"Aye."
"And the next day?"
"Aye."
"But not that night?"
"Nay." She looked surprised that he could tell when she had been herself and when not, but he was not about to explain that it was not actually him but his body that had known the difference. Every time Charlottewhat a horrendous namehad played Beth, he had been drawn to her like a moth to a flame.
Just as he had been drawn to Charles only when Charlie wasthe one wearing the breeches.
It was damned relieving, that. At least he knew there was nothing peculiar about him. He was suddenly quite happy with himself and the world around him.
His feelings were all sorted out now. It was Charlie. Charlie he had desired, Charlie he had wanted, Charlie he found charming, and Charlie he had loved. The wicked little femme had really pulled one over on him. She looked damned good in breeches. Mayhap he should have her wear them once in a while to "realized Carland was headed here, we headed directly back."
Radcliffe blinked his less than sterling thoughts aside as he caught the end of Beth's explanations. He had missed quite a bit of them while imagining the things he would like to do with Charlie. The important parts, he suspected with irritation as he turned to her now. "What did you say?"
"I said we headed directly back."
"No, before that."
"Oh." She frowned. "About Carland?" When he nodded, she explained, "Well, he and Uncle Henry were in the same inn as us last night. He didn't see me, luckily, but Tomas overheard them talking. From what they said, we gathered that they knew we were in London and some plans were afoot to bring us to them.
Tomas and I did not even stay the night in the end. We left right away and returned."
"Why did you rush right back? If you and Mowbray are married, all is well.
Your uncle cannot force you to many Carland if you are already married."
"Nay. Not me. Charlie."
"Charlie?" He paled at that. "But you two said "We could hardly tell you that Charles was to marry Carland," she pointed out logically. "And we feared that had we told you I was to marry Segin, you may have been less than sympathetic. After all, at the time, we'd heard nothing derogatory about him except that he was old. You may have stopped our attempted escape. You may even have turned us in to our uncle."
"Charlie with Carland?" His honor was obvious. "My God, he would never put up with her sass. She would be dead within the day!"
Beth nodded solemnly. "That is why we returned. To help her flee."
"Flee?" He looked as if the word were alien to him, then stood up suddenly.
"Nay. There is no need for her to flee. We are to marry."
Beth blinked at that. "You are?"
"Aye. I told her this morning."
"You told her'?" She frowned with concern.
"Aye," he answered distractedly, his thoughts on all she had said. Charles was really Charlotte, and she had gone somewhere with Bessie this morning and had not returned. Did her uncle already have her? Cursing, he jumped to his feet and moved to the door of the library. He tugged it open, then paused, his eyebrows raised. Stokes, whom he had been about to call, was standing right there, looking as dignified as a butler could when caught with his ear to the door.
"Aye, my lord?" the man murmured calmly, straightening.
"Did Charles have anything with him when he left?"
Stokes cleared his throat. "I presume you mean besides the young lady?"
"I mean something such as baggage," Radcliffe bit out impatiently.
"Nay, my lord. They had no baggage."
Radcliffe relaxed slightly at that. "Did he mention where they were going?"
"Nay, my lord. She did not tell me where she was headed. But"
"But?" Radcliffe coaxed when the older man hesitated.
"Well, my lord, cook helped Lady Charles and the young woman dress.
Perhaps she overheard something of use."
"Cook? Why was Bessie not assisting him?"
"I suspect that may be because Bessie was the veiled woman with Lady Charles."
"Of course," Elizabeth exclaimed. "It must have been Bessie."
Radcliffe nodded solemnly, then ordered, "Fetch cook to me."
"There's no need to fetch me, m'lord, I'm here." Those anxious words made Stokes turn sideways to reveal the woman in question standing a foot or so behind him, wringing a cloth between her work-worn hands fretfully. "I was comin' to tell ye as how I was worried about the lady and Bessie. Lady Charlie said as how they shouldn't be any later than noon and it's well nigh supper now. I've been frettin' and stewin' all day over the two of 'em. I knew somethin' was afoot."
