Ghost of the Thames (33 page)

“Do you know where she is?” he asked
more sharply.

“I cannot be certain. But I can tell
you Lord Beauchamp sent a note to Mr. Warren this
morning.”

CHAPTER 41

The door closed behind them. She was
trapped.

“Thank you for receiving me, m’lord,”
Sophy spoke serenely, giving no indication of the confusion and
betrayal mauling her insides at the sight of John Warren in Lord
Beauchamp’s company.

To give him credit, the nobleman kept
up a pretense of civility.

“Catherine. I expected to see you this
evening, but not before.”

“My uncle was of the opinion that I
would not be attending tonight, so I decided that it would be a
dishonor to my family to come all the way to England and not meet
you.”

“But we
have
met,” he said,
“when you were an infant.”

“I know my father would not wish to
have me slight my godfather.”

Beauchamp nodded brusquely, as if he
recognized what she was reminding him of—the importance of their
relation and of his responsibility. There was no warmth in his
voice or actions, though, as he walked over to where a decanter and
glasses sat on a table near the window.

Sophy thought of the ledger book she’d
brought along. It was on a table behind her. Neither man seemed to
have noticed it. Her uncle was still standing by the door, cutting
her with his gaze.

“Would either of you care to sit
down?” Beauchamp asked graciously.

“You might have told me your wishes,
instead of climbing down the walls like a thief,” Warren scolded,
leaning on his cane as he took a seat.

Sophy remained standing in front of
the table. “I might have done so, if our meeting last night were a
conversation and not so much a reprimand.”

“You deserve nothing more, considering
your peculiar behavior these past months.”

“I explained the cause of it. I was
injured.”

“Obviously not hurt enough to attend
social events and be seen in public.”

Beauchamp turned to Sophy. “So why
have you really come here?”

She guessed they were past the
pleasantries. And since he’d summoned John Warren here, she might
as well speak her mind, regardless of her uncle’s presence. She
knew she would not have another chance. Still, she needed to choose
which battle she wanted to fight right now.

“I am here to seek your mediation in a
matter of great importance. In a disagreement between my uncle and
myself.”

“Don’t you dare speak as if I am not
here,” Warren growled.

“You
are
here,” Sophy said calmly. “And
that makes this a perfect opportunity to resolve a matter that you
had no interest in discussing last night.”

Warren sat forward in the
chair, leaning on his cane. “You
will
marry as your father
instructed.”

“My father would not have chosen a
husband for me whom he had not even met—especially not someone who
is a lowly employee of yours.”

“I have it in writing.”

“A forgery, no doubt.”

“Stop defying me, girl,
or—”

“Or what, uncle?” she asked, biting
back the words that were so ready to spill out. Sophy wanted
desperately to accuse him of all the crimes that she knew he was
guilty of. She ached to let him know that she was fully aware of
his plans for her demise. But she had no champion in this
room.

Her only goal now was to walk out,
alive. It had been such a huge mistake to come here.

She turned to Beauchamp. “M’lord, I
have no desire to be married.”

“The answer is no,” Warren
interrupted sharply. “You
will
do as I—”

“I'd like to spend some
time in London. Take my time and chose a husband…with
your
guidance,” she
added in a rush.

“That’s enough,” Warren snapped,
pushing to his feet. “You can forget about waiting three weeks for
the banns to be read. You will be on a ship back to India on the
next tide. A wedding can be performed once you are back in
Calcutta.”

“My father had so much respect for
you,” Sophy spoke to Beauchamp, ignoring the tirade of the other
man. “He always told me that you would be my champion in times of
difficulty. I only ask you to intercede on my behalf against my
uncle's unreasonable wishes.”

With a tired expression on his face,
Beauchamp turned and looked out a window. Sophy knew she had her
answer.

“You will leave this room with me
now,” Warren threatened, “or I will have you forcibly removed and
dragged home.”

“Home?” Sophy said with as much
disdain as she could put into the word.

Just then, she heard loud noises
outside the door. She considered running.

“What is that book?” Beauchamp asked,
his attention fixed on the ledger sitting on the table behind
Sophy.

She was in enough trouble without her
uncle realizing what she had in her possession. The aristocrat
walked toward her. Without the ledger, she would lose everything.
Her uncle would steal her inheritance and continue his insidious
criminal activity. With it, she could fight and bring him
down.

Sophy reached for the book and
gathered it against her chest. “It is mine.”

There was an urgent knock on the
door.

“Bloody hell! That is my private
ledger,” Warren bellowed, recognizing what she was holding. “You
are a thief. Give that back to me.”

Sophy backed away from the two men.
There was another knock, followed by what sounded like a scuffle
outside the door.

Beauchamp turned to Warren. “What is
in the book?” he asked, suddenly interested.

Sophy edged toward the
door.

“A statement of accounts. Profits,
losses, expenses.”

“Names?” Beauchamp wanted to
know.

Sophy turned and dashed toward the
door.

“You don’t want her leaving with it,”
Warren warned, moving to cut her off. “There are names and other
private details in there that—”

The door behind her uncle burst open,
sending him staggering into the room. Sophy whirled around to see
Edward push two footmen aside and step in. Shouts of complaint and
explanations rang out. There was a crowd outside the door. Sophy
ran to him.

“We couldn’t stop him,
m’lord.”

