Wicked Promise (34 page)

It was there, she was now certain. Aunt Sophie was correct. Nicholas might not love her, not yet. But he cared for her greatly and he needed her.

She wasn't about to abandon him.

She squeezed her eyes closed and took a steadying breath, resting the paper back on top of the stack of newsprint that sat in front of her. The
Public Advertiser
, the
Whitehall Eve¬ning Post
, the
Daily Gazetteer
—even the
North Briton
—all were full of the brutal murder of the Countess of Ravenworth and all were slanted the same—the killer was none other than the lady's husband—former convicted murderer Nicholas Warring.

She wiped away a trace of wetness, hoping her aunt hadn't noticed. Lately, it seemed, she had been crying far too often.

"They're going to hang him, Aunt Sophie. They're going to find him guilty on their skimpy bit of evidence and they are going to hang him."

Her aunt's plump hand reached out to cover hers where it trembled slightly in her lap. "You mustn't lose hope, my dear. You can't be certain what will happen. Sir Reginald holds a great deal of hope, and you have yet to hear from Mr. Moody and Mr. Swann. Perhaps in their foray last night they found something that might be useful."

She had asked for their help two nights ago and, as she had known they would, they had agreed.

"We have to find out who killed Rachael Warring," she had told them as they enjoyed a glass of Nick's expensive French brandy she had insisted they drink. "Most likely it is Oliver Hampton or the Viscount Kendall. If it is, he is very likely in possession of the Ravenworth rubies."

"Aye," Elias said. "Whatever blighter took 'em must be the one what kilt 'er."

Theo grinned. "If you're askin' me to have a look-see in the gentlemen's town houses, I'll be more than happy to oblige. Been a while since I used me skills, but 'tisn't some- thin' a man forgets."

"It's dangerous. If they catch you, you'll wind up in prison along with Nick. I wouldn't ask if I could think of any other way."

"Ye mustn't worry," Elias said. "For a time, me and Theo was the best there was—even better than Light-fingered Jack. We only made the one mistake. Cost us seven years, but we learnt our lesson. Wouldn't be thievin' again if it weren't for our Nick."

Our Nick
. They had done it for Nicholas, risked themselves and still turned up nothing.

Elizabeth drew in a shuddering breath and. turned back to her aunt. "They searched both men's houses but they didn't find a thing. At least not anything that could help prove Nich¬olas's innocence."

Aunt Sophie wrapped the last piece of string she had col¬lected around the thick ball in her lap and set it away. "Are they certain they overlooked nothing?"

"They were able to open the safe in Lord Bascomb's town house. They found jewelry and a great deal of money, but the rubies weren't there. Nothing at Lord Kendall's, either."

Elizabeth's hands dug into her skirt. "I know it's Bascomb. In my heart, I know it is he." She stood up from the sofa, walked over to the hearth and stared down into the flames, her mind turning to thoughts of Nicholas.
I care for you, but I don't love you. Marry Endicott
. Though she tried to convince herself he hadn't really meant what he had said, there was no way to be certain. An ember hissed against the grate. The sound made her shiver.

"Bascomb has done this to get Nicholas out of the way," she said, "and to avenge the death of his brother."

"I vow I have grown to hate that man," Sophie said.

"He is obsessed with power, determined to have anything that is forbidden him."

Aunt Sophie frowned. "Surely there is something we can do."

A light knock sounded and Elizabeth marched toward the drawing room doors. "There is something we can do—some¬thing we must do—if we are to keep Lord Ravenworth from hanging." She slid open the heavy wooden panels and Elias and Theo walked in.

"Evenin', miss."

She smiled, nervous yet filled with determination. "Thank you both for coming. As a matter of fact, thank you for risking yourselves as you have these past two nights, even if it did no good."

"Nick would 'ave done the same," Elias said. "I owe 'im me life and I ain't likely to forget it."

"He give me a job when no one else would," Theo added. "I'd be back to thievin' if it hadn't been for him."

Another voice sounded from behind them, a woman's voice, clear and strong. "Our Nick, 'e took me and the others in, give us all a 'ome. We'd do anything to 'elp 'im."

It appeared that Mercy Brown had also arrived in the draw¬ing room. It heartened her, the loyalty of Nicholas's friends. She wondered if he still counted her among them.

