The Marquis and I (The Worthingtons #4)(67)

He nodded to Merton, who opened the door. Once the innkeeper and his wife were in the room, Con closed it.

“How did she—” The man started, his eyes round as saucers.

Charlotte cut him off. “She was abducted from the park in front of the house where her aunt is employed. I shall tell you everything, but first we must introduce ourselves.”

Before she could say another word, such as tell them she was unwed and in a bedchamber with an equally unwed gentleman, Con said, “Mr. and Mrs. Crowe, I am the Marquis of Kenilworth. This”—he pointed to Merton—“is the Marquis of Merton. These”—he motioned to Lady Merton and Charlotte—“are our ladies,” he said, carefully skirting Charlotte’s marital status. Other than closing her eyes for a moment, she didn’t make any indication that he was playing fast and loose with the truth. “As you were told, this young woman was kidnapped. We happened to be in the square with my wife’s brothers and sisters when we saw the commotion. Naturally, we followed the coach in the hope that we could rescue her.”

Con glanced at Charlotte and she continued the tale. “Our understanding is that a person by the name of Miss Betsy may have told you that Miss Cloverly was running away from either her parents or her husband.”

The landlady nodded. “We was told she didn’t like the man her parents wanted her to wed.”

“That is not true. In fact, she was visiting her aunt.”

Miss Cloverly nodded in confirmation. “I’m getting married in two weeks to the son of the man who owns the largest haberdashery in Luton. My family owns the best fabric warehouse in the town, and our parents have planned for us to marry since we were children.” A blush rose from her neck to her cheeks. “My Ben is also the handsomest man around. I wouldn’t have any reason not to marry him.”

The landlord’s wife opened and closed her mouth a few times, yet seemed unable to speak.

Lady Merton glanced at Charlotte and shook her head. “My husband and I, as well as Lady Kenilworth’s brother”—that threw them from the frying pan into the fire. But Charlotte hadn’t even blinked—“destroyed Miss Betsy’s brothel in London. Somehow, she escaped the law before reaching Newgate.”

By this point, Mrs. Crowe looked close to having apoplexy. She plopped onto the end of the bed, fanning herself with her apron. “I never thought . . . She looks and acts like such a lady, such a good person.”

Leaning over, Charlotte patted the woman’s hand. “You are not the only one she has deceived. We need to get this young woman to safety and call the magistrate to arrest the men who brought her here. We must also capture Miss Betsy so that she can no longer prey on other innocents.”

Mr. Crowe, who had been silent, finally said, “Just tell us what we can do, me lords. Can’t have my inn get a bad reputation.”

“The first thing,” Con said, “is to contact the magistrate. If you tell us where we may locate him, one of Lord Merton’s servants will fetch him. If you have a cellar or if there is a gaol nearby, we can detain the blackguards until then.”

“Nearest gaol is Richmond. That’s where Sir John, the magistrate, is too. I got a cellar we can lock them in until he gets here.”

Charlotte exchanged glances with Dotty before looking at Con. She had been a bit worried that the Crowes would either not believe their tale, or not want to become involved.

This was going much better than expected. Then again, not everything in life should be difficult. “It is a shame we do not know where Miss Betsy lives or her real name.”

The landlady cleared her throat. “I might be able to help with that.”

All of them turned their eyes to her. This was almost too much to hope for. “How?”

Mrs. Crowe ran a hand over her apron, smoothing it. “Most of the time, one of the men can read and write, and I just give his letter to our stable boy to post. This time, the man who brought—brought . . .” She glanced at Miss Cloverly.

“Miss Cloverly,” she supplied.

Mrs. Crowe nodded her thanks. “Who brought Miss Cloverly handed me a letter to be sent to Miss Betsy.” By this time they were all, even her husband, leaning toward Mrs. Crowe as if she was telling the most interesting story they’d ever heard. “The name on the letter was Mrs. E. Bottoms, and it was addressed in care of the White Swan in Twickenham.”

“Twickenham isn’t far at all,” Merton said. “Just a few miles.” He looked at Con. “We could be there and back in under two hours.”

“And have Miss Betsy under lock and key,” Con mused.





Chapter Twenty-Three


Before Constantine and Merton were too far into their scheme, Charlotte stopped them. “And how do you plan to prove that Mrs. E. Bottoms is Miss Betsy? For that matter, how do you propose to prove that any woman you have arrested is abducting people against their will? We have been told that it is Miss Betsy, but unless we have proof, she will be let go. Especially if she is known as a good citizen of her town.”

Merton opened his mouth, but Dotty forestalled him. “Charlotte is correct. We need to catch her in the act, as it were.”

Not saying a word, Constantine flattened his lips and tilted his head to one side. The rest of them were quiet as well.

After a few minutes, Miss Cloverly spoke. “If you can protect me, I’ll agree to go with her tomorrow. I have a craving to find out just who paid her to have me abducted.”