Chapter Forty
“Are we stopping?” Lady Brampton whispered.
“Yes, I think so.” Sophie stared out into the darkening night, aware that the carriage had started to slow down. “I still cannot make out any landmarks. All I can see are trees.” Why hadn’t she paid more attention when they got into the carriage? Silly to have been so preoccupied not to, considering the circumstances. Sophie could kick herself.
“We were both somewhat distracted, girl,” Lady Brampton said. “You cannot blame yourself, for who would expect it not to be your driver?”
“I should have known better, what with this whole situation,” she chastised herself. “Devlin is going to murder me. Well, that is if I am not murdered by somebody else first.”
“Good God, girl,” Lady Brampton snapped. “Do not be so morbid. I for one do not intend on dying this evening.”
They both gasped as the carriage came to a sudden halt.
Sophie looked around for anything to use as a weapon, but the interior of the cabin was void of anything…except for the glass lamp cover attached to the wood paneling near the door.
She quickly reached over and began unscrewing it. She felt the carriage tilt and then right itself as the driver dismounted from his perch.
“What are you doing?” Lady Brampton whispered.
“Hopefully getting us a weapon,” she whispered back.
“Well, do be quick. I hear boot steps coming this way.”
Sophie breathed a sigh of relief as the glass cover came loose. She quickly hid it in the deep pocket of her skirt. She wanted to be sure what they were dealing with first before she had to use it, for it might very well be the only chance they had.
The door to the carriage was pulled open, and a man holding a lantern aloft peered into the cabin. Sophie could not see his face, but the outline of his body looked fairly slim and compact. They just might have a chance of overpowering him after all. But then the man extended his free hand into the carriage, and the interior light reflected off of the dull gleam of a pistol. Her hopes fell slightly, for against a pistol, she did not think her piece of glass would be very effective. But still, at least she had something that the villain did not know about.
“She has some glass secreted in her pocket,” Lady Brampton informed the man.
Sophie swiveled around in shock. “What? Why would you tell him? Unless…” Her voice faded off as she saw the look of absolute loathing in the other woman’s eyes.
Lady Brampton’s face stretched into a tight smile. “You did not think that I believed any of the rubbish you were sprouting about James’ being innocent of my husband’s murder, did you?” She laughed. “You should have seen how gullible you looked when I was pretending to be so shocked and confused after viewing my husband’s ring. The truth was I was vindicated when I saw it. Because that means that everything Simon has told me is true.”
“Simon, your husband’s son?”
“Lady Brampton,” the man interrupted from outside the coach. “Forgive me, but perhaps we should get her inside before he arrives?”
“Yes, I do suppose so,” the woman grumbled. “Hand over that bit of glass to Crandall,” she ordered Sophie.
Sophie pulled out the piece of glass from her pocket, her heart hammering so loudly, she was sure the old woman could hear it. “What do you intend to do now, kill me?”
The lady’s face screwed up in a sneer. “Simon shall deal with you; then you shall get everything you deserve for ever having associated with that murderer.”
“Devlin has not murdered anyone.” She gave the glass to the man, who took it, his face impassive, though he had to realize the woman meant her harm.
“I know.” Lady Brampton’s eyes glittered with excitement. “But he is his father’s son, and someone must pay for his father’s sins. Now get out of the carriage.”
Sophie stepped through the door and down the few steps to the dirt floor beneath. She looked around at the woods surrounding them. “Where are we?”
“Why, the grounds of Huntington Court, of course.”
…
Devlin stalked through the door of his London residence, frustration welling inside him that no one at all had answered the door at Lady Brampton’s home. Not even the butler.
He quickly assessed the sight in front of him. Sophie’s maid Abigail was blubbering something to his own butler, tears streaming down her face, while another man who had a bump the size of an egg on his head stood next to her. Devlin’s heart skipped a beat when he recognized it to be Sophie’s driver, Samuel.
He rushed up to Abigail. “What has happened? Where is Sophie?”
The girl flailed her hands through the air, looking as helpless as he felt. “I don’t know. We went to Lady Brampton’s, then they went off to Scotland Yard together, but they didn’t take me ’cause Lady Brampton refused to travel with a servant. I thought I had best follow on foot just in case, then when I got there, I found Samuel around the corner from the place, on the ground, knocked out! And the carriage nowhere to be seen…” Abigail stifled a cry with her fist. “If she’s dead, it’s all my fault.”
Devlin quelled her rising hysteria with a look. “Stop it at once. Your behavior is not helping.”
Immediately, Abigail gathered her wits, wiping her nose against her sleeve.
He turned to Samuel. “What happened?”
The man looked devastated. “I don’t know, sir. One minute I was on top of me perch on the carriage; next, I was woken up on the street by Abby here. Think someone must have knocked me on the head good, ’cause it’s hurting a cracker.”
“Your Grace,” Jenkins said, stepping forward. “This note came for you only a moment ago.”
