My Lord the Spy (25 page)

“I’m sorry, Clara. I can’t.”

“Now just one moment, Charles Baker,” Milly said standing in front of Charles’ slumped form. “You are not going to cast off your sister because you feel hard done by!”

“I think I have the right to feel that way!” Charles responded in surprise.

“In one respect yes, you probably do, but let’s not forget that, if you hadn’t been so foolish in the first place and encouraged that man when there must have been signs that he wasn’t quite the right sort, none of this would have happened.”

“So, it’s my fault now?” Charles asked in disbelief.

“No! What I’m saying is that all three of you have been at fault, but it comes down to that scoundrel, Joshua Shambles. Thankfully, he’s disappeared back into the hole he crawled out of, and now is the perfect time to pull together and limit the damage he did to this family.”

“I’m friends again with Clara!” Charles responded defensively.

“That is more to do with Clara’s constant forgiveness of your bad behaviour over these last few months. You behaved like an undisciplined child, storming out of the house, refusing to accompany us to balls and the like. Through all that Clara was steadfast in her belief that you were still her lovely brother, and it was just the influence of that man who was leading you astray. Let me tell you, I wasn’t so convinced that it was all Joshua Shambles’ doing!” Milly inwardly smiled at the expression of shock on Charles’ face.

“Added to that, when she had survived the worst night of her life, in which she legitimately thought you were both going to die; she was faced with your future father-in-law insisting he wanted nothing to do with this family. It was only her pleading your case and then Lord Chertsey assuring them of your character and your commitment that changed his mind. Just remember Charles, those two people are suffering because they are apart, both of them ensured that you aren’t going through what they are now!”

There was silence in the room at the end of Milly’s tirade. Both siblings were astonished that Milly was able to reprimand someone so well.

Milly looked at Clara and Charles, half tempted to give in to the feelings of mirth she felt at their astounded expressions, but she decided to continue instead. “There is only one thing to do about this to resolve it one way or another. I shall return shortly.”

The door closed firmly behind Milly as she left the room.

Both sat in silence for a few minutes before Charles let out a whoosh of air. “I feel as if I’ve been physically beaten by Milly! What on earth has got into her?”

“I’ve never seen her like this, I admit. What she said is true though,” Clara responded quietly.

“I pity any children she ever has; I don’t fancy being forced to go through that very often.”

“Well, as long as you remain a decent human being, I’m sure the usual, placid Milly will return, although she has been acting a little out of character since we left Dorset,” Clara admitted.

“Do you think she was shaken about that night?” Charles hated talking about the incident; it haunted his dreams; he tried to avoid mentioning it whenever possible.

“She must’ve been,” Clara said. “We aren’t exaggerating the matter; we really were in danger; she must realise it too.”

“I know. I just keep trying to block it out; I suppose it might not be as easy for everyone.”

“Could you never forgive me and Lord Chertsey for what we did?” Clara asked quietly.

“I just feel so stupid about everything, Clara, and this just goes to reinforce it.”

“I know, and I’m truly sorry,” Clara said sadly.

The door opened, and Milly walked into the room, struggling to carry something with her. “Right, here we go. Charles, this is the dress Clara wore the last time she visited Mrs Langtree’s. I suggest you find your mask because you are both visiting tonight,” Milly said firmly.

“Milly!” Clara gasped.

“What? It’s the only way to resolve this one way or another, Clara. You must go to him, and Charles can offer you protection until you can be alone with Lord Chertsey.”

Clara looked at Milly, her eyes filling with tears. “I can’t go, Milly.”

“Why not? Charles will forgive him, won’t you Charles?”

“It’s not that,” Clara said before Charles had chance to answer. “You heard what I heard. He visits Mrs Langtree’s regularly. There is only one reason why he would do that.”

“And what’s that?” Milly asked in genuine confusion.

“To visit the obliging ladies that reside there,” Clara said, her heart tearing.

Milly looked at her cousin, wanting to say something to comfort her, but not finding the words, but then Charles spoke. “He does, but only of a fashion.”

“What do you mean?” Clara asked.

“He mentioned something in his drunken stupor,” Charles started. If he wanted to keep his sister apart from Edmund it had been the perfect opportunity to hold his counsel, and she would believe the worst of Edmund for the rest of her days; but he could not. Milly’s words had rung true; there had been foolishness on all sides, and now was the chance to put it to one side and help his sister achieve the happiness he felt every time he thought of his beloved.

“If he was drunk, it could hardly be classed as proof of anything,” Clara said sadly. For a moment she had felt hope, but it was not to be.

“Have you never heard the saying, if you want to hear the truth ask a drunk?” Charles said with a smile. “He visits Mrs Langtree’s to talk to the girls and try and understand women. You’ve got him baffled, Clara, and he doesn’t know what to do to make things right. You’d best prepare yourself for a shock when you see him; he looked decidedly ill.”

“The foolish man!”

“Good! Now that’s sorted, it’s time to plan this evening’s visit!” Milly said with a smile.

Chapter 23

Entering Mrs Langtree’s for a second time, Clara felt very strange. She was being escorted by her brother, which made the whole situation even more surreal. Her mask was firmly in place, but Edmund’s words about recognising people seemed to be echoing through her mind.

Charles squeezed Clara’s hand as it was resting on his arm. “Relax,” he whispered.

“Easier said than done,” Clara whispered back.

“Let’s have a look around, and then we’ll find an empty room; I think we’d both benefit from a large drink.”

Clara nodded in agreement, her eyes looking everywhere, trying to make out the figure she was longing to see again.

