Page 78 of Not a Fine Gentleman

Chapter 21

As sunlight slanted into the parlor with the golden light of a sun inching toward the horizon, Margaret finished her correspondence and set the letters on a silver tray to be posted. Taking a moment, she glanced about the room at her family. Alicia played a soft sonata on the pianoforte, her lips curved in joy. Elise sat in a comfortable armchair, plying her needle on a work of art. Margaret had mastered sewing because it was an accomplishment all young ladies ought to have, but once she’d married Hennessy, she’d never picked up another needle again. She hadn’t missed it. Her sister-in-law seemed to take great joy in creating in such a manner.

Rachel had returned home to retrieve some research books she needed for a gardening magazine article she was composing. The article was based on the book about plants she had published—using a nom de plume, of course.

Genevieve had gone to lie down, pleading a headache. Christian had gone with her, presumably to offer her comfort. They weren’t fooling anyone. Margaret smiled. Christian had suffered much heartache as a youth and deserved this season of happiness.

After giving her dire warnings about not leaving the house, Jared and Grant had gone off to chase down clues as to the killer’s identity.

The music stopped, and Alicia stood. “I believe I’ll go to the nursery and see what mischief little Nicky is up to.”

Margaret bit her lip. She’d longed for children, but none had come to her. Once, Hennessy had said her womb, like the rest of her, was too cold to create life. He’d been a heartless cad whose opinion ought not affect her, but his words had burrowed deep inside. If only she could dig them out and fling them away like noxious weeds. Was she so unlovable that not even an baby could thrive inside her?

A footman arrived and went directly to Margaret. “This just arrived for you, milady.” He held out a small folded scrap of paper, battered and dirty.

Margaret took the paper and unfolded it. In a strong, masculine hand, it read:

Lady Hennessy,

I have your sister. If you wish to see her alive, you will take a carriage to Regent’s Park. Tell no one. Come alone. Be there before sunset. If you fail, she will suffer the same fate as your late husband.

No signature accompanied the note. This must be some sort of cruel prank.

She re-read the note. It gave no more information than the first time. She glanced at the clock. Rachel had been gone longer than Margaret would have thought.

Was it true? The beast who had killed Hennessy had captured Rachel? An image burst into her mind of her sister lying, gasping for breath. Cold horror trickled through her.

Elise looked up. “Anything amiss?”

Margaret schooled her features. “No. A friend invited me to a small dinner party next week.”

“By messenger?” Elise cocked her head to the side.

Margaret shrugged to buy herself time to make up a plausible explanation. “She had only today learned I was back in town and wanted to be sure I was invited. She probably feared I might be offended if I knew of it but had not been included.” She stopped talking lest she give so many details that it sounded as if she were spinning a tale. She glanced at the clock. “Perhaps now is a good time to dress for dinner.”

Without looking at Elise, Margaret took measured steps to the door leading to the great hall. Every muscle bunched to run, but she kept control. That monster had her sister. Margaret would kill him if he harmed her twin.

After giving terse instructions to the nearest footman to have the family coach readied immediately, Margaret went to her bedchamber. She put a hand on her head. Calm. Think.

Going alone begged trouble. She could alert Christian. An excellent shot, he could act as a backup. Not to mention her family would be furious if she went alone. But she risked Rachel’s life if the killer saw anyone with her. No, she’d best do this alone despite the danger. She refused to put Rachel’s life on the line.

Weapons. She must bring what she needed to protect herself and her sister. She hefted her small handgun, testing its balance, and then loaded it. She would find her sister and hold her captor at gunpoint if necessary or do whatever she must to defend her twin. After making sure the gun would fire if needed, she left it half-cocked and tucked it into the pocket of her woolen pelisse. Such a garment would be warm for this time of year, but its deep pocket would conceal the weapon.

After switching her slippers for sturdy half-boots, she slipped out. Her heart hammered in her ears. She glanced at the sky. In moments, the sun would set. She must act quickly.

The family town coach pulled up in front of the main entrance. Margaret dashed to it before the driver had gotten off the seat to set a step for her. Barely looking up at the driver, she called out, “Regent’s Park. Hurry!”

Before she’d fully closed the coach door, the whip cracked, and the coach lurched forward, tossing Margaret onto the seat.

Hurry, hurry, hurry, she willed the carriage. Rachel had probably put up a fight when that horrible man captured her. Had he harmed her? Margaret clenched her fists. She’d shoot the man and then stab him for good measure if he had injured her twin.

The driver turned down a side street and stopped. Margaret frowned. Why had they stopped here? A few more blocks remained before reaching the park. Something was wrong. She gripped the gun inside the pocket. The carriage moved from side to side as if the driver were climbing down. A heavy thud sounded outside the coach, and then the door wrenched open.

Wearing the cap and multi-caped coat of the family driver, a familiar, rodent-like face looked in—the man whose face haunted her at night and occupied countless drawings. Hennessy’s killer. He’d come to make good on his threat. She turned to ice. In the dim light flashed a blade.

Margaret lifted her gun and squeezed the trigger. The recoil jerked her hand. The killer let out a yell, and smoke filled the carriage. The shadowy form at the door staggered back.

“Margaret!” A male voice shouted.