The Outcast's Redemption (The Infamous Arrandales) Read online

  ‘Mayhap you thought the necklace would recompense you for that.’

  ‘I tell you I didn’t steal it.’

  ‘But you know who did.’

  ‘I don’t know anything. Miss Florence dismissed me early on the night she died, but when I left her the necklace was in her jewel box. I saw it. The next time I went to her room it was missing. ’Tis the truth.’ She waved her hand at them. ‘You can leave now. I’ve nothing else to tell you.’

  Wolf shook his head. ‘You know more than you are saying, Annie.’

  ‘No, I don’t.’ She wrapped her arms around her skinny frame. ‘I told you, I don’t know anything. Now go away and leave me in peace.’

  She sniffed, staring doggedly at the floor.

  ‘Very well, we’ll go.’ Wolf hesitated, his fingers tapping thoughtfully on the table. ‘My lawyer is presently arranging pensions for staff at Arrandale who were turned off when the house was closed up. I will instruct them to add you to the list.’

  Her eyes flew to him, a mixture of hope and suspicion in her ravaged face.

  ‘Are you trying to bribe me?’

  ‘You will not be paid one penny until you have told me the truth about the night my wife died.’

  ‘Let him help you, Mrs Meesden,’ Grace urged her, coming up to the table.

  ‘What’s it to you?’

  The question was flung at her with such malice that Grace flinched, but she kept her voice calm as she replied.

  ‘I want to see justice done and I would like to see you move on from this place.’

  ‘Justice? That won’t bring my mistress back. And you...’ her hate-filled eyes fixed on Wolf again ‘...you are as guilty as anyone. No.’ She hunched on her chair. ‘My mistress’s secrets will go with me to the grave.’

  ‘Even the name of her killer?’ said Wolf.

  Grace saw a flicker of fear in the woman’s eyes.

  ‘And what of the necklace?’ he went on. ‘Who stole your mistress’s diamonds?’

  With a cry that did not sound human the woman flew out of her seat.

  ‘No one stole the diamonds!’ She stood behind the little table, her thin chest rising and falling with each angry breath. ‘Get out before I screams the house down. That wouldn’t look good for you and Miss Charitable Duncombe here, now would it?’

  ‘Think it over, Annie.’ Wolf moved to the door. ‘I know you could help me and you would. You can leave a message for me at the—’

  ‘I’ll see you hang first.’

  ‘Surely you do not mean that,’ exclaimed Grace and felt the full force of those malevolent eyes turned upon her.

  ‘Oh, yes, I do. Miss Florence never loved him. She shouldn’t have married him. She would’ve been happier with—’ Her voice broke and she dragged up the corner of her apron to wipe her eyes. ‘A curse on all men! Go away, the both of you. Get out.’

  Grace reached into her reticule.

  ‘I hope you will reconsider Mr Arrandale’s offer,’ she said quietly. ‘But whatever you decide, this may help.’

  She placed a silver coin on the table and the woman stared at it. Grace stepped away, wondering whether she had offended her even more.

  Annie Meesden nodded to the parcel Grace was carrying. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘A gown for mending,’ said Grace. ‘It is only a torn hem, but I thought it might allay suspicions if I brought something.’

  The woman put out her hand.

  ‘If you leave it I’ll see to it, in exchange for your half-crown.’ She added, when Grace gave her the parcel, ‘Come back the day after tomorrow and I’ll have it ready. Now get out.’

  Without another word Grace and Wolf left the room.

  * * *

  Grace and Wolf did not speak until they were in the carriage and on their way back to Hans Place, then Wolf let out a long breath.

  ‘You were right when you said she dislikes men.’

  ‘And you in particular.’ Grace clasped her hands together. ‘Will she help, do you think?’

  ‘Perhaps, when she has thought it over.’

  Grace frowned, going back over everything she had seen and heard in Leg Alley. She said slowly, ‘She is frightened, but I do not think she stole the necklace.’

