Chapter 27

 

 

 

Oliver arrived for breakfast, and to Claudia’s amazement, Gideon and Olivia said they would take their meal upstairs, allowing them to be alone. They no sooner departed when Claudia vaulted herself at Oliver, throwing her arms around his neck.

The restraints were off, and all lingering doubts were vanquished. These intense emotions were exhilarating, and Claudia would relish each and every one.

He kissed her passionately, and in return, Claudia cupped his cheeks and rained urgent kisses all over his handsome face.

Oliver laughed and, in placing his arms about her waist, spun her around. Then he plopped onto a chair, bringing Claudia down with him so she straddled his lap, facing him. She continued kissing him. She would never get enough.

“Marry me,” Oliver whispered in her ear.

Claudia stopped short and pulled back far enough to stare at him, incredulous at the suggestion yet overcome with complete bliss. “You are serious?”

“Completely. We already agreed we want a future together. Hear me out, for I have a suggestion: a quick, short wedding and a long honeymoon. Perhaps to Spain or my great uncle has a place in Scotland we could stay—or wherever you like. I mention the quick wedding because I want you so much, but I want our first time to be as a married couple. Does that sound strange to you?”

How utterly romantic. “No,” Claudia replied softly, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Not strange at all. But married? How do we make it work? I mean, interlocking our lives?”

“All we have to do is observe the examples of marital bliss around us. The Rakes and their partners make it work. So can we. If you wish to stay with The Galway Agency, do so. I would never ask you to be less than yourself. Perhaps I will act as The Sentinel a while longer. We are young and can do whatever we want, including getting married on our terms.”

Oliver sounded resolute and confident, and his words made sense to her. As she said last night, everything was possible.

“My family will adore you,” Oliver continued. “We can be married once my father and mother arrive, which will be in ten days or less. When we return from the long honeymoon, we can stay in London as long as you like. I have the Tensbridge country house in Kent. We can reside there whenever you wish. These are just some recommendations. I would never dictate our lives. I want a partnership in all things.”

It all sounded like a fairy tale, and hell’s bells, after everything she has gone through, Claudia deserved happiness with the man she loved. And a partnership? Exactly her thoughts on the matter. “And children?”

“There is no rush. As heir to the earldom, I should try and continue the line at some point and think of the fun we will have to do that very thing.” Oliver nuzzled her neck as she giggled.

When in hell had she ever giggled? She was utterly smitten and so in love she could not contain it.

But then, a dark thought entered her mind. “And what about Danaher?”

“Rett and I traveled to The Piggeries,” Oliver told her of them dressing up as laborers and their run-in with Shinwell and Danaher’s men. “I have been slowly comprehending that Danaher is best left to the police. I admit I had my blood up, ready to exact revenge for holding you captive. I was ready to tear the place apart, but Rett eventually made sense. You also said to leave it for the Met police.”

Claudia stroked his cheek. “It is too perilous to deal with him. Danaher is like a trapped rat in a corner. He knows the end is near and will lash out. We should stay out of Notting Dale.”

“Then it is all the more imperative we snatch Bryan out of Shinwell’s clutches and away from Notting Dale and the danger therein.”

Claudia kissed him and stood. “Agreed. I am famished. All this planning for a life together has made me ravenous.”

“Only for food?” Oliver teased.

She smiled. “For now. I agree about getting married as soon as your parents arrive. I am eager to meet them and begin our lives together—in all ways.”

“I am tempted to sweep the dishes off this table and make love to you right here,” he growled seductively.

“But we will wait,” Claudia said softly.

Oliver nodded. “Then, we wait.”

Claudia clapped her hands together as she strode over to the sideboard. She lifted the covers off the chafing dishes. “We still have much to learn about each other. For example, what breakfast foods do you prefer? Shirred, scrambled, or soft-boiled eggs? Or perhaps hard ones?”

Oliver jumped to his feet, came up behind her, and slipped his arms about her waist, bringing her close. He rolled his hips. “I know of something else that is hard.”

Claudia’s insides fluttered. Hell’s bells, can they even wait until the wedding? Not at this rate. “You are incorrigible. But I love it—and I love you.”

Oliver laid kisses along her neck. “I prefer scrambled, served with ham or bacon, preferably both. I don’t care for kippers. I am also partial to a mushroom and cheese omelet.”

“Good to know. Now, take your seat, and I will serve you. But not all the time, mind.”

Oliver laughed and sat at the table. “I would never expect you to. But I will treasure it when you do.”

“Pour our tea, love,” she called out.

After placing the piled-high plate in front of Oliver, Claudia selected scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, fresh bread, and marmalade.

After chatting and eating, they were nearly finished the meal when Hobson, the butler, entered the room. “My pardon, my lord, Miss Claudia. There is a Mr. Rett Wollstonecraft to see you. He says it is urgent.”

“Show him in, Hobson,” Claudia replied.

She exchanged a questioning look with Oliver. This could not be good news. Rett wouldn’t disturb them unless something happened—something serious.

