Wrexham, deliberately dwelling upon such details as must enrage any lover. Charles, fast losing control, advanced on the man he had already half-killed. His one idea was to stop the stream of obscenity that fell from the lips of one almost unrecognisable in his sudden frenzy. So furious was he that he did not see Pentherbridge reach inside his coat and bring out a small gleaming blade. He flung himself upon his enemy; there was a struggle. Pentherbridge with a madman's strength held Carlington beneath him while, with one hand, he raised his gleaming dagger. A shot rang out and the knife clattered harmlessly to the floor.

Carlington raised himself wearily, pushing Pentherbridge's body away with an air of complete disgust. He raised his head and saw silhouetted in the doorway his friend, Ned, a still-smoking pistol in his hand.

‘How long have you been there?’ he asked.

‘Long enough, guv'ner. It were as well to stop 'is mouth. Ye didn't want 'is kind troubling you and yer lady. 'E was a bad 'un, 'e was. I've seen some villains in my time, but he beats 'em all 'ollow, 'e does.’

‘A villain indeed, Ned, but at the end I think he was mad. I cannot say I am sorry he is dead.’

‘Nay, lad, no need to grieve for the likes of 'im. Just you step upstairs now an' have a sup of ale, an' we'll make a report all nice and tight, an' then ye can forget the ‘ole h'incident.’ So saying, the Runner took Carlington's arm and led him out of the room.

Charlotte had, by this time, worked herself into such a state of anxiety that the Marquis offered to step round to Carlington's lodging to see if anything were amiss. He was upon the point of departing, most reluctantly, when the doorbell sounded once more and Viscount Carlington was ushered into the room.

‘Charles, Charles darling, whatever is wrong? You look so pale and ill!’ cried Miss Wrexham as she ran to his side.

He smiled rather wanly and put his arm around her. ‘Nothing is wrong now, my love, but I am afraid I have had rather a bad morning.’

‘What is it, Charles?'' asked the Marquis, handing his young friend a large glass of brandy.

Carlington drained it gratefully and a little colour returned to his cheeks. ‘I beg your pardon, ladies, for having failed to keep my appointment. I was obliged to go to Bow Street.’

‘Bow Street!’ exclaimed Charlotte. ‘Whatever for?’

‘My uncle wanted to see me. He thought to offer me a proposition. He would tell me where he had my money hidden away, and in return—to tell you the truth, I do not know what he wanted in return. His dashed impudence was too much for me.’

‘The toad!’ cried Miss Wrexham with unwonted heat. ‘I hope you strangled him!’

‘My love, really,’ expostulated her mama, quite shocked.. ‘So unladylike.’

 
‘I feel unladylike,’ she replied, unrepentant.

‘Did you—er—strangle him?’ asked the Marquis, whose observant eyes had noticed a graze upon Carlington's cheek.

‘Almost, sir. Then he went for his knife. Lord knows where he got it from. I was nearly done for, I can tell you. Anyway, one of the Runners heard what was going on and—well, the short tale is, he's dead.’

‘The Runner?’ exclaimed Mrs Wrexham, horrified.

‘No, my uncle,’

The Marquis looked very grave. ‘Was it really necessary to kill him? He was quite mad, you know.’

‘I am afraid it was, sir. It was him or me.’

‘Then I am naturally glad that it was he who perished. A pity though, that we can never now discover where his money, or rather, your money, Charles, has got to.’

‘Can we not, sir?’ replied Charles with a grin. ‘I have a pretty good idea.’

‘Charles, do not be mysterious,’
Charlotte
besought him. ‘Tell us what you mean.’

‘Why, only that there was a certain key upon his watch chain, a strongbox key if I am not much mistaken. I have put the matter in the hands of
Bow Street
. I shall be much surprised if a visit to
Beauchamps
Park
does not yield the strongbox itself. My uncle was not the man to leave his money out of reach. He would want it to hand. I have no doubt it is cleverly concealed, but it is there somewhere, and we will find it.’

‘I fancy you are right, Charles. Too dangerous to put it in a bank near Beauchamps. Too far away in town. Yes, I think you will be proved correct. Well, how very satisfactory.’

Charlotte
gave a little shudder as she thought of her experience the previous night. Certainly it was a sin to be glad that another human being was dead, but she could not help it. While he lived, she felt he would always have been a danger to their peace. She shook her curls as though to shake off oppression and, turning eagerly to her mama, she said; ‘Dearest Mama, may I tell Charles your news?’

Mrs Wrexham smiled her assent. Charles, of course, was already aware that the Marquis had intended to make Mrs Wrexham his wife, but that did not prevent him from greeting the news with the greatest surprise and delight. He offered his old friend the most fervent congratulations and mockingly asked his permission to address his new daughter.

‘I do not know, scapegrace. Are you worthy of her?’ asked the Marquis, smiling.

Charles was suddenly sobered. He took Charlotte's hand and held it very gently. ‘No, Sir, I am not worthy of her yet. But God knows, I will try. I will try every day to become so. Oh,
Charlotte
! There is so much to be done! When you see Beauchamps, you will see how my uncle's mismanagement had caused such misery. It is for us to put right, my love. Will you be willing to come with me? To leave London and bury yourself with me in the country until Beauchamps is again as it was in my father's day?’

‘My dear, I could not ask for more of life. How happy we will be! I shall start a school in the village, and you will be able to try out all those new methods that Mr Edridge is always talking of.’

Seeing that the two young people were quite absorbed, the Marquis and Mrs Wrexham quietly left the room. They were both smiling at their thoughts. The Marquis was full of satisfaction that the rakish youth, who had for so long worried him with his irresponsible behaviour, seemed in a fair way to becoming a respectable landowner; and Mrs Wrexham was delighted that her clever daughter would have full scope for her talents in her new sphere. For herself, however, she fervently hoped that her husband-to-be would be content as she was to live in town and indulge in those gentle pleasures that she had come so much to enjoy. She and the Marquis understood each other perfectly, and as the young couple planned out their future regarding crop rotation and charity schools, the elder pair was content to hold hands and whisper foolish endearments.

What a day of triumph it was for Lady Northwood when, before the end of their first Season, her sister became Marchioness of Ruthin and her niece became Viscountess Carlington. Nothing would prevent that good lady from taking all the credit for these matches, although she had expressly forbidden one, and had not had the smallest inkling about the other. She looked forward with much pleasure to visiting her dear sister at Milverly and often talked of making the journey to Beauchamps. Perhaps fortunately for the young couple this threat was never executed, for there is not a doubt that her ladyship would have much disapproved of the informal style favoured by the Viscount and his lady. However, there were many visits exchanged by the happy couples, and Miss Milverly derived much enjoyment from spending her time with first one and then the other of her new relations. Mr Edridge also was most happy to spend his long vacation in
Cumberland
, walking the acres with his host, and happily putting his expertise and enthusiasm at the disposal of his friend.

In short, although Charlotte's plan had not worked out quite as she had intended, there were very few days when she and her mama did not offer up thanks for the success of the gamble that had taken them, poor but determined, to the Metropolis.

The end