  ‘Then how did she find the money to set up her own business? Unlike Urmston, there is nothing to verify her story.’

  ‘I do not know, but you saw that rather than accept charity she has taken my gown to repair. Her appearance, too, is in her favour. Despite the squalor of the house her room was clean, and her cap and apron were spotless. I find it hard to believe she is dishonest. And besides, she said no one had stolen the necklace. That was an odd thing to say, do you not agree?’

  ‘There is that.’

  Grace sighed. ‘Whatever the truth of it, I do not like to think of her living in such penury. Could you not instruct your lawyers to pay her a pension immediately?’

  ‘And if I do that, how am I supposed to persuade her to confide in me?’

  ‘You forget, she said she would see you hang, first.’

  ‘She may well do so.’

  Grace flinched at his savage laugh.

  ‘Pray do not jest about that.’

  He reached out and covered her hands for a moment with one of his own. It was large and strong and she had to resist the temptation to cling on to it.

  He turned his head to look down at her. ‘You would have me pay an annuity to a woman who clearly hates me?’

  ‘Your wife left her nothing. That was not kind.’

  ‘My wife was never kind. Very well, I will visit Baylis in the morning and instruct him.’ His brows went up. ‘Now what is the matter, madam?’

  ‘We have the carriage at our disposal, should we not do it now?’

  ‘No. Emphatically not. Your aunt is anxious enough about your coming here today without delaying your return.’

  ‘You could drop me at Hans Place first. I am sure my aunt would not object to you using the carriage for such a good cause.’ She paused a moment before adding, ‘It would then be done, sir, and you need not worry about it.’

  A moment’s silence then his breath hissed out and he gave a ragged laugh.

  ‘By heaven but you are persistent, Miss Duncombe! Very well, I will impose upon your aunt’s kindness and borrow the carriage to call at the offices of Baylis & Thistle today. There, will that do?’

  ‘Why, yes, sir, that will do very well.’ She could not help smiling. ‘And perhaps you would like to join us for dinner, afterwards?’

  ‘Thank you, but I am engaged to dine with my brother and his wife. We have a great deal to catch up on.’

  ‘Oh, of course. That is perfectly understandable.’

  Grace tried to keep the wistful note from her voice as she enquired when they might expect to see him again.

  Wolf did not reply and she felt the sudden tension in the air, as if harsh reality must be faced.

  He said at last, ‘It would be safer for you and your aunt if I did not call again.’

  ‘We are too involved now for you to leave us without a word.’

  ‘Then I shall contact you, when I have any news.’ He turned away to look out of the window. ‘Have you ordered your wedding clothes?’

  ‘Not all of them. My aunt is taking me to Bond Street tomorrow.’

  ‘And when do you return to Arrandale?’

  ‘In two weeks.’ Grace bit her lip, thinking of the latest letter from Hindlesham. It was polite, cheerful and expressed Loftus’s wish for her speedy return, but there was nothing of the lover in the carefully penned lines and his news seemed dull and colourless compared to the past few weeks in London.

  ‘I shall be glad to go back,’ she remarked, as much to convince herself as her co
mpanion. ‘I fear too much time spent in the metropolis could be injurious to one’s character.’

  As could too much time spent in Wolf Arrandale’s company.

  The carriage turned into Hans Place and drew up at Aunt Eliza’s door. Wolf leapt out.

  He said, as he handed her down, ‘I do not believe you are in danger of being corrupted by the metropolis, Miss Duncombe.’

  She stumbled and his grip tightened on her fingers. To steady herself, Grace put her free hand against his chest, it was hard as rock beneath the silk of his waistcoat. He was so close she could smell him, an alluring trace of scents that made her want to cling to him. Or to run away.

  ‘On the contrary, sir, I think I am in very great danger of being corrupted!’

  Oh, heavens, had she really said that? The heat rushed to her face, she dared not look at him, but snatching her hand from his grasp she picked up her skirts and fled.