Rett strode into the room, holding a note aloft. “It appears we waited too long fetching Bryan from his flat. Danaher has him and is demanding money for his release.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Oliver took the note from Rett.

 

 

“Luxury Tax Due: two thousand pounds,” Oliver read aloud as Rett sat beside him.

 

 

For the release of Bryan Wollstonecraft, now being held for taxes owed. Viscount Tensbridge, come alone with the money in a leather pouch, a mixture of pounds, guineas, florins, and shillings, and no harm will come to your brother. I will give you two days to gather the tax. Be at the Black Moon pub Thursday night at nine, and the exchange will be done. Call the police in, and I will slit your brother’s throat—the King of Notting Dale.

 

 

“King?” Claudia seethed. “Oh, that evil man.”

“We waited too long,” Oliver shook his head. “Damn the man.” He hesitated. “Does he know I am The Sentinel?”

“I doubt it. Danaher would have mentioned it in the note,” Rett replied. “Or would he?”

“Yes,” Claudia replied. “He would have mentioned it. He would have taunted you, luring you into his trap. You see, Danaher has done this before, holding wealthy young men for his own twisted version of compensation. He figures the toffs are using his facilities; they should pay a luxury tax. I am certain he does not know your identity.”

Oliver pounded his fist on the table as a wave of rage tore through him. Immediately sensing his distress, Claudia rose from her chair and embraced him. He slipped his arms about her waist, holding her tight. She was his anchor in the storm.

“So I take it things have progressed between you?” Rett asked.

Oliver exhaled, then released Claudia. He took her hand and kissed it. “Claudia has agreed to be my wife and partner. As soon as possible.”

“Then, my hearty congratulations. Truly, I am pleased to hear it. But first, Bryan. Correct?” Rett said.

“Yes. What do you propose? Claudia? What say you?” Oliver asked.

Claudia sat next to Oliver, still holding his hand. “It would be best to pay the money and recover your brother. As far as telling the police? That depends. We can take this legal opportunity to be rid of Danaher once and for all. It would involve Mitchell.”

Rett shook his head. “Mitchell told us in no uncertain terms he wanted no part of our schemes.”

“But this isn’t a scheme. It is a criminal act perpetrated by a known villain. Holding someone and soliciting payment is against the law, correct?” Claudia asked.

“It is,” Oliver answered. “This may work. Is Danaher holding Shinwell for ransom, I wonder?”

“Before we make any plans, I think we should head to Bryan’s flat immediately,” Rett suggested. “And see if Shinwell is about.”

After a flurry of activity and explaining to Olivia and Gideon where they were going, the three were off in the carriage. They arrived just in time, for Shinwell and a footman were loading his trunk and other cases onto a carriage. The front door hung by one hinge. No doubt when Coldbridge arrived and kicked in the door.

After assisting Claudia from their carriage, they ran toward the harried viscount.

“Where is Bryan?” Oliver shouted.

“How would I know?” Shinwell snapped in reply.

Rett and Oliver each took an arm and dragged Shinwell into the flat, with Claudia close behind. She shut the sitting room door on the footman and turned the key in the lock.

“Danaher has Bryan. I received a note demanding payment for a luxury tax. Tell me all you know about it, and I may just let you live,” Oliver seethed.

“I do not know any Danaher, nor do I know what you are talking about.”

This interrogation will take far too long. 

Claudia strode toward Shinwell as she lifted the hem of her gown to grab her knife from its holder. With a swift motion, she had the blade against the trembling viscount’s throat. “Tell us everything.”

“Tensbridge, call off your rabid doxy!” Shinwell cried.

Deftly, Claudia nicked his throat, and a trickle of blood stained his cravat.

“You had better tell us what you know and watch your mouth. Another insult toward any of us, and Claudia will slice and dice you for certain,” Oliver barked.

“We were nabbed near Bangor Street, sacks placed over our heads. We were taken before some man in a hooded cloak, and he said we owed a tax. He asked me about a copper named Simpson, then said I could leave because he knew my father and would collect from him. He kept Bryan there. I cannot tell you where this shack is because I was escorted out with the sack on my head. The hooded man asked about the earl—your father. I told him about you.”

Rett snorted. “What a coward you are.”

“Now release me. I know nothing more,” Shinwell demanded, though his voice shook.

Claudia looked to Oliver, who nodded. She released the viscount. “You should not repeat this conversation, or I will find you. Go home to your criminal father!” Claudia yelled after him.

After fumbling with the key and door, Shinwell ran to the carriage and departed.

“Danaher does not know about you being The Sentinel,” Rett offered. “But why ask about Mitchell?”

“That is concerning. We had better find Mitchell this very moment,” Oliver said. As Rett exited the room, Oliver gently grabbed Claudia’s arm, spun her about, and kissed her soundly. “Have I told you how magnificent you are?”

“May I never tire of hearing it.”

As Oliver took her hand, they sprinted toward the waiting carriage. Claudia never felt so alive.

And she was so blasted happy.