A Lady's Addiction (Honor Prevails Book 1) Read online

  “You brought your maid.”

  “Yes.” She lifted her chin. The crowd around her gave her courage.

  Franco took several steps until he stood in front of her. “Well then.”

  “This will be the end of it, Michael Bradley?”

  He looked surprised at her use of his name. He quickly recovered himself and replied with a grin, “Of course.”

  She had no idea if Devlyn or Wiggins were in the area. She hoped Devlyn had a plan to prevent Bradley from contacting her again. All she could do now was hand over her jewels, protecting Andrew being the most important thing.

  “Here you are.” She pulled a small velvet pouch out of her reticule and tossed it to him. “The jewelry is worth well over two thousand pounds.”

  “I’ll be the judge of their value.” Bradley caught the pouch. He looked inside and pulled out a diamond and sapphire ring, studied it and dropped it back into the bag. He reached in again and this time drew out an earring. “A matching set?”

  “Yes. The bag contains a necklace, bracelet, earrings and a ring.”

  “No sentimental items?” The man widened the opening of the pouch and looked inside, declining to bring the larger items into view.

  “Would it matter?” she replied.

  Michael shook his head. “Not in the least. I shall take my leave; until we meet again, Lady Stafford.”

  “I know your name. I don’t believe you will contact me again.” She spoke sternly to intimidate the man.

  “You may be right. Then again, my family cares little for me so I care little for their reputation.” Bradley looked about. “I see your lover isn’t in attendance. Left you on your own to deal with me, eh?”

  She replied, “By your request.”

  “So it was. If you try to contact anyone before I leave The Tower or discuss my activities with the police, I will have a chat with Lord Pickerel.” He tipped his hat and without another word turned away and walked toward the visitor’s entrance of The Tower.

  After Bradley had moved off a bit she called out to her maid. “Mary, come along.”

  Anna hurried in the direction Bradley had gone. Near the tower gate she lost sight of him as a crowd of children and nursemaids walked through the visitor’s entrance.

  On the cobblestone road next to the Thames she could see Bradley look about, possibly for transport. People and carts milled all around her. She moved closer and thought him so preoccupied with his task he wouldn’t notice if she followed him.

  Anna was only a few feet from Michael Bradley when he stopped walking and turned to look at her. His smile was menacing. “Really, Lady Stafford, I didn’t know you were this reckless. Care to come along with me?”

  “Not in the slightest,” she replied and backed away from the man.

  Bradley advanced, a hand outstretched. A moment later the expression on his face changed from a threatening leer to one of panic. He abruptly turned away from her and started running along the river. She spun around to see what had frightened him and the first thing she saw was Mary running towards her. Devlyn and Wiggins were close on Mary’s heels.

  Anna turned back to where Franco had been and gave chase. The blackmailer pushed through a crowd of people. She could see from her vantage point uphill he was headed toward a hackney carriage and closing on it. He slowed to look back and check on his pursuers and what happened next occurred in an instant. She was now so close to him she reached out to grab Michael’s coat and the man twisted away from her grasp.

  He stumbled away from her, tried to right himself and fell in the direction of the Thames. He went over the flimsy rope barrier. She stopped her movement just in time. She felt someone grasp one of her arms and was relieved to see Devlyn next to her.

  “I can’t swim!” Michael Bradley’s head went under the water for a moment as he thrashed wildly with his arms. The rapid current moved him quickly away from where she stood. Curious bystanders crowded around the sloping bank of the river.

  The banks of the Thames weren’t particularly steep. The man had been pulled away from the shore by the current. The nearest bridge was some distance away. There were no Thames River Police boat patrols in sight.

  Devlyn had released her arm. Now she looked at him for help. “What can we do?”

  “We need a rope.”

  Nothing within sight looked long enough to reach the drowning man. The river was not embanked. The lengths of rope used to cordon off the sloping banks of the river were little more than pieces of twine. They were not substantial enough to pull a man out of the water.

