A Daring Liaison(84)

“They’d be barely a day behind her. Go sit down, Hunter. I’ll see if I can hunt up Richardson.”

Charles retreated down the corridor to his own office. He sat at his desk and sighed. Not even noon, and he’d almost been killed. He was hoping his day would get better when a sharp knock sounded at his door. “Come,” he called.

The door opened a crack, and Tom Clark peeked in. “You got a minute, Hunter?”

“Yes.” He stood to welcome the old Bow Street Runner.

The man came in, shut the door behind him and pulled his soft cap off his head. “Got that information for you.”

Charles gestured to the chair in front of his desk and they sat. Clark reached inside his jacket and removed several sheets of paper with ragged edges. “These are my notes on the Betman robbery.” He unfolded the papers and slid them across the desk to Charles.

There were rough notes written in blurred and faded lead, and a few rough sketches. Clark had recalled the details clearly. Everything he’d told Charles was written on these pages, but the sketches were new. They’d never been entered into the official file. One of them detailed a brooch in the form of a Scottish thistle with the notation “solid gold, amethyst center.” A necklace with an elaborately swirled jeweled clasp that fastened in the front bore the inscription “solid gold, amethyst and diamond stones.” And earrings had the simple notation “pearls.”

“May I keep this, Clark? Or have the clerk make a copy?”

“You can keep it, sir. Put it in the file. They wouldn’t let me do that back then, since it wasn’t supposed to be a robbery. Weren’t interested in the truth after his lordship called them off.”

Charles shook his head. “I am still amazed that Lord Betman would rather the villains got away than that justice be done for his daughter.”

Clark squirmed in his chair and twisted his cap. “There were reasons, sir.”

Charles leaned back and looked at the clock. A bit too early to offer the man a drink, but he needed to put Clark at ease to get the rest of the story, though he was beginning to suspect the truth. “Tea?” he asked.

“Thank you, sir, but no. If there’s nothin’ else, I’d best be on my way.”

Charles was sure Clark knew more, and certain, too, that he wanted to tell it. To unburden himself of the bad taste the case had left in his mouth. “Are you certain there’s nothing else, Clark?”

His hesitation was enough of an admission.

“If I don’t know it all, I may miss something.”

“Don’t know how it could help anyone now.”

“You can trust my discretion. I will not repeat anything you tell me.”

The older man sank into his chair again and let out a massive sigh. “Aye, then. That girl. Lady Caroline. When we found her in that alley, she was tore up real bad. Blood everywhere. Gave a good fight, like I said. But what wasn’t in the report was that she was raped. Brutal. They’d ripped her unmentionables off and there was plenty of blood...down there, too. She’d been a virgin, I warrant.”

Charles groaned. For the first time, he saw past Lady Caroline’s haughtiness to the events that had changed her forever. From the sweet young girl Carlington loved to the bitter woman Charles had met, she had endured the worst that could happen to a woman. And found the strength to survive. “Why did you not put that in the report?”

“Didn’t seem right, somehow. She’d been hurt enough. Didn’t need me and Frank writin’ things down where anyone could read it. There’d be a worse scandal than there already was.”

A sick feeling settled in the pit of Charles’s stomach. So much to think about. So much to unravel. He stood and reached into his ripped waistcoat pocket to remove a crown and flipped the coin to Clark. “Thank you. I appreciate your candor. If you should remember anything else, you know where to find me.”

* * *

Georgiana and the other ladies sat around a low table in the back dressing room at La Meilleure Robe while Gina, now her sister-in-law, poured tea. Georgiana realized with a bit of wonder that she was now somehow related to everyone in the room with the exception of Lady Annica and Grace Hawthorne.

“Whatever happened to that woman who stood before us swearing never to marry again?” Lady Annica teased with a broad smile.

“I...I...”

“She hadn’t bargained on Charlie,” Sarah finished for her. “My brother can be quite persuasive.”