She wished with all her heart that she’d run away with Hallam when he’d asked years ago, but of course she had married to save her father from ruin. At least she had freed her father from his debt. She could no longer feel remorse in having stolen the notes after the way her husband had behaved.
At last she settled and drifted into a gentle sleep, a little smile on her lips because her dream was sweeter than of late.
* * *
Hallam buttoned up his coat against the cold night air. Dawn was just breaking and the scene in the park was bleak, just a small group of men waiting for the arrival of Lethbridge and his seconds. As the church clock struck the hour, three men came walking towards them. Hallam had begun to think the count would not show, but now he was here and he must keep his nerve. If Madeline was to be set free, Lethbridge could not be allowed to leave here alive. Yet Hallam must hold his fire until the other man shot, because otherwise it would be murder.
The count’s seconds had brought pistols with them, which Lord Sawston insisted on examining. He suspected foul play, but declared the pistols beautifully balanced, though, as Lethbridge had used them before they gave him the advantage.
‘You could insist on using the pistols I provided,’ he suggested, but Hallam shook his head.
‘One pistol is as good as another to me. Let it take place immediately.’
Hallam glanced at the doctor, who had been summoned to attend whichever man was shot. He had an unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach: it was one thing to kill the enemy in battle, another to kill an English gentleman in cold blood. However, it must be done for Madeline’s sake.
‘Does either of you wish to withdraw?’ Lord Sawston asked.
‘No,’ Lethbridge growled. ‘He insulted me—I want satisfaction.’
‘I have no intention of withdrawing,’ Hallam said.
‘Then take your places. I shall count to fifteen and you will take one pace on each count. On the count of fifteen, you will turn and fire.’
Hallam nodded and stood back to back with Lethbridge. He took a step forwards on each count, but on the count of fourteen something alerted him and he half-turned as Lethbridge fired. Because he turned the ball struck him in his left arm rather than his back. He recoiled, steadied himself and then took aim, but he could not quite bring himself to press the trigger and before he could fire, a shot came from out of the trees at Lethbridge’s back. It struck him in the centre and his body jerked. He looked stunned as he sank to his knees, blood trickling from the side of his mouth. His mouth opened as if he wished to speak, but only a gurgle issued from his lips before he fell forwards flat on his face.
‘Good grief, that’s murder!’ Sawston cried. ‘Did anyone see who fired the shot?’
‘I was watching Ravenscar. He did not fire,’ Sir Andrew Meechin said. He had accompanied Lethbridge as his second. ‘The shot came from behind us and I saw nothing of the rogue—did you?’
‘I was also watching Ravenscar. I believe he meant to fire in the air,’ Lord Sawston replied. He walked towards Hallam, who was clutching at his arm, swaying a little as the blood oozed through his fingers. The doctor was already with him, binding a tourniquet below the wound to stop the bleeding.
‘I’ll do,’ Hallam said through gritted teeth. ‘Take a look at Lethbridge if you will, sir.’
‘He’s dead,’ Mr Phillips, the second of Lethbridge’s friends, confirmed. ‘It was a foul shot and I caught sight of the rogue in the shadows as he fled—looked like a hired assassin to me, dressed in dark clothes and masked, hat low over his brow.’
‘Are you saying one of us arranged this?’ Jack Mainwaring demanded.
‘No, not at all, but someone did,’ Meechin said. ‘Let us not forget that there were others the count cheated at the tables. Last night he was exposed for the rogue he was. The man had enemies and someone saw an opportunity to kill him while we were all looking the other way.’
‘We must report this to the magistrates,’ Lord Sawston said. ‘You did not fire, Ravenscar. You are in the clear—but murder was done here this night. Lethbridge is no great loss to the world, but the law must be enforced. Whoever did this thing must be brought to justice.’
‘I very much fear I may be—’ Hallam got no further as he fainted into Jack’s arms.
‘We must get him to his lodgings,’ Jack said. ‘He doesn’t need to spend the day kicking his heels in prison in this condition. We can all swear to his innocence.’
‘I’ll speak to the magistrate and sort this mess out,’ Lord Sawston said. ‘You may accompany me, Meechin. Jack, you and Phillips should help Hal into a carriage and see him home.’
‘It would be better if you brought him to my house,’ Dr Phelps said. ‘I shall tend him more easily in my surgery. That ball needs to come out and he is going to feel a little the worse for weather for a while. I shall care for him until he feels able to return home. My wife is an excellent nurse and I believe he lives alone.’
It was agreed that this was the best strategy since one could not expect his landlady to nurse him. Grooms were called to assist Hallam into a carriage and others to help transport the lifeless body of Count Lethbridge to his home.
Hallam came round a little in the carriage, but was given a drink of brandy by his friends and soon fell into a swoon again.
‘Damn it, I hope his wound isn’t fatal,’ Jack said. ‘He fought the French and came through it—and that devil shot on the count of fourteen. If he were still alive, I would see him hang.’
‘It is as well justice was served then,’ Meechin remarked. ‘I had no wish to act for the fellow in the first place and if I’d known what he meant to do I should have refused. He’s a damned scoundrel—or was.’
‘Someone had to do it,’ Jack said. ‘Waste no tears on Lethbridge, sir. He was a cheat, a liar and a murderer and I for one believe that he got what he deserved. I just hope that Hal does not pay too harsh a price.’
‘I think I shall go into the country,’ Madeline said on the morning of the third day after she’d fled from her husband’s house. ‘Last night, when I glanced down into the hall, I saw a gentleman I know—a friend of my husband’s. He glanced up, but whether he glimpsed me in the shadows I do not know. I think we should leave London before Lethbridge comes looking for me.’
‘We always knew we could not stay here for long,’ Sally agreed with an anxious look. ‘But where will you go, my lady?’
‘I pray you, do not call me my lady. It is best that you call me ma’am or by my name. We are friends after all.’
‘I shall call you ma’am,’ Sally said. ‘You will always be my lady in my heart. Where in the country shall we go?’
‘Are you sure that both of you wish to come with me?’
‘I shall not desert you, ma’am,’ Sally said, ‘and Thomas vows he will go wherever I lead.’
‘I have a friend in Cambridgeshire who will take me in for a while,’ Madeline said. ‘Hattie was my governess, but she left us to marry a gentleman farmer. She will allow me to stay until I can find a cottage of my own. Thomas must take a necklace and sell it for me to cover the costs of the journey.’
‘You will not sell your trinkets yet,’ Sally said. ‘Master Hobbis told Thomas that he would loan us a chaise and pair for the journey. Once we are safe, Thomas can leave us and return them and make his own way back. He has a horse stabled here and will need it in the country.’
‘I