  Bradley rapidly drifted farther away, his head bobbing and his arms flailing at the water. They ran to keep up with him. His head went under again and he wasn’t seen for a moment.

  “He’s tiring out,” an older gentleman said.

  She could see that as well. Two policemen appeared with a rope. Franco was already quite a way down the river.

  “Are you going to jump in?” she asked one of the officers.

  “Not likely,” he answered. “I don’t have a desire to meet my maker today.”

  She looked at the two men beside her. Devlyn and Wiggins shook their heads.

  “We would drown,” Devlyn said.

  Bradley reappeared again although not for long. He splashed a moment before he vanished from sight. Their small group ran to the bridge farther down river. When they arrived, there was no sign of Michael Bradley.

  “He’s done for,” someone in the surrounding group of people said and there were numerous voices raised in agreement.

  Anna watched the surface of the river. She saw no evidence of Bradley’s whereabouts. She looked about her and realized Mary had caught up to the group.

  “Forgive me, my lady. I was trapped in a crowd.”

  “It is quite all right, Mary. There is nothing you could have done to help.”

  The maid eyed the two gentlemen standing by her mistress. Although she didn’t look happy about doing so, the girl curtsied to Devlyn. Mary gifted Wiggins a demure smile.

  Anna and her companions watched the surface of the Thames for several more minutes. There was still no sign of Michael Bradley.

  When one of the policemen asked the small crowd if anyone knew the drowned gentleman, the curious onlookers dispersed rapidly. The officers were left with Anna, Devlyn, Wiggins and Mary.

  “Sir?” the elder of the two policemen addressed Devlyn.

  “Inspector, I am Devlyn Maitlin. This is Lady Anna Stafford, her maid Mary and my valet Wiggins. The man in the river is Michael Bradley, youngest brother to Lord James Bradley.”

  The man scratched his chin and eyed the group before him.

  “What happened here?”

  She stepped forward. “The man was a pickpocket.”

  “A pickpocket?” the policeman queried. He looked as confused as Devlyn and the rest of their party.

  “He nicked some jewelry from my reticule and I caught him at it.” She glanced at her maid for confirmation. “Isn’t that what happened, Mary?”

  “Yes, my lady.” Mary bobbed to the policeman who had asked the questions. “That’s the way of it, sir. My mistress called him on it and when he ran away, we gave chase.”

  “Was the jewelry valuable?”

  “Not extremely so.” She sighed deeply, and hoped her expression looked grief-stricken. “The value the pieces held for me being entirely sentimental.”

  “And the gentlemen are involved?”

  She put a hand to her throat and answered, “Mr. Maitlin and his valet saw my distress and joined in the pursuit just as I was tiring.”

  The policeman merely nodded. His facial expression remained neutral, neither reflecting belief nor disbelief in her story. “There will have to be an inquiry.”

  “Of course, Inspector,” Devlyn replied, his tone soothing. He handed his card to the man. “I will visit the magistrate’s office later this afternoon. Right now, I must escort Lady Stafford to her carriage. I think the ladies have had enough ex
citement this afternoon.”

  “Oh yes, yes of course, sir.” The man nodded to Anna and Mary. “You will only be contacted if I need further statements for my report.”

  “Thank you for your assistance, officers.” She smiled brightly at both policemen.

  The officers took their leave. She placed a gloved hand on Devlyn’s extended arm. They walked back to The Tower. Wiggins and Mary followed behind.

  “Are you all right?” Devlyn asked her.

  “Yes, thank you. Despite the despicable way Michael Bradley chose to make a living, he didn’t deserve to drown,” she replied with a shudder.

  “Do you understand why I didn’t go in after him?”

  She sighed. “It would have been for nothing. The last thing we needed was your life in danger as well.”

  They walked in silence a moment.

  “A pickpocket?”

  “It was all I could think of. That information will be distressing enough for the baron. To mention blackmail would have tainted the reputation of Bradley’s innocent family members.”