  * * *

  Grace went directly to her room. She did not ring for Janet, but paced the floor, confused by the conflict warring inside her. Wolf Arrandale was dangerous, but there was no doubt she enjoyed his company. When he looked at her she found it was all too easy to bury any doubts about his innocence. But even though she believed he was no criminal he was not a good man. He drew her like a moth to a flame and there was only one way that could end.

  And she could not ignore the price on his head. The longer she and Aunt Eliza continued to assist him, the deeper they were drawn into the dangerous world of subterfuge. With a little cry of frustration she made a very unladylike fist and punched it into her palm. Before meeting Wolf she had been a truthful, respectable parson’s daughter. She had never lied, never been kissed.

  Never lived.

  ‘No!’ She stopped her perambulations, head up, a new determination building inside her. She had a good life waiting for her. As Lady Braddenfield she could continue her father’s work of looking after the poor, nursing the sick. She could be a wife and mother. It was what she had been born and bred to be. A good woman.

  * * *

  Grace made her way to dinner that night, resolved upon her course of action. This new restlessness, this longing for excitement and adventure, it would pass, given time. Naturally, she hoped Wolfgang Arrandale would find a way to prove his innocence, but she would play no further part in his life. However, when Jenner brought her a note and she saw her name written in a bold scrawling hand she knew it was from Wolf and she almost snatched it from the tray.

  The message was short, merely telling her that a small regular pension would be paid to their mutual acquaintance and that the lawyer was writing to the recipient to inform her of the details.

  I would she could know that she has you to thank for this kindness, but that is not possible. Not yet.

  W.

  She looked at the single letter that passed for a signature. There was no address, nothing incriminating and no polite meaningless phrases of the writer being hers to command. Nor was there any indication that he would write again. She folded the note carefully and tucked it away. It was very likely the next she heard of Wolf Arrandale would be through the newspapers.

  * * *

  Wolf enjoyed the evening with his brother and sister-in-law more than he had expected. Richard was eager to learn how he had lived for the past ten years, but he took the little information that Wolf offered and asked for nothing more. They discussed politics, family, the lusty baby boy sleeping peacefully upstairs in the nursery. And the future of Arrandale.

  ‘You talk as if you will never be master there,’ Richard objected, when Wolf told him of the measures he wanted to see put in place. ‘I know I have your power of attorney, but that is only a temporary measure, until you can clear your name. In fact, we should start on that immediately. We will find the best lawyers to represent you. And our great-aunt Sophia, Lady Hune, will help us, I am sure. She has connections.’

  Wolf gave a faint, derisory smile.

  ‘Do you tell me you have not already tried to prove my innocence?’

  ‘You know I have, but that was before we had your testimony.’

  ‘And what good do you think that will do?’ Wolf replied bitterly. ‘No, I have considered everything. The only witnesses to Florence’s death are those who heard us arguing on the night she died and then saw me kneeling over her body with her blood on my hands.’

  ‘But you have found your wife’s maid, have you not? Perhaps she knows something.’

  ‘I am sure she does, but whether her testimony would acquit or damn me I cannot say. I will have to talk to her again.’

  Lady Phyllida had been sitting silently beside her husband, but now she leaned forward.

  ‘You must have a care, sir.’

  ‘I am always careful.’

  ‘Not careful enough.’ She handed him a folded newspaper. ‘There is a piece here about you.’

  Wolf read the report, his frown deepening.

  ‘It claims you have been sighted in town,’ said Richard. ‘It also says the reward still stands. With such an incentive to find you, it can only be a matter of time before posters for your arrest are seen on the streets again.’

  ‘You are quite right.’ Wolf threw the paper aside. ‘My guess is that Urmston has a hand in this. For all his weasel words to me I believe he wants me hanged.’

  ‘What will you do?’ asked Phyllida.

  Wolf shrugged. ‘If it was not for my daughter I would return to France now.’

  ‘And leave Arrandale without a master?’

  ‘You could fulfil that role, Richard.’