She motioned to Elias, who firmly closed the door. "All right, then." Crossing to the sofa, she reached down to the table and picked up one of the papers. "I know none of you can read, so I'll tell you what these say. They say that the Earl of Ravenworth has murdered his wife. They state it as if it is fact. They encourage that belief because it sells papers. Be¬cause it is in print, the public will believe it, too. Lord Rav¬enworth will be tried in the House of Lords, and he'll be convicted. His peers will believe he is guilty, just like every¬one else."

"What about that fancy barrister?" Mercy asked. "Why can't 'e do somethin' to 'elp?"

"I'm sure Sir Reginald is doing his best. But the fact remains the evidence is completely against Lord Ravenworth. The public believes he is guilty. There isn't the slightest doubt that Nicholas will hang." She forced herself to say it out loud, though it made her stomach roll.

Silence fell over the room. Elizabeth searched each down¬cast face. The only person notably missing was Lady Mar¬garet. Maggie wasn't up to this. She was barely able to cope with the gossip. What Elizabeth had in mind was going to make the gossip far worse, but there was no other choice— not if Nicholas were to live.

"Ye brung us 'ere for a reason." Elias's voice broke into the silence. "Get to it."

Elizabeth took a calming breath, searching for just the right words. "The way I see it there is only one way to save Nick. We have to find the real killer and prove Lord Ravenworth's innocence, or Nicholas must flee the country. Nick hates being in prison. I don't think he'll allow Sir Reginald to delay the trial. That means—"

"You're sayin' we ain't got much time," Elias cut in.

"I'm saying the trial may start as early as next week. Once it begins, they'll tighten security around Nick's cell. There'll be no way for him to escape."

Theo's blond head came up. "Escape? Are ye sayin' what I think ye are, miss?"

Elizabeth steeled herself. It was asking so much and yet she believed it was the only chance Nicholas had. "I'm saying we have to get his lordship out of Newgate prison."

The group fell silent. Aunt Sophie fanned herself with her fat ball of string.

Theo was frowning. His eyes fixed on her face. "I been there, miss. Gettin' outta a place like that won't be easy."

"No, it won't. But I have a plan I think might work. The problem is I'll need your help."

Elias's grin was slow in coming, but in time it bloomed full force. "The lass's right. We gotta bust 'im outta there. Shoulda' thought of it meself."

Theo laughed. "Right ye are, Elias. Count me in."

"And me," Mercy said. " 'E'll need a place to stay once ye 'ave 'im safe. I've a cousin what's got 'imself a tavern right 'ere in the city. We can 'ide 'im right under their noses."

Hope swelled inside her. Elizabeth felt a pang of affection for the small, loyal group of Nicholas's friends. "Thank you. You'll never know how much I appreciate your help."

She wondered what Nicholas would say when they appeared inside his cell. Her heart squeezed to think what he might do when he saw her. What if he truly wanted her to marry some¬one else? What if he had tired of her as he had a dozen other women? What if the simple fact was he wanted her gone from his life as he had said?

Elizabeth forced the painful thoughts away. In truth, it didn't really matter. She loved Nicholas Warring and she meant to help him. The rest would be up to him.

Lying on the corn-husk mattress in his cell, Nick stared up at the heavy oak planks that formed the floor of the cell above him. It was early in the evening, barely dark outside. Yet he was so very tired. He slept only a few short hours each night. The relief of blessed unconsciousness, of a deep relaxing slumber, remained elusive as it did now.

Instead, he stared at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the stones closing in, the unbearable loneliness pressing into his chest, wearing at his soul.

He shifted on the pallet, trying in vain to get comfortable, thinking of Elizabeth, missing her with each beat of his heart. He remembered the peaceful days they had shared in the gar¬den, the moments of laughter, the nights of incredible passion. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine the taste of her lips, the fragrance of her hair, the smoothness of her skin. He re¬membered the glint of mischief that sometimes entered her eyes and wished he could coax that lpok from her again.

Instead, he lay on his cold, hard pallet, aching for her, knowing he might never see her again, and cursing himself for a fool.

He should have known this would happen. He should have known he'd be blamed for Rachael's murder. His last bitter taste of English justice had lasted seven long years. The instant he had learned of his wife's death, he should have known he would be the one to pay—whether he was guilty or not.