  They continued to walk along the path by the river and toward Tower Hill where her carriage waited. She kept her face averted from the river.

  “If they find his body I will be advised of it,” Devlyn said softly.

  It was all over so quickly. Now she had no reason to keep him near.

  “Were the jewels very dear to you?”

  “No. They were a gift from Danforth. I wore them rarely as my coloring isn’t suitable for sapphire jewelry. The settings were ornate and rather too gaudy for my taste.”

  “I was under the impression an agent from the Home Office would keep an eye on you today.”

  “There was someone watching me,” she replied. “A tall blonde gentleman fell against one of the cages in the menagerie and was mauled by a panther.”

  The man beside her stopped walking. She moved her gaze from the path before her to Devlyn’s face.

  “Michael Bradley’s work, I don’t doubt. The man was taken for treatment?”

  She nodded. “Yes, one of the Beefeaters escorted him to a doctor located in the guard’s quarters.”

  “I need to find the agent and inform him of the latest developments.” He nodded to the assemblage of coaches before them. “Do you see your carriage?”

  She pointed to the black barouche. Silvers stood nearby the vehicle as he talked with some of the other drivers.

  They walked to the carriage and Devlyn assisted her onto the seat. Mary took her own seat, a sparkle in her eyes as she stared at Wiggins.

  “Lady Pickerel must be informed,” Devlyn said. His voice sounded preoccupied.

  “Yes. I had almost forgotten the whole reason for all this drama. One good thing came about today: Cecily’s secret is safe.”

  “Do not concern yourself. I will handle any further questions the authorities may have regarding Michael Bradley. Millicent will also have to be informed of Bradley’s death.” Devlyn stepped back and bowed. His gaze returned to her face. “I will contact you later this evening.”

  When she thought Devlyn would walk away, he stepped to the front of the barouche. “Mary, I applaud your courage in accompanying your mistress today. Your loyalty and care for Lady Stafford are most admirable.”

  The maid looked taken aback by Devlyn’s kind words and merely nodded. Devlyn executed a deep bow before taking his leave.

  Anna watched as Devlyn and Wiggins walked away, headed ostensibly for the Beefeater quarters nearby. A man had drowned. The day remained bright. Passersby went on their merry way.

  Devlyn had gone. His last words to her had been spoken as reassurance. She knew he would have said more had they been alone. Right now, she had other matters to attend to before she could think about her relationship with Devlyn Maitlin.

  Anna decided she would visit Cecily in person. She would send a missive to ensure Lady Pickerel would be at home that evening. A bath and a meal were her first order of business.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Devlyn walked away from Anna, his thoughts in turmoil. He hadn’t handled their parting or anything else since they’d met, particularly well. When he’d seen Anna running after Michael Bradley his heart had been in his throat. The man could have dragged her along with him as protection. Or worse, she could have fallen into the river with him.

  Once the danger to Anna was over, he’d concentrated on the job at hand to prevent himself from taking her in his arms and making a spectacle of them both in public.

  A blonde man appeared near Traitor’s Gate, his arm heavily bandaged. Devlyn approached the man, Wiggins in his wake.

  “Lady Stafford is quite all right.”

  The blonde man blinked at him before he asked, “I beg your pardon?”

  “The woman you were assigned to look after is safely on her way home.”

  The man asked tentatively, “And where is Michael Bradley?”

  “Dead,” he replied. “He drowned in the Thames.”

  The man from the Home Office looked pale. His breathing was unsteady. “I lost consciousness for a short time. The doctor told me it was due to blood loss.”

  “And the guards allowed you to get up?” he asked sharply.

  “The undersecretary told me heads would roll if anything happened to Lady Stafford. He said Mr. Maitlin would shoot me if the lady were harmed.”

  “I wouldn’t have shot you,” he replied, “although you might have ended up in the river with Bradley.”

  The man became even paler if such a thing was possible. He thought the agent might faint. By silent agreement Wiggins stepped forward and the two men braced the injured man between them.

