Protecting Lady Esther (The King's League)

“It will take some time,” the doctor continued, as Esther gave in to her tears, “but

he will make a full recovery, I am quite certain.”

Esther could barely speak, looking up at the doctor and thanking him through trembling lips. The doctor smiled gently and nodded, before excusing himself and saying that he would give them a few minutes with Lord Leighton.

“You see?” Lady Ware said, gently, trying to encourage Esther still further. “Your father will recover. He will be well again. He will be weak indeed to begin with, but all will be well soon enough.”

“I thank you,” Esther whispered, holding onto her father’s hand with both of hers and looking desperately into his face as though the sheer force of her presence would make him wake up. “Thank you for all you have done, Aunt. I do not think that I would have been able to endure it all without your comfort.”

Lady Ware squeezed Esther’s shoulder and then walked around to the other side of the bed to look down at her brother fondly. “I confess that I do not understand all that has occurred,” she said, throwing Esther a small smile. “But, mayhap, now is not the time to seek out answers.”

Esther let out a gentle laugh, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. She was tired, sore, and still feeling very weak, but the relief she felt at being back at home with her father washed over all other emotions. “There is a good deal to explain, Aunt,” she admitted with a wry smile. “And I assure you that all will be told to you come the morrow—when we have had time to rest and recover. For the moment, however, I will say that all has come to an end and that you and I are quite safe.”

Lady Ware nodded, a small smile on her face. “I am glad to know that,” she said truthfully. “And you have been very brave indeed, Esther. I am very proud of you.”

Esther smiled back at her aunt, feeling her tears begin to creep back into her eyes again. “I thank you, Aunt,” she whispered, squeezing her father’s hand again. “I am just glad that we have been able to return home again and are now free from all danger.”

“And even your mother’s locket has been kept safe from harm,” Lady Ware commented, as Esther, surprised that Lady Ware had noticed, reached up and touched the locket. She had worn it unceasingly, ever since the day her father had given it to her, and she had quite forgotten about it until now.

“I am glad,” Esther whispered, looking down at her father as she brushed her fingers over the locket. “I do hope that he wakens soon so that I can show him that all is well – and that I have worn my mother’s locket, just as he asked.” She glanced up at her aunt. “Mayhap that will bring him a little comfort.”

“I am certain it will,” Lady Ware murmured, leaving that side of the bed and coming around to Esther. “Come now, my dear. You must rest. Lord Westbrook will return soon, once he has dealt with Lord Hogarth and the other man – I forget his name – and you must bathe, change, and eat before then.” She smiled as Esther rose. “And see, it is already morning!” She gestured towards a chink in the drapes before tugging them back a little more, revealing the beautiful sunrise. Esther took in the scene for a long moment, feeling as though this was the new beginning that she had been searching for ever since the day her father had disappeared. Taking in a long breath, she let it out slowly and nodded to her aunt.

“Beautiful indeed,” she murmured, letting go of her father’s hand with regret and walking towards the door before the urge to stay by his side grew even more. “We will be informed if there is any change, will we not?”

Lady Ware nodded, opening the door and revealing two maids ready to come in and take their places by Lord Leighton’s side.

“We shall hear of it the moment anything occurs,” she promised, leading Esther out of the bedchamber. “But come now, you must rest and eat. Otherwise you will be no good to anyone, and I do not want the doctor to have another to attend to!” She smiled warmly at Esther, who nodded in understanding. After another brief word with the doctor and a good deal of thanks, Esther slowly made her way to her own bedchamber where a bath was waiting for her. She would bathe, change, and rest, she decided, aware of just how tired she was. The desire to eat would come later, once she had been given the opportunity to lie down and close her eyes for a short time, knowing that she would sleep peacefully and without the fear of any nightmares displaying her fears to her as they had done before. Her father would recover, the doctor had said, and it was to this hope that Esther clung. Everything would return to as it had once been, with her father safe and secure once more. There was nothing left for her to fear any longer.

Chapter Fifteen

“Westbrook.”