"Where did they go? Did she tell you?"
"Nay. But" Sighing, she grimaced and confessed, "There was a piece of paper on the table and I kept sneakin' peeks at it, trying to find out where they was going."
"And?" Radcliffe snapped, unintentionally intimidating the woman with his ferocious expression.
"And" She paused, frowned, licked her lips, then shook her head with irritation. "It was an address in Change Alley."
"Change Alley?" Elizabeth murmured blankly.
"By the docks," Tomas explained while Radcliffe cursed under his breath.
"Where the brokers go to invest in ships."
"Where in Change Alley?" Radcliffe asked. "It was an inn," she murmured unhappily. "Which inn?"
Her brow furrowed in concentration and she tipped her head back to squint at the ceiling as if expecting it to be written there, but finally she shook her head unhappily. "It's on the tip of my tongue, but" She shook her head again helplessly.
"Think, woman!" Radcliffe snapped, too worried to be patient.
"You are scaring her, my lord," Stokes pointed out. "That will hardly help her recall." Nudging his master out of the way, he clasped her shoulders gently and bestowed a sweet smile on her. "Now, just relax, love, and concentrate.
The paper was on the table. You peeked at it and read ?"
"I peeked at it and read"she was squinting again"I read something-something inn. Change Alley. What was it now ?"
Radcliffe shifted in frustration. "We do not have time for this."
"Give her a minute, my lord. She will remember." Stokes gave her an encouraging smile and nod as he added, "Won't you, love?"
Her smile in response was confident. "Oh, aye. I'll remember. I made a special note to myself to remember, so I'll remember eventually. Now, if I were to see the name, 'twould spark my memory fer sure. Mayhap if we just rode down there"
When Radcliffe went still at the suggestion, Tomas murmured, "Mayhap that would be a good idea, Radcliffe."
Before he could agree, Elizabeth suddenly murmured, "Mayhap the note is still upstairs." Turning to the cook, she asked, "What was Charles wearing this mom?"
"Black breeches, a white shirt, and a dove gray waistcoat. She said as how it was solemn and blackmail was a solemn business."
"Aye. I shall see if the letter was left behind," she announced and whirled about, her skirts flying as she hurried from the room.
Chapter Sixteen
Charlie's head was throbbing, her brain slipping and crashing about inside her skull like loose livers in a bowl. It was a most uncomfortable sensation.
Opening her eyes slowly, she grimaced as the light assaulted her, and squinted them closed briefly before trying again.
"Yer awake!" That relieved gasp from somewhere above her head was enough to send her eyes flying shut with a moan once again. "My lord? I mean, my lady?
Are you all right?"
"I am alive," Charlie muttered grimly, not sure if it was a good thing or a bad one at that point. Or even if it was a state that was likely to remain. Her head was positively killing her. Reaching up tentatively to prod the area, she was dismayed to find her skull still intact and a bump all she had to show for her pain. There wasn't even a chop of dried blood to show for the agony she had suffered. "Amazing."
"What is, my lady?" Bessie asked curiously at the thready word from Charlie.
"Nothing," she murmured on a sigh and forced her eyes open once again.
She was lying on the floor of a carriage, her head resting in Bessie's lap. The girl was curled up on the floor with her, unconcerned for the care of the gown she wore.
"How long have I been unconscious?" she asked, easing to a sitting position.
"I am not sure. Two, mayhap three hours."
"Two or three hours?" Charlie gasped in dismay, then dragged herself up to sit on the bench seat and peer out of the window. Bucolic scenes of country life were passing by the window. Trees, cows, and sheep, along with the occasional hut all whizzed by under a bright blue sky clear of all but the fluffiest of pure white clouds. They were definitely far and away from the smog and stench of the city.
Cursing under her breath, she glanced at the worried girl beside her.
Bessie had discarded her hat, her long red hair had given up its tight bun and now hung down her back in a tumble. "Did you overhear anything about where we are headed?"
"Nay. They merely picked you up and bundled us both into the carriage. I was so worried about you, I did not pay much attention to them once the door closed. I am sorry."
