A Treacherous Proposition. Patricia Frances Rowell
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Vincent drew the horse pistol from his saddle and dismounted. Standing over them, he called to Sudbury, “May I make use of the whiskey?”
“Certainly. May have to squeeze. Nice bit of riding, Lonsdale.” Sudbury moved his small carriage nearer. “What the devil was that all about?”
“I wish I knew.” Vincent scowled in the direction the escaping coach had taken. “Lady Diana, you and Selena need…” He paused when he realized she had not moved. “My lady?” When he still received no response, he went down on one knee beside her. “Diana?”
At last she lifted her head and looked in his direction, her eyes glazed with shock and a large area of skin scraped from her cheek. “My lord?”
Fury welled up in Vincent. They had hurt her. They had marred that perfect face. Let him but get his hands on them… But now he must get her safely away. Vincent clenched his teeth and forced his anger down. “Can you stand?”
She nodded, but did not get up. Placing an arm around her, he stood, bringing her with him. Selena and Bytham clung to her, their heads buried in her skirt. He took the boy into his own arms and nudged Diana toward the carriage. “Can you and Selena climb in?”
“I—I…” The vague expression in her eyes cleared. “Yes. Of course.” Never letting go of the girl, she managed with Sudbury’s help to get them both into the whiskey. Vincent mounted again before handing Bytham down to her.
It would not do to be on foot if his supposed ally proved false. He barely knew Justinian Sudbury. For all Vincent could say, the man might have been on the scene to supervise the abduction, never expecting help to appear. In fact, when Sudbury first came bowling across the lawn, Vincent had feared he intended to reinforce the kidnappers.
Damn! He did not want Diana and the children in the man’s carriage. But he could not carry all four of them on his horse.
He could ride behind with a pistol discreetly trained on the back of Sudbury’s head.
And he did.
Diana’s knees would scarcely hold her. Ever since she had disembarked from Justinian’s carriage at the Litton residence, she had been shaking. No matter how hard she tried to control it, she shook. And she would not let the children out of her sight. When Alice offered to take them upstairs, Diana’s heart lurched into her throat.
So they had all assembled in Helen’s elegant drawing room where she had ordered restorative viands to be served. The children had been indulged with hot chocolate and cakes, and Diana indulged herself with a large glass of sherry. Exhausted, Selena leaned against her where they sat on the sofa, but Bytham insisted on occupying Vincent’s lap.
His lordship appeared resigned to the destruction of yet another stylishly tied neckcloth and was keeping her son supplied with sandwiches from a plate on a table by their chair. Between the two of them, they had made impressive inroads on Helen’s supplies. Cream cheese and jelly smeared her son’s face, and a liberal amount of it had transferred itself to the starched cravat.
Diana looked at him appreciatively. “Thank God you happened to be in the park. I cannot imagine what I would have done had you not arrived so fortuitously. I am once again more indebted to you than I can ever repay.”
Diana caught a whiff of horseradish as Vincent shook his head and selected a sandwich of thinly sliced roast beef. “Not at all. I am happy that I was there, but that was not an accident. I had promised this ambitious gentleman here that he might have a ride on Blackhawk if he would be good and nap. I did not wish to fail in my word, so when I learned that you had gone to the park, I went in search of you.”
“Still, I am very grateful.” Diana accepted a second glassful of the sweet, amber wine from Lord Litton. What a luxury to have all she wished, even if her head did swim a bit.
Litton topped off Vincent’s glass and returned to his seat. He glanced speculatively at his stepson. “The question is, who were those people? Unlikely that it is a kidnapping for ransom. There must be some other motive.”
Diana emitted an unladylike snort. “I cannot imagine who would be so poorly informed as to believe I could pay ransom.”
Vincent’s dark gaze bored into her. “Then what?”
“I… I have no idea.” Oh, dear heaven! Could this be the work of her unidentified tormentor? But why would Deimos take the children? He already held the most terrifying threat against her. Still, she dared tell them nothing about him.
At that moment Feetham appeared at the drawing room door and addressed Helen. “Lord St. Edmunds, my lady.”
Vincent, narrowly preventing Bytham from wiping his hands on his stock again, set the boy down and came to his feet. Lord Litton followed suit. St. Edmunds hurried into the room on the heels of the butler. Vincent scowled. The lord wore a blue coat. But then, so did half the gentlemen of London.
St. Edmunds sketched a hasty bow in Helen’s direction and turned to Diana. “Lady Diana, are you well? Are the children unhurt? I just heard the most appalling tale.”
Diana could not like the man, no matter his show of concern. Still, she strove to speak politely. “Thank you, my lord. We had a very narrow escape. Had it not been for the intervention of Lord Lonsdale and Mr. Sudbury, my children would have been taken from me.”
“Terrible. Terrible.” St. Edmunds pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow. “I could not believe my ears.”
“And just where did you hear of the matter?” Vincent’s eyebrows lowered and his voice was cold.
“At White’s, just this quarter-hour ago. I came at once.” St. Edmunds stuffed the handkerchief back into his pocket. “I’m sure the episode is all over London by now.”
“No doubt.” Lord Litton offered the newcomer a chair and provided him with a glass of sherry. “We were just discussing the matter. Clearly a case of ransom.”
At that, Vincent’s eyebrows rose as high as they had been low a moment before. He did not stop glaring at St. Edmunds, but he did resume his chair. When Bytham would have climbed back into his lap, Vincent stopped him with a look and a gesture that sent him back to Diana. He then glanced speculatively at Litton.
So did Diana.
At his comment, St. Edmunds’s brow puckered. “Ransom? Do you think so? I would have thought…” He glanced at Diana and apparently decided on diplomacy. “Well, I suppose there is no saying.”
How should she respond? Clearly, Vincent Ingleton harbored hostility toward St. Edmunds. And was that suspicion in his black eyes? Diana settled for shrugging. “I could not say, my lord. I am quite baffled.”
“You should never have been allowed to go abroad without a footman.” St. Edmunds returned Vincent’s glare pointedly. “I trust you will not do so again.”
“She will not.”
At the vehemence in his tone, Diana gave Vincent a startled glance. Bristling for a heartbeat, she was on the verge of telling both their lordships