  Devlyn stated the obvious, “I think you need further medical attention.”

  * * * * *

  The blonde man, Henry Day, insisted he return to the undersecretary’s office before he would agree to seek additional medical care.

  Joseph Planta listened to the man’s verbal report before he sent him to see a physician. Wiggins had opted to stay outside the building with his employer’s carriage.

  “You are satisfied with the outcome of the affair?” the undersecretary asked Devlyn once Henry Day had exited his office.

  “Michael Bradley’s secrets died with him. As I recall, you weren’t too keen on my putting him on a ship bound for the West Indies.”

  “That course of action might have necessitated quite a lot of paperwork on my behalf,” the older man rejoined. He took a pinch of snuff from an elaborate gold snuffbox on his desk. “Devlyn?”

  “No, thank you, sir.”

  The two men sat in companionable silence for a few moments.

  “Why did you assign Wiggins to me?”

  Planta smiled. “You both have a lot in common.”

  He’d waited the undersecretary out often enough. Did the man really think his godson would be satisfied with a cryptic remark?

  “Like you, the gentleman decided he needed to leave England for a while. I am not at liberty to tell you anything else about Wiggins.”

  “I understand. His secrets are his own.” He stood up and Planta rose as well. “Thank you for your help with Michael Bradley.”

  “And Lady Stafford?” the undersecretary asked.

  “She is now free to go on with her life.”

  The older man cleared his throat. “There has been gossip, my boy. I never wanted to ask. Such a delicate subject…”

  “You refer to the rumors about the physical results of my accident. Unfortunately, the stories are true.”

  “I am sorrier than I can say. I wish it were not so.”

  “As do I,” he replied.

  “Lord Phipps at the Home Office needs a secretary. We could always use your skills as an interpreter. I don’t know what your plans are.”

  “I need to speak with Cameron before I decide what to do next,” he replied.

  Planta nodded. “Give my best to your brother and to your mother.”

  “Thank you again for your hel
p, sir.”

  The day had turned cloudy by the time Devlyn returned to his town carriage to see Wiggins up on the box with the driver.

  “Take me to the Thames Police Office on Wapping High Street,” he said to his driver before he entered the coach.

  Letting Anna go was the only honorable thing to do. Devlyn Maitlin would always be considered an oddity in society. Anna could live down her previous reputation if she wasn’t aligned with a self-serving, infertile, second son. He should call on her that very evening and wish her well in the future.

  He would speak with the Thames River Police to make sure Anna wouldn’t be involved if there were a formal inquiry into the accidental drowning of Michael Bradley. Afterwards he intended to find Millicent and tell her ‘Franco’ was no longer a threat to her or anyone else. The family and its reputation were now safe. Tomorrow he would ride to Kent. It was time he faced Cameron.

  When he returned to The Grange, Thomas informed him the viscountess was in the drawing room. Millicent was in her bedchamber. He lost no time in telling his mother of the day’s events. When he completed that task, he dispatched a servant to summon his sister-in-law to the drawing room.

  Millicent took a seat across from him. She nodded to the dowager comfortably ensconced in her late husband’s beloved armchair.

  “What do you want from me now?” Millicent asked with a frown.

  “Michael Bradley is no longer a threat to anyone in this family.” He watched Millicent closely for a reaction to his words.

  “He isn’t?” she asked, her body held in rigid lines. “How can you be so sure?”

  “He drowned in the Thames this afternoon.” As he had already informed his mother of recent events involving Michael Bradley, the only gasp in the room came from his sister-in-law.

  “Drowned?” Millicent’s face had gone white.

  “Apparently the man couldn’t swim. He fell into the Thames and we couldn’t reach him.”

  “No, he couldn’t swim.” His sister-in-law’s face was devoid of all expression. She stood up slowly, not making eye contact with either him or his mother. After a moment she said, “I must return to my bedchamber. I have to leave for a dinner party within the hour.”