“Actually,” Drake said, “in this instance, I’m confident that the political sensitivity of the crime will work in your favor, ensuring that nothing will be said publicly about what’s occurred or about any of those involved.”
Toby arched his brows. “Not even Rattling?”
Drake tipped his head. “I wouldn’t like to guess how things will go for him. While I’m perfectly certain he’ll keep an appointment with the hangman in the not-too-distant future, what his route to that meeting will be and what his family will be told aren’t my decisions to make.”
Silence fell, but it wasn’t restful—not yet. They were all still grappling with the implications and reverberations of what had occurred and who the mastermind had proved to be. According to Drake and Louisa, Rattling was extremely well-connected and had been making his way up the parliamentary tree. As Drake had feared, regardless of his scheme’s success, Rattling would have represented a serious vulnerability for the government, given he would have been beholden to foreign crime lords in order to conceal his involvement.
Still openly concerned for Ellen, Robbie asked her to explain what had happened between her and Rose.
As most of the others also looked interested, Ellen recounted her story from the moment Rose had inveigled her to leave the party to finding Rose’s body, then leaving the folly with Louisa to return to the house. Louisa asked what happened after she’d escaped, and Ellen found herself continuing her tale to her final action with the pail in the stable.
Mr. Kirkpatrick was shocked to learn that Rose had known the combination to his safe. Toby had spoken with Rose’s dresser, Archer, and confirmed that, as Ellen had suspected, Archer had spotted the package of notes when, at Rose’s direction given on the evening of the second card party, late that afternoon, Archer had asked Mr. Kirkpatrick to retrieve Rose’s pearls from the safe. Subsequently, while dressing Rose that evening, Archer had passed on the information that the package was there.
Earlier, a search of Rose’s gown had yielded a carefully printed note, bearing the half seal she’d described, appointing the folly as the meeting place to which to bring the exchanged notes and setting the time for the meeting as two hours past midnight.
“So she broke her pearls and tricked you into going with her into the study, then she knocked you out, opened the safe, took the package of notes, and ran to the folly.” Julia sounded as if she couldn’t believe her stepmother would do anything so desperate.
“I believe,” Drake said, “that Rose intended to convince whoever came for the notes to take her with them. Essentially, she saw handing over the counterfeit notes as the way to buy her freedom.”
“Hmm.” Ellen wasn’t proud of having been tricked, much less being clouted over the head with a heavy ledger, but… Frowning, she looked at Drake. “What happened to the notes? Rattling didn’t have the package with him.”
A small smile curved Drake’s lips. “Rattling unwrapped the fake notes and stuffed them into his pockets. In terms of capturing him with incriminating evidence too definite to be argued around actually on his person, I couldn’t have asked for better.”
Louisa looked at Ellen. “I’m still feeling very unhappy that I had to run off and leave you in that devil’s clutches.”
“And I,” Drake said, smiling sincerely at Ellen, “confess to nothing but admiration for how you managed from the time Rattling first got his hands on you to the moment in the stable when you hobbled him with that pail—first to last, that was laudable quick thinking.”
With the remnants of the fear, anger, and determination that had seen her through those moments lingering in her blood, Ellen lightly shrugged. “I just did what seemed best at the time.”
Finding herself the cynosure of all eyes, she sought to divert everyone’s attention. “Actually,” she said, frowning slightly, “one of the things I still don’t understand was how Christopher”—she looked at him—“and Drake came to be out in the gardens when I followed Rose outside.”
Christopher looked at Drake. “You’ll have to reward those men of yours.”
“The two helping me with Nigel?” Carter asked.
Christopher nodded. “They reported that, among the guests, they’d recognized several youthful scions of noble houses they wouldn’t have expected to see in Kent in this season. More, those gentlemen hadn’t attended the earlier card parties.”
“The implication,” Drake explained, “was that Rattling had already cast his net wider, possibly with the notion of creating situations he could later exploit for blackmail.”
Ellen’s eyes narrowed. “He truly was a rotter.”
“Indeed. However, to answer your question,” Drake continued, “I decided I needed to observe those unexpected young noblemen myself. Christopher said it was possible to see into the drawing room and ballroom from outside while remaining hidden, and he accompanied me.”
“We were rounding the house,” Christopher said, “heading toward the front while keeping to the trees’ shadows, when we heard footsteps running away”—he met Ellen’s eyes—“then we heard your footsteps following.”
“Obviously something had happened—something we hadn’t anticipated,” Drake said, “so we rushed to investigate.”
“Well, that explains that,” Louisa said, “but when Ellen sacrificed herself for me and our unborn child, as far as I, Ellen, and even Rattling knew, you two”—she eyed her husband and Christopher severely—“were racing northward, away from the house. Yet you reached the stable well before us.” She waved at Toby, Carter, and Robbie. “You must have turned back soon after we parted.”
The implied question hung in the air: Why had they turned back?
Drake looked at Christopher, and Christopher returned the look.
“Well?” Louisa demanded, rapidly attaining her most imperious tone.
“Let’s just say,” Drake carefully stated, “that as matters transpired, it’s just as well both Cynster and Varisey males possess highly active protective instincts.”
Louisa stared at her husband, then at Christopher.
Ellen mimicked the action in reverse.
Both ladies spoke simultaneously. “What does that mean?” From their tones, neither was sure it was anything good.
With his lips firmly sealed, Drake looked at Christopher.
Ellen and Louisa focused by-now-quite-pointed gazes on him.
Eventually, transparently reluctantly, he confessed, “We started off, as we’d said, assuming we were on the villain’s trail and the pair of you, together, were returning to the house.” His gaze fixed on Ellen. “But the farther we went, the…less certain we got.” He paused, then acknowledged, “It might have been different had we been able to hear the mastermind ahead of us, but after that first crack before we rushed off, we heard nothing.”
Ellen frowned slightly. “So because you couldn’t hear him ahead of you, you turned back?”
Judging by his expression, Christopher was tempted to agree, but after a second of inner wrestling, he admitted, “Not just that. We”—he cut a sharp glance at Drake—“both of us, started to feel…that we’d done something unforgivably stupid in allowing the pair of you to walk off alone. With every step we took northward, the pressure to race back to you two and ensure you were safe ballooned and grew.” He shrugged. “Finally, we gave in to it and came running back to find you.”