There was no sign of Edmund in the public rooms, so Charles led his sister to a private room. He could sense that Clara was despondent at the fact they had not found Edmund, but he was determined not to give up quite so soon.

Once the door was closed, Charles moved across to the table and poured two large brandies. “Come, you need this to keep your spirits up.”

“I think we’re on a fool’s errand,” Clara said despondently.

“I have faith in him dear sister,” Charles said, removing his mask and raising an eyebrow at Clara.

Clara smiled a little and sipped the drink. The brandy burned as it made its way down her throat, but she needed the warmth, the whole situation was leaving her insides cold.

“I’m going to leave you in here; lock the door after me and don’t open it until I return,” Charles instructed.

Clara had a feeling of déjà vu and had to smile at the fact of role reversal between Charles and Edmund. “Knock five times in quick succession when you return,” Clara said.

“If he’s here, I’ll return with him; I promise,” Charles said, before drinking the remaining brandy in his glass and leaving the room.

Clara paced backwards and forwards across the floor. She had no idea of what to do even if he did follow Charles. How could she tell him that she had been wrong?

It seemed an eternity before the five knocks were heard on the door. Clara ran over to the door and quickly unlocked it, stepping to the side to let Charles in.

Charles was struggling to support the bulky form of Edmund. Clara closed and locked the door and stepped to the side. Charles let Edmund slump onto the large over-wide sofa that was in the room.

“Where was he?” Clara asked.

“The lady he was with, assures me that he comes in every night, tries to have a drunken conversation with one of the women and then drinks himself into a stupor. From the look of him, I think we should have arrived earlier,” Charles said with an apologetic smile.

“This is not a good sign,” Clara half-moaned.

Charles fixed his mask back on, it had been knocked to the side while he had been struggling with Edmund’s form. “Well, my dear, I’m going to leave you now.”

“What do you mean? You can’t leave me!” Clara exclaimed.

“He saw you home safely last time; he will this time. I can do no more; you can do nothing until he has slept off whatever he has been drinking. I suggest you lock the door behind me and settle down; I think it’s going to be a long night for you,” Charles said with a smile. He embraced Clara and whispered in her ear. “I hope the next time we meet I will be wishing you happy, and don’t forget: if he won’t listen to you, you could always scream compromise, and then he’d be forced to marry you!”

Clara laughed. “Be gone! I would never trick anyone into marriage!”

Charles became serious. “If you are discovered here, you will have no choice. Be careful Clara; I know I’m being flippant, but this is a serious business. If I wasn’t sure that you both loved each other deeply, I would never leave you in this place.”

“Thank you for your help,” Clara said with feeling.

“Good luck!” Charles said, before leaving the room.

Clara locked the door behind her brother and double-checked that the door was secure. She wrapped her arms around herself, slipping the key in her pocket. Everything had moved so fast since the conversation with Milly that she had only given the briefest thought to what she would say to Edmund when faced with him. She smiled; in all of the situations that she had run through, none involved a man unconscious with drink and being locked in a room in a den of iniquity. She just hoped that one day it would prove an amusing story for some descendant. Depending on the next few hours would determine whether she would be telling the story to her own children or as a disgraced maiden aunt to her nieces and nephews, if they were allowed anywhere near her.

A blanket lay over the back of the sofa; Clara closed her mind to what it was usually used for and covered Edmund’s body with it. She tried to make him more comfortable, but he was hard to move. She pushed at his shoulders, and his arms moved around her, pulling her towards him.

“Clara,” he muttered into her hair.

“Yes?” Clara whispered, her heart pounding.

“Clara,” he moaned, before falling back to sleep.

Clara groaned; she should have felt better; he had moaned her name, but instead she was frustrated to be trapped in his arms. She muttered to herself as she wriggled and pushed against the solid form. Why was she the one who had the drunken man as a possible lover? Other women had flowers and romance; she had a man who would think goodness-knows-what when he finally awoke. Charles was right, it was going to be a long night.

*

Edmund moved, and his head felt like it was going to explode. Last night had been particularly heavy because he had seen her leaving a house after a morning visit. She had been smiling, and it had almost ripped him in two. She had forgotten him, leaving him behind in a dark place.

He did not remember arriving at Mrs Langtree’s, although he knew where he was. He returned to this place every night as if he knew here he could block out the pain.

It was some time before he was able to open his eyes and, even then, the room hardly came into focus. He saw the woman’s form on the chair; it was unusual for anyone to stay with him when he had lost consciousness; she had probably decided that he would pay her for all the hours he had been asleep.

She moved and went out of his line of sight. He tried to follow her, but his head hurt too much. She returned a few moments later, a wet cloth in her hand.

“This will help the headache,” she said softly, before placing the cool cloth across his forehead.

Edmund leaned back, he was going insane; Clara was talking to him now. He closed his eyes again and drifted back off to sleep.

Clara replaced the cloth every time it warmed up, but Edmund slept on. Daylight was beginning to peep through the night sky, and worry was furrowing Clara’s brow. She had no idea if the rooms had to be emptied at a certain time. She had no money and no idea if Edmund had arrived in his carriage or on foot. Suddenly the plan that had seemed so easy now seemed foolish in the extreme.

Eventually Edmund woke once more. The throbbing had almost gone, just replaced with a dull ache behind his eyes. He blinked his eyes open and was once again faced with the young woman sitting in the chair opposite. This time he was able to focus on her and almost jumped up from his supine position. He groaned as everything inside his head complained at the sudden movement.

“Clara? What the devil are you doing here?” Edmund croaked.

“I could ask you the same question, I suppose,” Clara responded tartly, although her heart had leapt at the sound of her given name on his lips. It had not sounded quite the same when he was in a drunken heap.