Charlie waved her apology away. How could she be upset that the girl was more concerned about her health than about their destination? "Are we locked in?"
Biting her lip, Bessie glanced toward the door, then back helplessly. "I am not sure, but I do not think so."
Charlie started to nod at that, then caught herself before committing the undoubtedly painful movement and sighed. "You do not know if all of them came with us then either, I suppose?"
"Nay," the girl admitted with a disheartened sigh.
" 'Tis all right," Charlie assured her quickly. " 'Tis easy enough to find out."
Bessie raised an eyebrow at that, then bit her lip anxiously when Charlie shifted closer to the window and stuck her head out.
The breeze that hit her face was soothing. Charlie inhaled deeply, her eyes closed, then opened them again and leaned farther out to peer toward the front of the carriage. From this angle, she could just see an arm and the back of a hip. She couldn't even tell if it was the driver's hip or someone else's, but judging by how close that hip was to the edge of the driver's wide bench seat, she would guess that the driver was not alone up there.
"Get your head in or I'll knock it off!"
At that, Charlie whipped her head around to peer toward the back of the carriage, her eyes widening in amazement when she spied the man hanging from the back left footman's stand. It was the behemoth who had attacked her. She pulled her head in at once and sank back onto the seat. She had her answer now. At least two of the three attackers now rode the carriage with them and the driver.
What good that information was, she didn't know quite yet.
"She must have taken the note with her," Beth said as she hurried back into the room, slightly out of breath from rushing about.
Radcliffe blinked, not from the news, but from her transformation. Gone was the dress and fancy, upswept hairstyle. Even her br**sts were gone. Beth was now "Charles," her hair covered by another of those awful wigs Charlie had been sporting since Radcliffe had first met the pair, her br**sts hidden somewhere beneath the gray overcoat she now wore with black pants.
"Amazing," Stokes murmured, drawing Radcliffe's gaze.
Taking in the older man's bemused expression, Radcliffe grimaced and sighed, knowing that his own expression was not much different. He did not know which was more amazing, the fact that the two sisters were most definitely identical, how different yet similar Elizabeth looked as each character, or the fact that everyone had been fooled for so long. Her stride, though a little longer and more confident, was definitely still a feminine stride, and her hand gestures were as well. How had they neglected to figure out that the pair were twinsand girls?
"I thought being in a male garb might be more practical," Beth explained.
"But Charlie is 'Charles' right now," Tomas pointed out and she nodded.
"Aye. Trust me. I have the sense that my pretending to be her may come in handy at some point." Turning to cook, she asked, "Have you recalled the inn's name?"
When Mis. Hartshair gave an apologetic shake of her head, Beth patted her arm reassuringly. "I am sure that once we get there you shall recall." She glanced toward the men questioningly. "Shall we go?"
"Aye." Radcliffe strode forward."We shall have to take your carriage, Mowbray.
I sent my driver on an errand with my carriage. He will not be back for hours."
"Oh, no!" Tomas said. .
Radcliffe peered from Beth's horrified face to Mowbray's grim one. "What?"
"I sent my driver home to bed," Tomas admitted unhappily. "He had driven for two days and a night straight without a wink of rest. He was falling asleep on his bench. I thought sure we could get a ride home with your driver."
"Mayhap Fred has not yet left," Stokes murmured hopefully of Radcliffe's driver.
He rushed off to check.
"All will be well." Charlie roused herself from her anxious thoughts at that calm announcement from Bessie. She had been searching her mind for a way out of this mess. Unfortunately, she wasn't coming up with any brilliant notions just yet. Of course, she wasn't planning to tell Bessie that. She had got the girl into this and was determined to get her out. Preferably in one piece. Not that the other girl appeared worried. The maid was looking as serene as a cow, Charlie noted with some irritation. Didn't she know the fix they were in?
For God's sake, they had been kidnapped! "Is there something you know that I do not?" Charlie asked suspiciously, and the other girl's eyebrows rose slightly at the question.