Devlin grabbed the paper from his butler’s hand and quickly read the scrawl. “She’s been taken to the old hunting lodge in the woods at Huntington Court.” It was practically an invitation from the unknown assailant to try to save Sophie. By God, he’d be damned if he did not.
He turned on his heel and called out over his shoulder. “Get a horse saddled and then send all available men, well armed, to Huntington lodge immediately, and send a note to Inspector Singleton at Scotland Yard advising him of the situation. You two,” he looked over toward Abigail and Samuel, “tell Stokes what has happened and where I am headed.”
Devlin walked into his study and over to the safe, opening it and pulling out his revolver. It was the latest Smith and Wesson from the States and could hold six shots in the chamber. He filled all six slots with a bullet and then tucked the pistol behind his jacket and into the belt at the back of his pants. That, along with the dagger he always kept nestled in his boot and the small derringer he had strapped to his other ankle, should be enough.
He hurried out of the room. He would not let history repeat itself. He would not let Sophie die. He could not, for if he lost her, he rather suspected that life would hold little meaning to him anymore. He finally could admit it to himself. He’d gone and done something he had vowed never to do. He had fallen in love with her. God help them both.
…
Sophie looked around the old hunting lodge. It appeared that the place had not been used for a great number of years, if the amount of the dust and cobwebs were anything to go by.
She wrapped her arms tightly around her chest in an attempt to ward of the chill. She rather thought that the cold she was feeling would not abate even if a roaring fire had been blazing in the hearth. No, this chill came from the knowledge that her very life was hanging in the balance.
She still could not believe that Lady Brampton was complicit in the situation, but upon reflection, she had never met anyone so bitter in her life.
The man named Crandall ushered her into a small room off the main one as Lady Brampton walked further down the hall and out of sight.
Sophie looked around the scarcely furnished room, noting that there was a pallet on the floor with a few blankets and that the window had been boarded up tight.
Her gaze returned to the man. He could not have been more than an inch or two taller than herself, and he had a very slim frame.
“Are you responsible for any of the murders?” she asked him.
He looked somewhat taken aback by the question.
“I don’t know what you mean.” He shook his head in apparent confusion. “This has got nothing to do with no murders.”
Sophie squinted at him in bafflement. “Surely you are joking? What do you think this is all about then?”
“Is it not obvious?” he exclaimed. “You are being ransomed.”
“I am, am I?” she asked. “Are you sure about that?”
“Of course I am,” Crandall scoffed. But then what appeared to be a sign of doubt slowly crept across his eyes. “Why would you even mention murders?”
“Well, it looks like whoever it is you are working for has killed three people and has been trying to implicate the Duke of Huntington in their deaths, or at least one of them, in any event. Hence why I assumed that my kidnapping must have something to do with all that.”
The man looked troubled by her words. “No, you are just trying to play with my mind. You are being ransomed, and that is all. When we get the money, you’ll be let go.”
She felt like shaking some sense into him. “Why would Lady Brampton be involved in ransoming me? For one, she would go to jail for her part in all of this. That is if, as you say, I was released, which is highly doubtful as I have seen your faces.”
“We’re all leaving for the continent after this. Then the Duke won’t find us.”
Sophie wondered whether an ocean would possibly keep Devlin from hunting down those involved in this entire situation. She doubted it. “Do you know the Duke at all?”
A level of confidence returned to the man’s countenance, and he straightened his shoulders. “Not really, but I know my employer, and you ain’t met anyone cleverer than he.”
“You clearly do not know Devlin. I hope you are prepared to spend the rest of your life in Newgate for your part in the murders.” At least she could feel confident that Devlin would bring them to justice, no matter what happened to her. But she wasn’t about to go down without a fight.
“You’re lying,” Crandall exclaimed in outrage. “There ain’t been no murders.”
Well. That was unexpected. She backed away from him slightly. He was looking somewhat wound up. “Did you not hear about the three Crowley servants’ deaths?”
He quieted down, obviously confused. “Yes.”
“It would seem your employer had something to do with them.” She widened her eyes and tried to look as young and innocent as possible, to play further on his conscience. “I am likely next if you keep assisting him.”
“He ain’t murdered no one.” Crandall held his palms out, as if begging her to believe his tale. “He only wants to right a wrong. I know he has been setting the Duke up for some great downfall.”
“Like implicating him in murder?” Sophie softly asked.
The man made a bewildered sound before his ability to form real words returned. “No,” he replied. “He’s not a murderer. He can’t be…” Suddenly, fear stole across his features.
“But what if he is?” Sophie implored him. “He is not going to leave any witnesses alive. And that includes you.”
“No. You are just trying to confuse me.”
“I am not. Think it through,” she urged him. “It all makes sense. And if we hurry before he gets here, we can escape. Devlin will reward you for saving me.”
“It is too late for that, Lady Sophie,” a familiar voice rang out from the doorway.