Page 46 of A Sham Engagement

Miss Douglas shook her head, wincing with the pain. “Near the cows. We went to see the cows as Master Edward requested, and he’s been such a good boy today. Not that he’s ever anything else.” More tears fell and Elenora thrust the delicate lace handkerchief Mama made her carry into her hands, quite inadequate for the job at hand.

“The cows were farther round than usual, as we were late. We normally find them near the gates into the park. I shouldn’t have let him go to look for them. I should have said no as it was getting dark, but he was so polite in the way he asked, and I’d promised him. I didn’t think we could come to any harm. There were shadows under all the trees. The shadows became men before I noticed. Two, maybe three, I think. One of them seized Edward, and the other two fought me off. Beat me with sticks as I tried to snatch Edward back. When I fell, one of them kicked me in the stomach.” Her hand went to her waist and she winced again.

“I could hear brave Edward shouting at them to leave me alone. He tried his best to save me, the brave boy. Then one of them hit me on the head with something.” Her fingers went to the cut on her forehead and the fast growing black eye. “When I came to my senses, I was alone in the dark, lying in the mud where they’d left me. Edward was gone.” She looked up at Jack, dabbing at her nose and eyes with the already soaked handkerchief. “Those dreadful men have taken Edward, my lord, and it’s all my fault. As soon as I could stand, I hurried home.”

Elenora patted her on the back. “It wasn’t your fault, Miss Douglas. You were a woman alone, and they were three against just you. No woman could have fought them off.”

Trust her to be ever practical when all Jack wanted to do was get hold of the woman and shake her and shout at her for not protecting his son. Even though he knew in his heart that it wasn’t her fault. It was his, for allowing Edward out with only a woman to keep him safe.

He paced to the window and back. “I’m going after him.”

Elenora looked up from her awkward nursing of Miss Douglas, who had bent forward again with her head between her knees. “Then I’m coming with you. But shouldn’t you send for the Bow Street Runners or the Watch? If three men have taken him, you can’t go after him on your own. I can help.”

What? Was the girl mad? Brave but mad. He shook his head. “You can’t. It might be dangerous. No, I take that back. It will be dangerous. God only knows what these men have snatched Edward for. You must stay here and look after Miss Douglas. She needs a woman’s touch.”

Elenora was on her feet again, her face set, eyes fiery. Anyone less likely to administer a gentle woman’s touch he had yet to meet. “And leave little Edward in the hands of evil kidnappers?”

She stamped her foot. “No. You can’t make me. I’m your fiancée, not your wife. You have no right to tell me what to do. Alcock, can you fetch my maid from the kitchen where she’s no doubt enjoying tea and cake with the servants to sit with Miss Douglas. No, better still, you take Miss Douglas down to the servants’ hall with you, and look after her down there. Tell my maid I’m putting her in her charge. I think she keeps smelling salts in her reticule. Make sure Miss Douglas gets a little brandy and some hot tea with lots of sugar in it. A steak for her eye. I’m going with Lord Broxbourne to find Edward.”

Jack stared at her, reluctant admiration filling him. What ferocious bravery she possessed, ready as she was to go out into the dangerous dark of a London night, on foot, with him. Who was he to say her nay? His momentary indecision evaporated. “Get your pelisse and bonnet then. Gloves too. It’s going to be cold.” He turned to Alcock, who was already helping Miss Douglas to her feet. “And send Thomas round to Bow Street magistrates immediately, and on to rouse the Watch. We need all the help we can get.”

Downstairs in the hallway, as Elenora pulled on her pelisse and the thick scarf he’d found her, he shrugged himself into his caped coat, the two inside pockets heavy with two of his pistols. Loaded, of course. With Alcock busy with the injured Miss Douglas, and Thomas already on his way round to Bow Street, no one was there to see them leave.

As the door closed behind them, Elenora realized at once just how dark the streets of London were at night. Of course, she’d been out at night before to attend those awful balls, and sometimes at home in Penworthy, where they had no benefit of street lighting. But now, even though the lamplighters had been round, the night seemed darker than it had ever done before, and much more threatening. Surely that must only be in her head?

A typical London fog, thick and all-enveloping, swirled about the glowing orbs of the lamps, making the far ends of the street vanish into misty darkness. She swallowed. Had she done the right thing in insisting she should accompany Jack to try to find Edward? Then she remembered the trusting look in the little boy’s eyes as he’d greeted her. And the fact that their game of soldiers might well have led to him being abroad at a time when he should have been safely tucked up in the nursery having his tea. Yes, she’d made the right decision. And she couldn’t possibly let Jack go out on his own into the night. She owed it to him to make sure he was all right as well, as though he and his son were now her responsibility. She wouldn’t think about how she might feel if something happened to either of them. That these men who had stolen Edward were dangerous was a foregone conclusion.

