Protecting Lady Esther (The King's League)

Lord McBride chuckled, his smile growing into a grin. “I heard that you were making eyes at a wench a couple of nights ago, Lord Westbrook,” he said, sending a chill running down Charles’s back. “A young lady you wanted to keep all to yourself.” He lifted one eyebrow in question, making Charles struggle for an immediate answer.

“I was defending the lady,” he said eventually, trying not to reveal anything he did not need to about Lady Esther. “There were two drunken gentleman seeking to take hold of her, and I was not about to allow it.”

Lord McBride chuckled, his dark eyes gleaming. “Well, they are not particularly pleased with you, Lord Westbrook. I should watch out for them if I were you.”

“I highly do

ubt that it will come to fisticuffs,” Charles replied dryly, gesturing to his face. “And if it did, then I will put them to rights as I did before.” He lifted his chin and looked steadily back at Lord McBride, who only chuckled. “Might I ask the names of these gentlemen so that I might keep my distance from them, should it come to that? I would rather avoid them – not out of fear but rather to ensure my name and theirs remain as free from scandal as possible.”

Lord McBride shrugged, seeming to quickly lose interest in the conversation. “Baron Dalrymple and a Sir Thompson,” he replied with a sigh. “Not that they would dare speak to you about what has occurred since you are an earl.”

Charles’s felt irritation burst within him almost at once. “Then why bring it to my attention?” he asked, seeing how Lord McBride shrugged then turned away. He slid back down into his chair, realizing that Lord McBride was just one of many gentlemen who liked nothing better than to gossip and to spread rumor. Most likely, many of the other gentlemen in Whites would now know that he had been seen defending a wench, regardless of whether or not such a thing was true.

He groaned inwardly, closing his eyes and wishing that he had never come to Whites. Perhaps it had been an error in judgement to show up when his bruises had not yet fully healed.

“Is something the matter?”

Opening his eyes, Charles accepted the glass of brandy from Lord Watt with a grunt.

“You are not pleased with the brandy?” Lord Watt asked, sitting down opposite and looking at Charles with concern. “Or is something paining you?”

“Lord McBride was speaking to me a moment or two ago,” Charles muttered, quickly relaying the story of what Lord McBride had said. “Perhaps it was foolish to come here when my bruises are still so obvious, but given the lateness of the hour, I did not think that many would be present and certainly would not notice.”

Lord Watt frowned. “You were aiding a wench then?” he asked, before taking a sip of his brandy. “What was she doing there?”

“No, she was not a wench,” Charles replied, with a quick roll of his eyes. “She was a lady of society.”

Lord Watt blinked in surprise. “And she was at The Shrew?” he asked, clearly taken aback. “For what reason?”

Charles shook his head and then threw back his brandy in three gulps, knowing that this would require a good deal of time in order to explain what had occurred. “She was seeking her father,” he said, glancing around Whites and making certain that no one could overhear him. “Her father being Lord Leighton.” He watched carefully, seeing how Lord Watt’s expression changed at once, from confused to utterly astonished. He, too, saw the significance of the name and knew at once that there might be something more afoot.

“Lord Leighton was at The Shrew?” Lord Watt asked after a few moments had passed. “What was it he was doing there? Gambling?”

Again, Charles shook his head, leaning forward conspiratorially. “He was not present, I am certain of it,” he said quickly. “I checked with a footman only yesterday and was informed that Lord Leighton was not present at The Shrew.”

“Then why was his daughter seeking him there?” Lord Watt asked, clearly now quite confused. “And what was her urgency in finding him?”

“Lord Leighton has left his townhouse and left his daughter in the care of Lady Ware, his sister, who is married but with her children all grown and settled.” He waved a hand, realizing that such details were not important. “He has gone from London to his estate, it seems, but without speaking to his daughter prior to his departure.”

Lord Wells did not dismiss this at once, as so many other gentlemen might have done. Instead, he nodded slowly, realizing that a slight change in behavior might be worth considering instead of simply throwing it aside. “I see.”

“His daughter is concerned for him and did not accept what her aunt said about him returning to his estate for urgent business, even though a note from Lord Leighton to Lady Ward was read out. She considers there to be something wrong and so went in search of him having discovered The Shrew written in his correspondence on a few occasions.”

“That was incredibly foolhardy,” Lord Wells muttered, shoving one hand through his short fair hair and blowing out a long breath. “It is just as well that you were there to ensure that she was kept safe.”

Charles shook his head. “I very nearly did not manage to do so,” he said, quickly telling Lord Watt about the attack on the hackney and how he had been knocked unconscious for a time, having been thrown from the hackney. He kept his voice low so that only Lord Watt could hear. “I am to meet with Lady Esther in a day or so,” he concluded, “to discuss the matter further, for there is a good deal more that I think must be talked about. I believe that Lady Esther has good instincts, Lord Wells. If she believes that her father is not at his estate and has, in fact, either been taken somewhere against his will or gone to another location where no one can find him, then I am inclined to accept her conclusions.”

“Particularly because Lord Leighton is known to The King’s League,” Lord Watt muttered, closing his eyes and rubbing at his forehead. “Did you say anything to her about that?”

“No, I did not,” Charles replied with a heaviness to his voice. “I did not think it wise to do so, not when she was already in such distress.”

“It would come as a great shock to her, I am sure,” Charles replied with a sigh. “Lord Leighton will have kept his part in The King’s League a secret from his family, as we all must do. Therefore, she will know nothing of it.” Lord Leighton was no longer a part of The King’s League, having served the king for some years but being granted retirement when his wife had passed away. It had been before Charles had joined the League, but his name was still well known to them all. He had worked tirelessly to ensure that England was kept safe from its enemies and some of his exploits were still being spoken of, such was the enormity of them. To hear that the man himself had now gone missing from London was of great concern to both Charles and Lord Watt, and Charles was quite certain that it would be equally worrying to the rest of the gentlemen in The King’s League.

“You believe, therefore, that the girl herself might be in danger?”

“I…” Charles hesitated, thinking hard. “I am not certain,” he said eventually. “The man who attacked the hackney was asking questions as to the location of Lord Leighton. I cannot know whether he already knows the location of Lord Leighton and is trying be sure Lady Esther doesn’t know where her father is, or if he is trying to seek the information for himself of where Lord Leighton has gone.”

“I see what you mean,” Lord Wells agreed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “He might well have been trying to ensure that Lady Esther did not know of where her father had gone and was, mayhap, trying to frighten her so that she would not seek him out again.” His eyes flared, and he looked back sharply at Charles. “Do you think that she will do that? That she will now accept that her father is away on urgent business and will merely wait until he returns?”