The Accidental Abduction (23 page)

But he did not, and that silence followed Harry all the way through the gardens, and out the back gate.

Oh, Leannah,
he thought as he let the latch fall closed.
I hope it's gone better for you. It must have gone better.

Because in that moment, he could not imagine how anything could have gone worse.

T
he groomsman from the Colonnade pulled Rumor and Gossip up gently in front of the rented house in Byswater Street. It was not, however, any member of Leannah's family who loitered near the area railing to greet them.

Leannah recognized the thin man by his crooked neck and squinting gaze. His name was Dawes, and he worked for the livery stable where they kept Gossip and Rumor, as well as Bonaparte.

“Well, well, she decided to return after all,” Dawes remarked as he sauntered toward the carriage. “I hope you're not planning to put those two up at Mr. Hughes's?”

“Have a care, fellow.” The driver held up the whip. “You'll use respect when addressing the lady.”

“So I will, so I will, squire.” Dawes tugged his forelock a little too showily. “That is if the lady uses some respect with me and Mr. Hughes, and agrees to pay the bill for the housing and feeding of this very fine team, not to mention one saddle horse that eats enough for ten, if I may be frank.”

“It's all right,” said Leannah to the driver. “This man is Mr. Dawes, and he's right. We owe his employer money.” She took a deep breath and attempted to assume a brisk air. “If you will send your bill to the attention of Mrs. Rayburn at the Colonnade, it will be settled immediately.”

Very deliberately, Dawes leaned over the gutter and spat. “Mrs.
Rayburn
? Can we wish you happy, then?”

“If you like. You will be paid in any case,” she said this with what she hoped was a careless tone. The house door had opened, and Genny stood watching from the threshold. Even at this distance, Leannah could see the worry written across her face. She made herself continue speaking to the driver. “Dawes will show you to the stables. You may give Mr. Hughes this on account.” She handed over one of Harry's guineas. “And for your trouble,” she added a shilling. She felt Dawes watching her. His eyes trailed over her old dress. At least she had a bonnet now, and gloves, although they were strained at the seams because of her bandages. Despite these improvements, she knew exactly what he was thinking about where the money she held out must have come from, and she cringed inwardly.

“Very good, ma'am.” The driver touched his hat brim to her as he accepted the coins and then moved to position the step so she could get down from the carriage. “When I've seen to the horses, I'll be back to find out if there's anything more you require.”

“Thank you.” She'd seen for herself the man was more than capable of handling her team as he drove the barouche through the streets. So, it was with only a small tremor of concern she turned away to mount the steps to the door Genny held open.

Genny drew her at once into the dim hallway. There, she threw her arms around Leannah's shoulders and held her tightly. Leannah returned her sister's embrace for a long moment, as if she needed to reassure herself that the welcome was genuine, and her sister still real.

“You look very well,” said Genny when they were finally able to pull away from each other. She spoke the words a little more judiciously than Leannah would have liked, but at least she meant them. That would be enough for now.

“You're exaggerating,” Leannah chose to respond as if she heard nothing but the compliment. “I look like I've been ridden hard and put away wet.”

Which, considering the passionate night she'd enjoyed in Harry's arms was an entirely inappropriate metaphor to choose. Leannah felt her blush raise immediately, and she could do nothing at all about it.

Genny quirked an inquiring brow, which deepened Leannah's blush, but also eased her worries. If anything were truly wrong in the house, her sister's less-than-ladylike sense of humor would not be in evidence now.

Then, over Genny's shoulder, Leannah saw Mrs. Falwell peering anxiously through the kitchen door. “We'll speak later, Mrs. Falwell,” she said, and the woman all but fled. She sighed. What they'd speak about, she did not know. She should be very angry with her. She should even consider dismissing her outright, but there were so many other things that needed to be sorted out first.

Footsteps thundered overhead.

“Lea!” Jeremy cried as he barreled down the stairs and up the narrow hall. “Is it true? Is it really?”

“Is what true?” asked Leannah as her younger brother skidded to a halt in front of her. Of them all, Jeremy had the reddest hair, and the most freckles. Although he had only just turned twelve, it would not be too much longer before Jeremy was able to look her, or at least Genny, right in the eye.

“Tommy Hargrave says his sister said that you got kidnapped last night by a highwayman and taken to Gretna Green and married at pistol point! I told him he was a liar because it's three hundred miles to Gretna and no highwayman would have more than one horse, and he said it must have been a whole gang plotting marrying you for your money and I said you hadn't got any and he said it was jewels and I said . . .”

“Oh, good heavens!” Leannah grabbed her brother's arm and hurried him back up to the third floor, with Genny at her heels. She pushed Jeremy into his room and slammed the door shut. “What made you think such a ridiculous story could possibly be true?”

“Where did you hear any of this?” demanded Genny at almost the same moment.

“I told you.” Jeremy dropped onto his narrow, wood-framed bed, and bounced. “It was Tommy Hargrave. But were you abducted? Did you get the pistol away from him and escape? You had Gossip and Rumor, so you should have been able to outrun any highwayman's nag. I wish I could have seen the chase. I would have gone after you, but Bishop hid my saddle and . . .”

“Jeremy, hush!” Her head had begun to spin. Leannah pressed her fingers to her temples to try to slow it.

“And stop bouncing!” added Genny for good measure.

Jeremy, for a wonder, both hushed and stilled, giving Leannah a moment to draw in several deep, shuddering breaths. “You know perfectly well you are spouting nonsense. There was no highwayman and no pistol.”

“But Tommy . . .”

“Jeremy, no one was abducted.” She paused. “No one in this family, at any rate.”

“Then where'd you get that ring?” Jeremy jabbed a finger at the diamond flashing on Leannah's hand. “Did he steal it? Did he force you to marry him?”