Jack reached out a strong hand and seized hers. She hung on tight, for once thankful for human contact. And it was Jack, after all. Somehow, contact with him had ceased to be so abhorrent in this emergency.

“This way,” Jack said, gripping his cane like a weapon in his free hand and setting off in a half run along the broad pavement. Heading north, he dashed between the pools of fog-shrouded light the lamps threw across the wide street. The widest street in London, to be exact. Something that leapt unbidden and randomly into Elenora’s head, as many things did, and had to be dismissed.

To either side of them, cozy lights glowed in the windows of the tall houses, as the inhabitants went about their business inside their warm, safe homes. Whereas out here, in the cold and darkness, danger came creeping out of every shadowy corner to pursue them on ghostly feet.

She had to run to keep up with Jack’s long strides, rather regretting the tightness of her stays which were not conducive to strenuous exercise. They passed Weymouth Street, opening up to left and right, and kept going. The next street, Devonshire, lay close to the end of Portland Place where the fenced grassland that made up Marylebone Park and her farms began. Jack turned right into it, hurrying her along until they came to Portland Road where he turned sharply left, heading north. “This way. I’ve been here myself once or twice with Edward to take him to see his precious cows. They belong to Kendal’s Farm. It’s up here.”

Ahead, the trees that marked the edge of the Park rose, darker than the night sky, looming higher than the houses they bordered. Dark and threatening, as what streetlights there had been died away. Only the moon, thin and feeble in the night sky, and partly obscured by a thin veil of fog, served to light their way as they left Portland Road behind.

Jack slowed to a walk, his head turning from right to left. Elenora copied him, hoping against hope that Edward would come running out of the gloom, battered and frightened but safe. He didn’t.

She clutched Jack’s hand freely now. If she were to let go, she might never find him again in the dark. She was reminded of some of the novels Augusta liked to read, the plots of which she had recounted to Frances and Elenora in all their gory details in the cozy familiarity of their beds at home in Penworthy. Well, not precisely gory in the literal sense, but quite sensational with some of the adventures the heroines got up to. How Augusta came by them, Elenora had no idea, but she had a secret hiding place where she kept them. Why was she even thinking about them when real danger threatened here? No, had already threatened and won.

Jack stopped in the graveled road. “This is the New Road west to Paddington. Here’s the fence line. I should have asked whether they went left or right to find the cows. Cows.” Jack’s voice dropped, sounding disgusted. “Bloody cows. How can something so mundane have led to this?”

The ground beside the wooden-railed fence was uneven and, in the dark, Elenora kept stumbling. What a good thing she had sturdy boots. A distant lowing carried on the cold night air. “Up ahead. Cows. I hear them.”

This only served to make Jack increase his speed, a dangerous thing in itself in such darkness. She stumbled along with him, more than once being kept upright just by the strength of his arm. Was that a timber yard to her right, the heaps of logs piled high behind a sturdy fence? This was countryside now, not London Town, something in which she felt more at home, even in the dark.

The cows soon came into view, a little group clustered near the fence line, their white markings showing up in the darkness like milky beacons. Their warm breath rose into the night air to make filmy statues that mingled with the thickening fog and vanished. Most of them were sitting down, as cows are wont to do at nights. How peaceful they looked, as though nothing bad had happened right under their noses.

Jack halted, staring at the cows. He released Elenora’s hand, and she took the opportunity to lean on the fence and get her breath back.

“Edward!” His voice boomed into the night. “Edward! Can you hear me?”

The lights still glowing in the streets now seemed far away and alien, cut off by the fog. Out here, in the remains of what had once been forest and now was farmland, Elenora felt she could have been back in Penworthy or even out on the Downs at night, which she and Matthew had once done and got into fearful trouble for. The city was a long way off. Was Edward lying here unconscious somewhere? Unseen?

One of the cows mooed gently, as though answering Jack’s shout, her voice a soft, reassuring sound that was thick with lies. They’d seen what had happened, but they could tell Elenora and Jack nothing.

Elenora pushed herself off the fence. She must look for clues. And they might be on the ground underfoot. A difficult undertaking in the darkness. Overhead, as though they’d heard her silent prayer, the fog thinned to reveal the moon again.