Anne Herries - The Unknown Heir

It was late when Lady Ireland called for her carriage to take them home. She had met several of her close friends that evening, and, seeing that her goddaughter was in good company, had lingered beyond her normal hour. She glanced at Hester in the dim light inside the carriage.

‘Did you enjoy yourself this evening, my dear?’

‘Yes, it was a pleasant evening,’ Hester replied. ‘I always enjoy myself when I stay with you. I met several friends.’

‘I saw you talking to Mr Carlton and Sir John Fraser,’ Lady Ireland said. ‘Sir John is such a pleasant gentleman, do you not think so?’

‘Yes, I do,’ Hester said. ‘But so are Mr Carlton and Lord Havers.’

‘Ah, yes, Lord Havers. The gossips say that he is about to propose to Miss Castle.’

‘Yes, I have heard that, but I do not know if it is true,’ Hester said. She glanced at her godmother in the poor light. ‘It matters little one way or the other, because I do not wish to be married.’

‘I have never understood that,’ Lady Ireland said. ‘Would you not enjoy being the mistress of your own home? Surely you must wish for a husband—and children?’

‘Perhaps, I am not sure,’ Hester told her and wrinkled her smooth brow. ‘Had I been asked when I was eighteen, I might have said yes, but I have become settled in my ways. Mama cannot be bothered with the running of a large house these days. Papa’s death left her feeling…delicate. Grandfather still orders the estate as much as he can, of course, but he leaves the house to me. It would be ungrateful of me to desert them, do you not agree?’

‘As it happens, I do not agree,’ her godmother told her. ‘Your grandfather has enough servants to see to his comfort—and your mama could well do her share if she tried.’

‘Yes, perhaps,’ Hester agreed and laughed softly. ‘But you see, I enjoy looking after them, and the house and the servants. It really isn’t a trouble to me.’ She glanced out of the window as they passed by a house from which a great deal of light was to be seen streaming into the street. It was, she supposed, one of the fashionable gaming houses that gentlemen liked to frequent. At that moment a gentleman was on the point of leaving, standing for a second or two in the full light of lanterns and a torch one of the links boys was holding aloft. She saw his face clearly, and noted the fact that he was fashionably dressed before the carriage swept by. ‘Was that—?’ She broke off as her godmother turned to her inquiringly. ‘Did you see that gentleman just now?’

‘Which particular gentleman?’ Lady Ireland asked. ‘We passed a rather noisy group of them a moment ago. Coming, I dare say, from that club we passed just now.’

‘I thought it was Mr Clinton,’ Hester said and frowned. ‘It was a little odd.’

‘He does look a little odd,’ Lady Ireland admitted. ‘But, as I said earlier, once you take him in hand he will do, Hester. I imagine he will pay for dressing.’

‘Yes,’ Hester agreed. She decided against telling her godmother that the man she had just seen needed no help from her. If it had been the heir—and she had seen him so briefly that she could not be certain—it meant that he was playing a deep game, as she had suspected. Was there something sinister about him? A shiver ran down her spine as she thought about the various accidents that had happened to the Sheldon family over the past few years. Supposing they were not accidents, but deliberate acts to bring about the situation that now existed? Could the American heir have been behind some of the accidents that had befallen her family?

Jared left the Carrick Club and began to walk in the direction of a hackney cab that had drawn up a short distance from the club. It was a pleasant night, the sky lit by a sprinkling of stars, and he might have been inclined to walk had he been certain of his way. As he was not well acquainted with this part of town, he thought it might be best to take advantage of the cabs that waited for paying passengers. His head was clear for he had drunk no more than a glass or two of wine, and he had spent an enjoyable few hours playing piquet for a few hundred guineas with some gentlemen he had met at the club, winning just slightly more than he lost. He was deep in thought, undecided whether to go on with his masquerade the next day, and it was only an ingrained instinct that warned him at the last moment.

Turning suddenly, he found himself confronted by a burly rogue armed with a stout cudgel. The man’s arm was raised, as if he had been about to strike from behind. Jared acted to save himself, flinging himself at the rogue and catching his arm in a powerful grip that caused the other man to cry out in pain. Seconds later, the rogue found himself suddenly twisted off his feet and thrown head over heels, landing on his back on the hard pavement. He stared up at Jared, a dazed expression on his face as he struggled to understand what had happened to him.

‘What did yer do that fer?’ he asked in an aggrieved tone. ‘I weren’t doin’ no ’arm.’

‘I suppose you were not about to crack me over the head in the hope of stealing my purse?’

‘Fair go,’ the man whined as he struggled to his feet. ‘I were only tryin’ to earn an honest crust, me lord.’

‘I do not think the watch would consider assault and robbery an honest way to earn your living, rogue.’ Jared’s gaze narrowed suspiciously. He had pulled a small pistol from his greatcoat pocket and held it cocked and ready. ‘Or perhaps it wasn’t money you were after?’

‘He said I could keep whatever I found in your pockets,’ the man stated, eyeing Jared’s pistol nervously. ‘You ain’t goin’ ter shoot me, are yer?’

‘Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t,’ Jared said coldly. ‘If you try to escape custody, I would be well within my rights to shoot you in the leg. Such wounds turn bad in prison and you might die there, alone and untended.’

‘I might be of use to yer, me lord,’ the man said, beads of sweat on his brow as he looked into Jared’s eyes, because he didn’t doubt that he would shoot if provoked. ‘I could tell yer somethin’ that might save yer life.’

‘Indeed?’ Jared’s brows arched. ‘Why should I believe anything you say?’

‘It weren’t yer purse he wanted,’ the man said with a crafty leer. ‘He wants yer dead, me lord.’

‘Who wants me dead?’

‘I don’t rightly know his name, sir—but I could tell yer where he lives when he’s in town. He thought ’e had me fooled, but Harris Tyler knows a thing or two about fooling hisself.’

‘You are saying that someone paid you to crack me over the head?’

‘That be the truth of it, me lord. He said he didn’t care how I did it, but I was to kill yer ternight.’

‘And how did you know who you were to kill?’ Jared wasn’t sure whether to believe his tale. ‘Where did you meet this man?’

‘A gentleman, he were, me lord, just like you. He came looking fer me at the Crown and King in Cheapside; it’s where I hang out, see—and he told me there were twenty guineas in it if I done you in.’

‘He gave you my name?’

‘No, me lord, just took me to your hotel. We followed you here, sir. He told me to wait until you came out, as you’d likely be two parts to the wind and easy prey.’

‘He did, did he?’ Jared frowned. ‘Did he give you your money, rogue?’

‘No, sir. He said he would come to the Crown and King termorrow at eight of the evenin’, and give it me then.’

‘And yet you know where he lives?’

‘I know where he went after he left me ’ere,’ the man said. ‘I followed ’im, see—I like to know things about a cove who offers me money to do murder—but I can’t swear to it that it were ’is house. There were others comin’ and goin’.’