“No!” cried Leannah and Genny together.

“Then did he force Genny . . .”

“No one was forced into anything! It was my choice to marry!”

As Leannah's words rang through the room, Jeremy leaned back on his pillow, folded his arms behind his head and put on an entirely self-satisfied smile.

Genny's jaw dropped. “You little
brat.
You made up that story about Tommy Hargrave!”

Jeremy shrugged. “It was the only way I'd get you to tell me anything. You were so busy hushing me and saying nothing had happened.” He grinned up at them. “But I knew if I poured out enough outrages, you'd tell the truth.” He paused again. “By the way, Tommy Hargrave did say Genny eloped. I knocked him down.”

Leannah groped for the stool by Jeremy's battered writing desk, and sat down heavily. “That was wrong of you.”

“Was not. You're my sister, and he's got no business talking about you.”

“All right, Jeremy, all right.” She waved her hand. “Yes, I'm married. His name is Harry Rayburn, and I am now Mrs. Rayburn. At the moment, that's all there is to the story.”

“Is not.”

“If you're going to interrogate me, Jeremy, you will at least use proper grammar.”

Her brother rolled his eyes. “It is not, Sister dear. I am quite certain there is much more to this tale than you have said so far. For example, did . . .”

Leannah did not wait for him to finish. “Does Father know?”

Jeremy pushed himself up onto his elbows, his face suddenly serious. As difficult as Father's long illness had been for Leannah and Genny, it had been worse for Jeremy. He was young now, but he was growing fast. He had a quick mind and an engaging air. He also had his father who sat trembling in his study, afraid to go out of doors and entirely unable to aid or advise a youth who must soon find his own way in the world of men.

“I don't think he does know,” Jeremy said. “Aunt's been sitting with him the whole time, so I can't really tell.” He paused and Leannah's breath caught in her throat at the set of his jaw and the clarity of his gaze. He looked like their father, back in the very beginning, before she understood how his determination to make them rich kept their lives turning around in a vicious circle.

“Will your getting married fix things?” asked Jeremy.

“Of course it will,” said Genny stoutly. “Hasn't Lea always fixed things whenever we've been in trouble?”

That might be true, but trouble kept coming back. Jeremy understood this as well as any of them, and that understanding showed in the way his doubtful gaze did not waver in the least.

“I don't know,” Leannah sighed. “But it might.”

“You shouldn't have to keep getting married to fix things. It's . . . it's . . . unseemly. When I come into my own, you'll never have to again. I'll take care of us all.”

Leannah touched her brother's shoulder. She thought to hug him, but he was on his dignity now and she didn't want to let him know she still saw him as a little boy. “I know you will, Jeremy. But right now, we must all hang together as best we can.” She took Genny's hand, making a circle of the three of them. “That means taking care of each other, and making sure as much of this as possible stays in the family, all right?” Her siblings nodded solemnly, and Leannah felt a twinge beneath her ribs. “It also means no more knocking down the other boys.” She shook Jeremy's shoulder and tried to speak lightly. “If anyone asks you what happened, you say your sister got married quietly, and there's nothing more to it than that. Getting into fights will just make people believe the worst.”

The look on Jeremy's face all but broke her heart. She'd lost count of the number of times she'd delivered similar instructions: Stay quiet. Don't fan the flames of rumor. Keep up appearances. Hide the truth behind closed doors.

It was no wonder the boy was turning devious. She'd been teaching him to lie since he could talk.

“All right, I won't do it again,” muttered Jeremy, but that mercenary gleam showed in his Morehouse green eyes. “But only if you tell me what's really going on.”

“And now it's blackmail!” Genny threw up her hands.

“Well, what am I supposed to do?
You
won't tell me anything.”

Leannah put up her hands to forestall what was in danger of becoming a real quarrel.

“Jeremy, Genny, stop. I will tell you everything I can, as soon as I can. That's a promise. Just now, however, I have to go speak with Father.”

“Of course. We'll wait here.” Genny said this directly to Jeremy.

Leannah left the room before she had to acknowledge the way Jeremy muttered, “Will not.”

The stairs creaked underfoot as Leannah descended. With each step, dread rose around her. When she was with Harry, everything had seemed new. In his arms, she had found a dream of the future, and for once that future was clear and uncluttered.

But could she hold on to that dream? Here in the dingy rented house, where her troubles seemed to whisper to her from the very walls, Leannah was no longer sure. She'd dreamed of new beginnings, for her siblings and for herself before. But they'd started over so many times, and they had always ended up in the same place—scrambling, and hiding.

If that happened this time, it was Harry she'd drag down into trouble with them, just as she had dragged Elias.

No,
she told herself sternly.
I was just a girl with Elias. I was blind and trying to believe. I will not let Harry be hurt, whatever happens.

“Lea.”

Leannah jumped. She'd been so lost in her thoughts she hadn't heard Genny following her down the stairs.

“I'm sorry,” said her sister. “I know I told you I'd wait, but I didn't want to say this in front of Jeremy. Is everything . . . all right? With Mr. Rayburn? And, well, being married?”

“Yes,” Leannah replied at once. “Better than I could have believed.”

This did not seem to reassure Genny much. “You've set up at the Colonnade? That's quite expensive.”

Leannah frowned. Her sister was not given to murmuring about such matters. “Genny, what's wrong?”

“It's just me fretting over nothing, I'm sure.” The forced cheerfulness of this statement was painfully obvious. “But you should perhaps know I overheard Bishop and Mrs. Falwell talking about the bills. The grocer's not going to extend us any more credit.”

“Oh. Well. I'll go talk with him.” She thought about the money Harry'd given her. She hadn't counted it, but surely there was enough there to renew the grocer's good faith.