Why did I allow you to talk me into this?” Luke asked, as much to him self as to Meg. They rode in the carriage to Lady Crewe’s costume party and the plan was for Meg to alight a street ahead in order to arrive separately from them.
“You have your dagger?”
Meg padded a place where it was tucked inside her bodice.
“And the whistle?”
“I am prepared for battle, your Grace,” she teased.
Emitting a long-suffering sigh, he relented. “I admit your disguise it is quite good.”
“Thank you. Susie is a very adept maid. I would not have thought to disguise my hair with kohl.”
“The mask shields the colour of your eyes better than I had hoped,” Lady Laurence added.
“Promise me you will not confront your uncle alone.” Luke did not approve of this plan whatsoever.
“I will do my best.” She did not promise, Luke noticed, but truly he could not hope for more when he could not sit in her pocket without giving her identity away.
He would have preferred to have Philip shadow her, but Philip thought it more pressing to see if he could free Lady Amelia from Hawthorne House while he was occupied at the party. Luke fully intended to be seen as himself so no one could suspect him if Amelia went missing.
The carriage stopped a street before the line of carriages and Meg quietly slipped out. She would be followed closely by a footman, but Luke was still uneasy. She would reach the party much faster on foot than they would in the carriage.
By the time Luke and his mother climbed the steps to Crewe House, there was already a great crush of people and he could not see Meg.
Since it was a costumed party, there were no arrival announcements. Most disguises were anything but, his own Henry VIII no true disguise. Luke nevertheless consoled himself with the reflection that no one knew to look for Meg in the first place. His mind was still full of the beautiful picture she had presented. She had taken liberties with the famous Queen of Egypt’s Cleopatra costume by fashioning a blue linen, tube-style dress and placing bangles on her arms. The entire ensemble was complemented by leather-strapped sandals. Her maid had darkened her hair, then topped it with a gold headdress with a cobra at the centre, while a narrow black mask was the final touch to conceal her identity and add a hint of the exotic. Cleopatra’s power over men was legendary, and Luke now understood why. In that costume, Meg had had a similar effect on him.
Quickly scanning the crowd for his Egyptian queen, as well as for Hawthorne and La Glacier, he detected none of them.
“You cannot just stand there glaring at everyone, Luke,” his mother scolded. “Since you did not bother to disguise yourself, you will have to mingle.”
She was right, but he was in no mood to be congenial. Moving forward, he greeted a shepherdess and her sheep; a short, plump Queen Elizabeth and a Viking with very hairy legs.
Spying Lady Crewe as an apropos Mother Goose, he decided to ask her if she knew where the parties he sought might be.
“You kept your word,” she said approvingly.
“Have I ever not?” He raised his brows and bowed over her hand.
“I know it is not your preferred gathering, but I am glad you came.”
“Congratulations, it is quite a crush,” he said as he scanned the throng.
“Who are you looking for, your Grace? Perhaps I can be of assistance.”
“I had some business with Hawthorne. I heard he might be here.”
“If so, I have yet to see him. The only person I cannot identify is the Cleopatra. She indicated a marble column across the room, where Meg stood alone. How he would like to go to her! A Roman centurion approached her and asked her for a dance, Luke presumed, for she shook her head. He almost sagged with relief. It was ridiculous, this notion of possessiveness he felt, but until they were safely married, he was not convinced she would not try to run away.
Despite himself, he began to make his way closer. Fighting the press of bodies caused Luke to grow warmer and more claustrophobic by the moment. Why had he agreed to come? He could not adequately protect Meg here, and he loathed crowds.
Alas, there were blessings and curses in not masking his identity.
“Excuse me, your Grace…”
“Pity about the injury, your Grace…”
“Have you been introduced to my daughter, your Grace?”
He gave a polite answer, the daughter in question being of advanced years with a tendency to smack her lips when she spoke. Had they not seen the engagement notice in the paper? It was supposed to deter the matchmakers, yet they only seemed more desperate. He was tempted to yell ‘fire’ in an effort to clear a path, but by the time he finally escaped Lady Middleburg’s clutches, Meg was nowhere to be seen.
