“After you went to Arabia to find Katharine, the Bow Street Runners continued to search out clues on her whereabouts. They tracked the mercenary who had kidnapped her to an inn in Whitechapel where he had been staying.”
“Yes?”
“He was murdered.”
“Yes I knew that.”
“Yes but what that Bow Street Runners discovered was that he was murdered by a knife wound to the throat. Those working at the inn saw a man who had gone to see him right before he was killed. He was never found, but he was a large man dressed in Arab garb. He is believed to have been the murderer.”
“Abdullah,” Mohammed said as he nodded.
Though Edward had never met Abdullah, it made sense that he would be the one to have killed the mercenary if he was behind the plot to kidnap her. He was covering his tracks.
Mohammed closed his eyes and saw everything fall into place. Abdullah, his most trusted advisor and friend, had done everything. He had the mercenary kidnap Katharine, he had sent the letter, and he had Safiya seduce him to impregnate herself with a son. It was all Abdullah, like a serpent in the nest. And then he had killed Jean Baptiste to cover his tracks. He was behind everything.
“He is behind everything, Lord Edward. He has done all of this. My most trusted advisor,” Mohammed said incredulously. It was not to be believed.
He must find Katharine. She must know the truth. She must be told everything and then all would be made right.
“Where is Katharine?” He felt his heart race. He had to see her.
“She is having tea with Lady Dunvale. Why?”
“I have to explain everything to her. She must know everything that has happened. I can’t allow one more day to go by without her knowing the truth.”
“My dear boy,” Edward said as he clasped Mohammed about the shoulders. “The wrongs will be righted. Take faith in the fact that she loves you.”
Mohammed smiled.
“Thank you, Lord Edward.”
Chapter 28
He took the steps two at a time to make his way from the townhouse to a hired hackney cab.
He would be there shortly, for Lady Dunvale’s townhouse was nearby. He gave the cab driver directions and his mind raced. What would he say to her? It would come to him. All that mattered was the truth.
He pulled up near the corner and was about to get out when something caught his eye. A coach was waiting near Lady Dunvale’s townhouse and the driver sat hunch backed in a large frock coat, tight and ill fitting. He was eyeing Lady Dunvale’s townhouse with urgency. His back was to Mohammed, so Mohammed could not see the man’s face.
Mohammed watched the coach and gave his driver instructions to wait.
Katharine emerged a short time later from the house, stepping lightly into the coach where the driver had been waiting for her. As the coach turned the corner, he noticed a small alleyway next to Lady Dunvale’s townhouse and saw a man lying half-naked, stripped of his frock coat. That was the true driver! Allah help him, he thought as terror seized him.
Abdullah was here!
“Follow that coach,” he shouted to the driver.
Mohammed knew with certainty that Abdullah was finally taking matters into his own hands. With Katharine inside and the coach at his control, he would take her someone secluded to finish what had been started long ago.
***
She had a lovely time with Lady Dunvale. They had gossiped about the card party and she learned that she had been on the gossipmonger’s tongues when it was known that she had kissed the delectable foreigner.
Katharine sighed. If they only knew, she thought.
Katharine felt the coach sway and knew that something was wrong. There had been a coach outside, and the driver assured her that he would take her to her destination in Mayfair. But as they kept driving, she knew she was not heading toward her home and that something was wrong. She shouted and pounded on the roof, but there was no answer.
Was she being kidnapped again? Her heart leaped into her throat. No!