  ‘Dam—dash it all, Wolf, I do not want it!’

  Phyllida laid a hand on her husband’s arm as she turned to address Wolf.

  ‘Let us help you, sir, for your daughter’s sake.’ She added quietly, ‘Little Florence is a lovely child and she looks a great deal like you.’

  ‘You have seen her?’ said Wolf eagerly.

  ‘Yes.’ Phyllida nodded. ‘We have been to Chantreys to visit the Davenports.’

  ‘And...’ Wolf bit his lip ‘...is she happy?’

  ‘She would be happier if she knew her papa, I am sure.’

  Wolf stared at his sister-in-law. He did not want to involve them, but what choice did he have? At last he nodded.

  ‘Very well, Richard. Write to Lady Hune, let her contact her lawyers, but if they say there is no hope then I will leave England. I would prefer to end my life in exile than on the gallows.’

  * * *

  It was gone midnight when he left Richard’s house and hailed a hackney coach. He instructed the driver to drop him on the corner of Bench Lane. Halfway along the narrow passage the lights of the tavern were still burning. Muffled in his greatcoat and with his hat pulled low over his brow, Wolf entered and sought out the landlord. A short while later he was making his way to his lodgings, a folded note in his pocket and the first stirrings of hope that his luck was about to change.

  Chapter Eight

  Grace planned to spend the next day shopping for bride clothes with her aunt. She was obliged to remind Aunt Eliza several times that gowns such as those described in the society pages were not at all suitable.

  ‘I am marrying the squire of Hindlesham, ma’am, not the Prince of Wales,’ she declared over breakfast, when her aunt was once again poring over the latest newspaper to be delivered. ‘You have already squandered enough of your money on me and I would not have you waste more buying gowns I will never wear.’

  ‘Oh, very well.’ Aunt Eliza sighed, closing the newspaper and placing it on the table beside her. ‘But you must have a new silk for the wedding day, then you will need bonnets and reticules and a new redingote. Not to mention nightclothes.’

  Grace concentrated fiercely on her breakfast. She did not want to think about nightcloth
es. She was resolved to do her wifely duty, but the idea of being intimate with Loftus was quite, quite different from the excitement she felt when she thought of Wolfgang. She closed her eyes. It could not last, this foolish infatuation that she had conceived. She did believe that. She did.

  Grace was suddenly aware that a silence had fallen over the breakfast room. Opening her eyes, she saw her aunt staring in consternation at the newspaper.

  She said sharply, ‘Aunt Eliza?’

  Silently her aunt passed the paper across the table. Grace looked at the closely printed words and felt a chill as one paragraph stood out from the others. It was slyly phrased, calling Wolf ‘Mr W— A— of A—le’, but there could be no mistake. There could not be many men charged with murdering their wife ten years ago and stealing a valuable necklace. And a reward. Two hundred guineas in exchange for a man’s life.

  ‘Oh, my dear.’ Aunt Eliza’s anguished whisper brought Grace’s head up.

  ‘What can we do?’ she asked bleakly. ‘I do not even know how to reach him.’

  Grace wanted to stay at home, in the hope that Wolf might call and she could warn him, but her aunt did not agree.

  ‘We are not expecting him and your nerves would be in shreds by the end of the day, my love. Let us instead write a note for Mr Peregrine. Jenner will see that he gets it, should he call. Trust me, my love, we are much better distracting ourselves in Bond Street. Now, you take Nelson for his morning walk and I will order the carriage.’

  Grace wondered how Aunt Eliza could think of shopping at such a time, but a little reflection persuaded her that there was nothing to be gained by remaining in Hans Place. However, it was difficult to concentrate on silk or muslin or lace when she was constantly looking about her in the hope of seeing a very tall, dark gentleman on the street.

  * * *

  They returned to Hans Place to discover there had been no callers during their absence. Grace tried to hide her anxiety as she and her aunt went over their purchases, checking to see if there was anything else she required.