“He wouldn’t wait.”

Sophy clutched at Edward’s arm and
glanced nervously at the door. More of Beauchamp’s servants were
gathering in the hall.

“Your lordship, it was urgent that I
speak with you before the arrival of the authorities,” Edward
announced, stepping in front of Sophy and blocking her from John
Warren.

“Authorities?” Beauchamp
asked.

“The police. They will be here
momentarily to arrest John Warren.”

“Leave us!” Beauchamp ordered the
servants. Everyone scattered and the door closed.

“Stop this nonsense. What would the
police want with me?” Warren snapped. “Captain, I told you before.
You have no right to be meddling in my private affairs.”

“Your secretary Peter Hodgson has
provided more than enough evidence for your arrest.”

Sophy saw Beauchamp visibly shrink
back against a table. He appeared to be an expert at assuming the
expression of an innocent bystander.

“Get out,” Warren shouted raising his
cane and stepping toward Edward. His face was crimson with fury,
the veins in his temple bulging. “Nothing you say will make any
difference in this chit’s fate. You cannot have her. You will
not—”

“Wait by the door,” Edward said under
his breath to Sophy.

Sophy backed slowly toward the door,
watching the scene unfolding before her. Beauchamp was only an
observer, but her uncle appeared out of control.

“There will be no marriage
arranged by you, Warren. In fact, you will not be in any position
to make
any
decisions having to do with your niece.”

Sophy froze. Time seemed to slow to a
crawl as her uncle pulled a small pistol from his jacket pocket.
She could only watch as the old man lifted the weapon and pointed
it at her.

“Then I will at least have some
satisfaction before going to prison.”

He fired.

She didn’t know how it happened, but
Edward reached her uncle, pushing him back as the pistol
flashed.

The loud bang, the smoke, and the
blood. The ledger book dropped from Sophy’s arms. She cried out and
ran toward Edward. He was holding his shoulder and standing over
John Warren, who lay sprawled on the floor.

“What the devil!” Beauchamp shouted as
the door burst open.

This time, uniformed Metropolitan
police officers poured into the room.

During the pandemonium that ensued,
Sophy’s focus was on Edward. Blood was seeping though the hole in
the fabric and soaking his coat. He appeared to be oblivious to it,
though, as he fired instructions regarding the arrest of John
Warren.

As they dragged her uncle out, she
turned to Lord Beauchamp and found him the very caring godfather,
ordering his servants to bring a doctor and reaching for Sophy’s
hand to offer fatherly support.

CHAPTER 42

“The ledger book is gone,” Edward told
Sophy after returning to Berkeley Square the next day. “No one
claims to have picked it up, and Beauchamp denies having seen it in
your possession.”

She was relieved that he was back.
Moving into his arms, she had to be careful to not put any pressure
against his left side. Edward had taken the bullet meant for her in
the same shoulder that he’d been wounded before. He claimed the
wound was just a scratch and had not slowed him down, but Sophy was
in the room with him when the doctor had removed the lead ball from
his flesh. He was simply being brave.

“You saw me holding the
ledger.”

“Yes, I did,” he said, kissing Sophy
on the brow. “But Lord Beauchamp has used his connection with the
royal family to distance himself from the entire affair. He denies
any involvement with your uncle beyond a few casual investments.
And as you know, the ball went on as planned last
evening.”

“But without the ledger, what proof is
there?”

“
Behind the public
posturing, Beauchamp has prompted his friends to act. They are all
accusing Warren of financial misconduct and of lying to your father
and other investors.”

“I wish I had read the entries more
closely,” she said. “And what about the other ledger books that
might have been in John Warren’s office?”

“The authorities are going through
them. I believe they may have been tampered with, however—perhaps
by Beauchamp’s people, though we will never know. I was told today
that it appears entire sections of the ledgers are
missing.”

She took Edward by the hand, leading
him upstairs. They’d brought Priya here to Edward’s house last
night, but he had yet to meet the older woman when she was fully
awake.

“Without those books, will there be
enough evidence against my uncle?”

“Peter Hodgson is proving to be a
willing and talkative informant. There will be enough to put the
old man away for the rest of his life.”

Sophy paused before the closed door of
Priya’s room. There was so much that she needed to think through.
Most urgent in her thoughts, she needed to shut down the sordid
business of supplying young women and children to the brothels of
London. And that wouldn’t be easy with those entries gone. Without
them, she had no clear view of the scope of the activity or the
villains involved.

A thought occurred to her.

“Shill," she said. “The name Shill was
included in every entry that I read. And I heard his name at the
pleasure gardens and at the warehouse on the Isle of Dogs. He must
be important.”

“I have no doubt that you are correct.
There has been no arrest of anyone with that name. But we’ll see
what our Mr. Hodgson has yet to tell us about this
Shill.”

Based on the little she’d discovered,
Sophy knew that another shipment of women was on its way to London
right now. She needed to be ready not only to intercept that
delivery and send the victims back, but to find a life for them so
they would not fall into a similar trap. It was a daunting
prospect.

“Mrs. Perkins tells me that Priya is
as devoted to you as anyone could ask.”

His comment brought a smile to Sophy’s
lips.

“Do you think your companion will
approve of me?”

“How could she not? You saved my life
and her life and the lives of countless others. You are a
hero.”

"How would she feel about me as your
husband?"