Trying not to panic, he was frankly rude to several people who tried to stop him. He pushed his way past groups of bewigged and masked revellers, narrowly avoiding a glass of punch, before he spied her on the garden terrace, speaking to a knight.
Stopping himself before he made a scene, he went out of another door at the far end, trying to stay out of her companion’s sight. If it was Hawthorne, where was his famous mistress? Who else would Meg have gone alone onto the terrace with?
He strained his ears to hear, but they were speaking quietly.
“’Tis a clever disguise, niece.”
“I needed to speak to you about my sister.”
“You forfeited that right,” he growled.
“For refusing to marry the man of your choice? How dare you drug me and kidnap me in order to have your way!”
“A good girl would have cooperated. Your sister is a very good girl.” He was taunting her, and Luke had to restrain himself from ridding the earth of the man here and now.
“You would not dare!” Meg stood looking up at the man who stood a full foot taller.
“You little fool, of course I would. I already had plans for the money Thurgood gave me for you. He wanted to marry a title very, very badly. Fortunately, I have a spare to oblige.”
“You will not get away with this!”
“I already have, my dear.” He reached out and chucked her under the chin like an indulgent a child.
Luke thought Hawthorne was bluffing, but he could not be certain.
Her uncle laughed, a devilish sound, and walked away, leaving Meg looking defeated.
When Luke was sure Hawthorne was gone, he went to her side. She collapsed into his arms and sobbed.
“We must go after them!”
“I will leave word for my mother. I am certain she may seek a ride with one of her friends, or borrow Lady Crewe’s carriage.” He led her through the milling horde to the entrance where latecomers were still filing in. He found his driver himself, so there was no mistake, and requested him to meet them at Waverley Place as quickly as possible. They began to walk, since it would be some time before the carriage was able to manoeuvre through the traffic.
“Do not lose heart. We will not give up.”
“I hope Captain Elliott finds her before it is too late. Do you think he has taken her to Portsmouth?”
“I should think Thurgood would want to ensure marriage before sailing, this time. If the Archbishop of Canterbury would not grant him a special licence, you would have to try one of the others.”
“York? Winchester? Durham?”
“Who can tell? I prefer to find Philip and see if he has discovered anything before we chase all over England. By that point, it could be too late.”
Meg was holding her composure well, though he knew it must be difficult. Luke assumed that this was a distraction from Hawthorne’s greater purpose, but he had no proof nor clue of what it was.
Entering the house, Luke started barking orders as if he had never left the battlefield. He desperately wished he had Tobin and the other brethren here to help him fight Hawthorne. One thing was clear, he had to be defeated once and for all.
Meg had to do something. She had waited, and to what purpose? Her vile uncle had simply traded Amelia for her.
Nothing mattered but finding her sister. They would escape somewhere, no matter what happened, and hide from the world if necessary. She went to her chamber and Susie was there, waiting to help her from her costume. As she changed her clothing, she did her best to think with a clear mind, something she had not had the luxury of when she had found herself on board a ship and leaving harbour. Trusting Luke would discover Thurgood’s whereabouts quickly, she knew she must be prepared to act. It might even be necessary to kill Thurgood to get to her sister. Was she prepared to do such a thing? Only as a last resort, she answered truthfully. She fingered the hilt of the dagger Luke had given her. Thurgood was a large man and would not be easily overcome, so she would have to make sure she caught him unawares.
So many thoughts went through her mind. Where had he taken Amelia? When had they left? Was she afraid? Of course she was. Her uncle must have threatened her to gain her compliance.
Meg made an inarticulate sound, protesting her uncle’s coercion of Amelia.
“I cannot remove the black from your hair without washing it, my lady,” Susie said apologetically.
“Oh.” Meg returned to the present with a jolt to find the maid standing beside her with the water jug, soap and a towel. “Leave it as is, please. It might still be useful.”
Impatient to return downstairs, Meg rose as soon as she was presentable. Heedless of being observed, she hurried down the main staircase to Luke’s study to see what, if anything, he had discovered. When she entered, Philip was already there and he appeared agitated. He was pacing the carpet in front of Luke’s desk, recounting a story.
“I do not see how my men could have lost them!”