Charles exhaled loudly before shaking Lord Brandley’s hand, seeing how the man’s eyes were heavy with exhaustion. “Lord Brandley,” he said gruffly. “You have returned.” He gestured to his drawing room, where Lord Watt and Lord Riggerton already sat. “Please, do come in.”

“I thank you,” Lord Brandley muttered, running one hand through his hair before slowly making his way towards the other gentlemen, who all rose to greet him. Charles, grateful that he had managed to have a few hours of rest before rising again, gestured to the footman who held a tray in his hands, which held glasses of whisky and very fine brandy. The footman approached Lord Brandley and then Lord Watt and Lord Riggerton again. Each man took a glass, and Charles himself grasped one also before telling the footman he could go. There was no need for any of this to be overheard.

“Leadsom,” he began, sitting down in an overstuffed chair and leaning his head back. “What happened?”

Lord Brandley shrugged. “He has been taken to the Bow Street Runners so that they might keep him under lock and key, although I have left one of our men there also, to ensure that he does not escape or try anything foolish.” He frowned, glancing from Charles to Lord Watt. “He also stated, over and over again, that Lord Watt was to speak to the Prince Regent on his behalf.”

“That is just so,” Lord Watt agreed quickly, “but it will come to naught. I will tell the prince everything that has occurred, but I do not think that he will consider anything but hanging for a crime such as treason.”

“We said as much to Leadsom in order to encourage him to tell us what he knew,” Charles explained, as Lord Riggerton began to nod slowly. “Knowing full well that nothing but his life would be demanded for the crimes that he has done.”

A small silence fell over the group, leaving Charles to think back on what had happened and to feel, again, the same overwhelming sense of fright that had come when he had first heard that Lord Hogarth was no longer serving The King’s League.

“And what of Lord Hogarth?” Lord Brandley asked, sagging back into his chair and looking towards Charles with troubled eyes. “I know he has been taken to Lord Dallier’s residence, but what will happen to him now?”

Charles’s heart grew heavy with the weight of responsibility that sat on it. Taking a sip of his whisky, he spread out his hands and looked directly at Lord Brandley. “Lord Dallier is taking responsibility for Lord Hogarth until the time comes for him to appear before the Prince Regent,” he explained, not wanting to go into the confusion and the doubt that had troubled his mind as he had wondered whether or not Lord Dallier was involved with the French and would, therefore, help Lord Hogarth to escape. “It is safest for Lord Hogarth to remain there.”

“Lord Dallier was very closely acquainted with Sir Taylor,” Lord Watt added quietly, his voice seeming to carry across the room, each word distinct and weighted with importance. “He himself is retired from The King’s League, as Lord Leighton was meant to be, but he could be relied upon to ensure that Lord Hogarth is kept securely.” He glanced at Charles, then shook his head. “I confess that I feared that Lord Dallier might be working against us also, which is a ridiculous fear to have but one that came from the knowledge that Lord Hogarth gave every appearance of being loyal to the Crown but was, it seemed, not so.”

“That is a burden I think we must continue to carry,” Charles said softly, as every gentleman turned to him. “We have joined The King’s League with the promise that we will serve the Crown and remain loyal to it. Now, for the first time, we have someone who only feigned their loyalty and used their knowledge of us to work against us. They very nearly succeeded as well, had it not been for the strength and courage of Lady Esther.”

Lord Brandley threw back the rest of his whisky and set his glass down hard. “Then the bonds of trust between us are significantly frayed,” he stated, with a touch of anger in his voice. “If it now appears that we could not trust Lord Hogarth and that he was working with our enemies, what hope do we now have?” He looked from Charles, to Lord Riggerton, to Lord Watt and then back again. “How can we be certain that there will not be another ‘Lord Hogarth’ amongst us?”

Charles could not answer. The weight of the question rolled onto his shoulders and would not remove itself, for it spoke of the very same fears that he himself had felt lingering on his mind. He thought of Lady Esther, thought of how she trusted him implicitly, and how he himself had come to trust her with his heart. She was loyal to him; he had no doubt about that. He would never even think to question what she felt for him, for it was apparent in almost everything she said and did.