Lady Unveiled (Daughters of Sin 5)

“No need to look at me like that,” Cranborne darted a sideways look at Tunley. “You’re thinking more than just that I’d be a thousand plumper in the pocket if I’d confessed my sins to you when you first intimated your suspicions.”

Silverton’s sins were not the only ones clearly outlined in the oblong pewter box. Cranborne had been named as the father to the child most likely to inherit Sir Archie Ledger’s estate. In the biggest shock of all, he’d also been labeled Lady Partington’s lover.

Only Ralph was lily-white compared with Silverton and Cranborne, not to mention a raft of society’s notables whose various affairs and misdemeanors were carefully tallied in the lists Debenham had compiled.

Of course, the elephant in the room was to whom the box should be delivered—to Sir Edward alone? And with its full complement of secrets?

The early morning sun was filtering across the floor, and the question still had not been addressed, when a loud knocking at the door came as a relief. The question could be delayed while a matter of apparent urgency needed attention. Even if it was only a question concerning dinner.

They all turned, and Ralph was the first to step forward as Miss Hazlett flew into the room. Silverton hadn’t seen the young governess for

some time, and then she’d been dressed in drab serge with her hair severely restrained beneath her bonnet. Now, she’d clearly not taken the time to properly dress her lustrous dark locks, which had come undone from their bindings and cascaded down the shoulders of her hastily-buttoned pelisse. Indeed, the top two buttons were not fastened. Miss Hazlett was a young lady of such restraint Silverton wondered what could have prompted such a departure from her usual careful toilette.

“Lissa?” Clearly, Tunley thought the same, but with more alarm judging by his tone.

“Kitty sent this!” she cried, coming to a stop before him in the center of the room and thrusting a piece of parchment at him. “Oh Ralph, she’s been taken. I went to your lodgings, and Mrs. Nipkins sent me here. I beg your pardon, gentlemen, but this is a matter of urgency. Lord Debenham is holding my sister against her will. She’s sent a message to that effect, and beneath it, his Lordship has written that he’s prepared to negotiate in return for her release.”

“Kitty? They’ve taken Kitty?” Silverton felt the air sucked from his lungs as he repeated, “Debenham wants to negotiate?”

“There’s nothing he can negotiate over,” said Cranborne with a frown. “We have all the evidence we need for a case against him.”

“He says he has nothing to lose, and he’ll simply take Kitty with him when he goes. That he’s going to jump into the river, and that if you don’t entertain his demands, he’ll…he’ll kill her.”

It was true. Debenham didn’t have anything to lose. He knew that all the evidence needed to see him hang was there in that little pewter box. He was also vengeful, and he’d know that no court would consider Kitty’s life important enough to haggle with. Besides, there wasn’t time.

“I’ll go.” The others had said nothing, but it had taken Silverton no time at all to come to the conclusion that he’d do whatever was physically within his power to secure Kitty from Debenham. Remorse hung heavily upon him. “I knew I shouldn’t have let her go when she gave me the box last night. Thank God she’s all right for the moment, is all I can say. I’ll go now.”

They all went. However, the others traveled by carriage while Silverton went on horseback once he’d changed into riding clothes.

It was less than an hour to the hamlet named, but he was bone-weary by the time he arrived, for the roads had been half washed away by a recent deluge.

The address had not been familiar to him, and now he found himself before a large flour mill. He had no idea why Debenham might have chosen such a location, except that it was remote. Kitty would not be overheard by curious neighbors.

He saw her from the window before he’d even come to a halt, and his heart seemed to double in size when she smiled her relief; her face a faint and far-off mirage that gave him hope. “Silverton!” She’d barely managed to utter his name before she was abruptly torn from the window, and Silverton threw himself off his horse and ran to the door of the mill.

Kitty was in danger because of him. She’d taken an enormous risk, and it was up to Silverton alone to extricate her from whatever threat was hanging over her head. Debenham had everything to lose, but he was clearly not going to go out without a fight. If Silverton had only thought the thing through better, he ought to have known that he should have put a constant watch over Kitty until Debenham had been brought to justice. What a fool he’d been to have underestimated the importance of everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, not least the danger to Kitty. As if she’d not already put herself in mortal danger through her brave act—of folly, some might say—to entice Debenham to his home.

The sound of squelching boots across the courtyard made him turn from his hammering on the mill door, and the miller nodded his head in greeting.

“I eard as ‘ow there’d be someun ter fetch the lass.” He was an enormous fellow with huge meaty fists and a bullet-shaped head poking out of his rough clothing. While he looked menacing, his tone was conversational. “Brother, mayhap? She’s done a grave wrong, I ‘eard. Stole sumfink that wasn’t ‘ers. You ‘ere to give it back fer ‘er return?”

Silverton looked about him. He had to raise his voice above the fast-running river and the clank and creak of the waterwheel nearby. Recent heavy rains had caused a veritable cascade. He wondered why Debenham had chosen this, of all places, to entice Silverton.

And what he had in mind.

It didn’t matter. Silverton just needed to get Kitty out of here, safe and sound.

“That’s what Lord Debenham told you? I need to see Miss Bijou now.”

The miller opened his mouth to reply but stopped at a sound behind him.

“Ah, Silverton, so it was you all along.”

Silverton jerked his head around at the familiar caramel tones as Debenham came into view. As sartorially elegant as ever, his high shirt points seemed to hold up his long neck, almost serpent-like neck it seemed, given that his eyes glittered amber in the morning light.

“I wondered whom Miss Bijou would summon to her rescue. Fool that I was, I believed you were the last for whom she harbored any fondness after you gave her your congé the moment you announced your betrothal to worthy Miss Mandelton.”

“Miss Bijou knows I will always look to her interests and not only in this instance when she has delivered to me exactly what you know will see you rot in prison.”