Page 38 of Only Pleasure Will Do

Chapter 17

Luck was with him. When Reginald and Pearl rounded the corner from the estate into the shady lane that led to town, Marlow had neither broken his tether during the night nor been stolen. He remained docilely cropping grass beneath the tree where Reginald had left him. He began to run toward the horse, thinking his prayers answered, when Pearl screamed and clutched him around the neck. He immediately whirled around, thinking the child had seen some danger. But the quiet country road held nothing but the early afternoon sunshine.

“What’s the matter, Pearl?”

“Bad.” She pointed at the horse, whose head had come up at the sound of Reginald’s voice. “Horses are bad, Sir Reginald.”

“No, my dear. Horses are good animals. They take you where you want to go, very quickly and easily.” He spoke in his most soothing tone, but the girl wasn’t having any of it.

“No, they’re bad.” She reared back and looked him in the face. “They bite you.”

Dear Lord, just what he didn’t need with time of the essence. “I swear to you, Pearl, Marlow does not bite.” He looked into her tearful face, an idea dawning. “Did a horse bite you once?”

She nodded and pulled her sleeve up her arm. There indeed were the faint but unmistakable scars from a horse’s teeth. “Last spring, Mama said I could have riding lessons and I was so excited. I could hardly wait. The first day was good. I had fun. But the next day, when I went to pet my horse, it bit me.” She rubbed the old wound, frowning as tears formed in her eyes. “P…please don’t make me ride him.”

“My dear, I am afraid you have to.” Reginald shifted the girl and put her on the ground. Then he knelt before her, looking into her eyes earnestly. “Remember the man who took your mother?”

Pearl nodded solemnly. “He was bad too. He didn’t bite, but he was bad just the same.”

“Yes, he is a very bad man. And I’m afraid he’s going to hurt your mother if we don’t get to town in time to save her.” He pointed to Marlow. “If we don’t ride the horse, we will have to walk all the way to London, which is a very long way indeed. Days and days of walking. But if we ride Marlow, we can get there today, in an hour or two.” The idea that he would not be in time to save Maddy from having to choose whether to kill innocents to protect her daughter ate at him even as he peered into her child’s frightened face. “I promise you, Pearl, I’ve never seen Marlow bite anyone. He is a gentle animal. You stay here and watch.”

He rose and walked calmly toward the horse, who nickered as he approached. So far so good. “Hello, my good fellow. Please, for God’s sake, be happy to see me.”

Apparently, his wish was granted. Marlow nodded and blew out his breath, which drew a sharp shriek from Pearl. Reginald patted the sleek chestnut coat down the graceful neck. The animal seemed fine, although he likely needed water. He’d attend to that as soon as they were mounted. “See, Pearl. There’s no reason to fear Marlow.”

He turned around to encourage her, only to find the child had lain down in the long grass, trying to hide from him. “Pearl,” he muttered under his breath, his heart sinking. This was not going to be easy at all. With a sigh, he located the bush under which he’d hidden the saddle and bridle and swiftly made Marlow ready to ride.

After much coaxing, he managed to get the girl to approach the horse, and with even more cajoling, to finally get her up on the animal. But his troubles were still not over. Pearl didn’t like the gentle rocking of the canter, even less the jarring trot. She was more or less content with a fast walk, but the shadows kept lengthening and Reginald simply couldn’t keep the slower pace. He must get to London, to Maddy, before it was too late. Therefore, he varied their speed, cantering as much as he could before Pearl’s frantic sobbing made him drop down to a trot then the inevitable walk before tapping Marlow back into the faster gait.

Twilight shadows had spread across the narrow, cobbled lane in front of No. 4 Bow Street when Reginald finally pulled the tired horse to a stop. By the grace of God, they’d arrived, somewhat the worse for wear, but at least still alive. He slid down to the street, happy to stand on his feet after such a long while, and tied Marlow to a post.

“Here we are.” He grabbed Pearl and hurried through the dark wooden doors of the Magistrates Court.

And into Bedlam. He paused at the threshold, taking in the chaos that reigned in his usually hectic but organized world.

At least six of his Runners were hurrying to and fro, calling to one another. Some waved sheaves of papers, while others donned their cloaks as though they were going out on a case. The frantic pitch of overall urgency in the room stunned him.

“What the devil’s going on here?” Reginald had to shout to be heard over the din.

The silence that ensued jolted him even more than the disorder.

“Sir Reginald, thank God you’re alive.” John Carruthers, one of his more seasoned Runners, bolted across the room to him. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you, sir, but couldn’t find you. Some said as you might’ve been at the house at the time.”

“What are you talking about, Carruthers? Faulk,” he turned to one of his junior runners, “fetch Mrs. Dove immediately.”

Faulk took one look at Reginald’s face and sped off in search of the housekeeper.

“Now what is this nonsense about, Carruthers?” Reginald swept into his office, glancing at the desk, though it held nothing save the handful of papers he’d left there yesterday. “Why has Bow Street become a mad house?”

The stricken look on the Runner’s face sent an icy spike of dread directly into Reginald’s heart. Had he arrived too late?

“I’m sorry, Sir Reginald. A report came in about half an hour ago of an explosion at the Marquess of Dalbury’s townhouse.” The man’s mouth flattened into a straight line. “Our first thought was to find you, sir. We checked at your house, at your club, at the Bird and Bear.” A tavern he’d been known to frequent. “When we couldn’t find you, we began to speculate that perhaps you’d been at Dunham House, sir.”

The icy spike had grown, chilling his whole heart. “Has anyone gone to Dunham House?”

“Yes, sir. Tomkins and Bray, sir. We were just getting ready to send Armstrong and Mellon as well.” Carruthers glanced about the room, obviously wishing he were anywhere but here. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for yet, Carruthers. We’ve no idea if anyone has been hurt, much less killed.” Despite the fierce words, Reginald’s stomach sank. Apparently, Maddy had made her choice, impossible as it must have been.