He should have guessed this would happen—and he should have ran.

Nick closed his eyes, fighting to overcome the feeling of hopeless that swept over him, the crushing sense of despair. He was a rich man, his money well protected. He could have left England at the first sign of trouble. He could have taken Elizabeth with him, married her, and started a new life some¬where else. Instead he had waited, succumbing to his resur¬rected sense of honor, believing his name would be cleared.

His fantasy had cost him Elizabeth. She was lost to him forever—pushed by his own machinations into the arms of another man. In truth it didn't matter if they hanged him. He no longer cared if he lived or died.

Nick leaned his head against the wall, ignoring the feel of the hard, rough stone, the cold that seeped into his bones. Weariness invaded him, made him lethargic. His need for Eliz¬abeth grew like a living thing, blossoming inside him. Eliza¬beth. He wondered where she was. He wondered if she ached for him as he ached for her, or if his callous treatment had turned her love to hate.

He wondered if she was with David Endicott, and prayed that wherever she was she was safe.

Two days passed before the plan was actually completed. Eliz¬abeth's original idea still formed the core, but parts of it had been discarded, plucked full of holes by Elias and the others, who'd had far more experience in places like Newgate Prison.

One detail remained—which of them would stay behind in the cell, allowing Nicholas to take that person's place and escape.

"I tell you it should be me," Elizabeth argued. "If he's dressed as a woman, they'll never suspect it is he."

"That's right," Elias agreed, "and they won't believe for a minute ye didn't 'elp 'im escape. They'll lock ye up in Nick's place and ye won't be gettin' out."

"Well, we certainly can't leave you or Theo behind and we can't leave Mercy there, either. You've all been arrested be¬fore—besides, you've your own parts to play."

A heavy sigh whispered into the room, and all four heads swiveled toward the sound. ''Well, then, I suspect that leaves only me." Aunt Sophie hauled herself up from the sofa. "They will certainly not suspect that I am involved in plan¬ning his lordship's escape—I'm nothing but a dotty old lady. Lord Ravenworth may look a bit silly, posing as an overweight old woman, but aside from that, 'tis the only solution that makes any sense to me."

Elizabeth stared in stunned disbelief. She had debated whether to tell her aunt their plans but she trusted Aunt So¬phie, and she thought, since the attempt would undoubtedly be dangerous, it was only fair her closest relative know what was going to occur.

This, however, she had not expected. "I appreciate your offer of assistance, Aunt Sophie—we all do. It is a very cou¬rageous thing for you to do. Unfortunately, I couldn't possibly allow you to help us. If something went wrong, I would never forgive myself."

Elizabeth glanced at Elias, looking for agreement, but his face remained carefully blank. She looked at Theo, who seemed to be digesting the notion, then at Mercy, whose lips curved into a smile.

" 'Twould work," Mercy said. "They'd never believe Mrs. Crabbe would be part of somethin' like this."

Elizabeth clamped down on her fear. "But we can't possi¬bly involve my aunt in this! What if something went wrong? What if—"

"If something goes wrong," Aunt Sophie broke in, "we shall all of us be in a great deal of trouble. Instead, we shall simply have to make certain that it does not."

"God's eyes," Theo said. "I'm beginnin' to believe we can do it."

"Of course we can," Mercy said. "And far better if Mrs. Crabbe is willing to 'elp."

"Then it's settled." Aunt Sophie's round face lit with sat¬isfaction. Elizabeth wasn't quite certain how she had been so easily maneuvered but it was obvious she had been.

"Do we send 'is lordship word?" Mercy asked.

Elizabeth pondered the notion. On the surface it would seem the logical course. Instead she shook her head. "If we do, there is every chance Nicholas will try to stop us. Once we are there, he'll have no choice but to come with us or jeop¬ardize all of our lives."

"So be it," Elias said, a determined glint in his eyes.

"So be it," the rest of them said, nearly in unison. Elizabeth hoped they worked half so well together when they broke into the prison.

Maggie sat alone in front of the fire in the drawing room of her brother's town house. The crackle of embers cut through the silence in the house. Summer had waned. A chill wind swept down from the cold North Sea and a slight fog had begun to creep in. The polished wooden floor creaked in the hall.