“You are certain they took the Dover road?” Luke asked. He appeared to be gathering something from his desk. Meg looked closer and realized it was a set of pistols.
She had to put a stop to this foolishness. “I will go,” she announced. “I cannot let either of you risk yourselves for this. It is my affair.”
“This,” Luke emphasized, “is most certainly our business.”
“I do not know how she could have escaped unless she was disguised.”
“La Glacier?”
“Yes, she left on Hawthorne’s arm to go to the masquerade,” Philip replied.
“Can you be sure it was really her?”
“She was in disguise…” Philip slammed his fist down hard on the desk. “It was all an elaborate ruse!”
“Do you mean he sneaked Amelia out whilst pretending she was his mistress?” Meg asked in horror.
“And delivered her to Thurgood before coming to the party. Hawthorne was alone.”
“My men did not follow him to the party,” Philip said with evident self-disgust.
“You could not know, Philip, but I want you to keep eyes on Hawthorne. I suspect he is playing a very deep game. I will go after Thurgood. They could not have gone too far for they left just before the party.”
“Hawthorne will not escape me.”
“I am prepared to leave as soon as I hear word as to which direction they have gone. I sent men to all the principal roads from Town.”
“What if they left by the river?” Meg asked. “He is a shipping merchant.”
Luke looked up, panic crossing his face. He ran to the door. “Timmins, has the carriage returned?”
“Yes, your Grace, Thomas has it ready for you.”
“I will search the docks.”
“I am coming with you,” Meg stated, afraid he would argue.
Instead, he ushered her out of the front door and into the vehicle, barely pausing for a footman to fetch a cloak. Philip was already on his way after Hawthorne.
Meg closed her eyes and prayed they would catch them before it was too late.
“I still think Hawthorne will try to marry your sister first, but you are probably right about the docks. He could be married on board the ship, but it would not be recognized here in England.”
Meg remained silent as the carriage negotiated traffic and wove through narrow streets and around warehouses. She was too distracted for words. The smell of the river reached them before she saw any water. “Let it not yet be high tide,” Luke muttered, but Meg’s nerves were too overset to speak, and she had likely shredded the trim on her pelisse from fidgeting with it.
Meg knew very little about sailing, but she did know the tide was when large ships could leave the harbour. It was what had saved her the first time.
When they came upon the docks, Meg looked out of the window and began to panic. There had to be hundreds of ships there! Some large masted ships, barges covered with crates, and smaller ferries and skiffs congested the area near the docks.
“How will we ever find them in time?” she cried. “They all look alike!”
“The larger ships going to America are at the West Indies docks.”
“They are organized?” she asked with hopeful surprise.
“To some extent. Smaller ships are scattered where they can find a berth.”
The carriage drew to a stop. “Wait here,” he directed before he stepped out. She could hear him conversing with someone, although she could see very little from the small window. It must be the busiest port in the world—and a fine place to kidnap someone if ever there was one! The people she could see paid no mind to anyone around them; sailors were going about their business and porters were loading cargo onto ships.
Instinct told Meg Amelia was on a ship, but would she have gone willingly or had she been drugged? Would Thurgood take another chance at marrying into the English aristocracy?
Footsteps approached and Luke opened the door.
“We have time,” he said calmly. “The tide is not in for a few hours. However, no one seems to know who Thurgood is or if he has business here. It could take some little while.”
“I will help you look.” Meg moved forward to alight but Luke stopped her. “This is no place for a lady. I know I am not having much luck myself, dressed as I am. I sent a few urchins out to ask, but we need more men.”
“How long would it take to send to Bow Street?”
“Not long at all. We can go ourselves.” He directed the driver and climbed back into the carriage.
Luke allowed Meg to come inside with him. Sir John Fielding was the director of the Runners and Luke was shown directly to him. Luke succinctly explained the situation and Sir John called for several men to join them and repeated the story for the six men, directing them to search the docks. He also told them to take a good look at Meg so they might recognize her sister. She blushed under the scrutiny. “Her hair is a beautiful copper colour, but our looks are otherwise similar.”
When the Runners had left, Luke led her back to the carriage.
“What now?” she asked.
“We return home and wait.”
“I was afraid you would say that.”