Page 85 of When You Rescued Me

Even though Lady Telford’s eyes remained closed, Hannah bobbed a farewell curtsy. “I wish you a speedy recovery, my lady.”

Hannah spotted the butler the moment she exited the parlor. “Mark­ham!” she called, hurrying across the short distance that separated ­them.

The butler stood at attention, waiting. “May I help you, miss?”

“Yes. Or rather, you may help Lady Telford.” Hannah was not sure exactly how much to tell him. “Her ladyship was the victim of a violent attack in the library. She is currently resting in her parlor and has asked that I summon you.”

The well-trained servant uttered no exclamations, but Hannah caught the flicker of alarm in his eyes before he turned toward the west wing. “The parlor, you say?”

“Yes. I believe she will want tea and to speak with her daughter right away.”

“Very good, miss.” He bowed. “I shall see to it.”

“Thank you, Markham.”

As the butler crossed the entrance hall with rapid, clipped footsteps, Hannah finally relinquished the responsibility of caring for his mistress. Her shoulders sagged, and she felt the prick of tears as relief set in. She had done her part, and it was over.

“Hannah!”

As if in answer to an unspoken prayer, Sophia and Elinor appeared, running toward her from the ballroom.

“Where have you been?” Elinor asked. “After you asked about Lady Telford, you disappeared. And then when Mr. Ross did the same, I became alarmed. Sophia and I have been searching everywhere for you.”

Sophia must have noticed the tears in Hannah’s eyes. Or perhaps it was the hair that had come loose from her pins or the small tear in the front of her gown. Whatever it was, something caused her to reach for Hannah’s hand. “What is it, Hannah? What happened?”

“Grimsby was here,” Hannah said.

Elinor gasped. “The highwayman who wounded you?”

Hannah nodded. “He wanted Lady Telford’s emerald pendant.”

“Is she . . . ?” Sophia swallowed.

“She is safe,” Hannah said. “The Bow Street officers have taken Grimsby and those working with him into custody.” She fought to keep her voice steady. “I am uninjured, but I—”

“Wish to go home,” Elinor finished for her.

“Yes,” Hannah whispered.

“I shall find Father,” Sophia said, releasing Hannah’s hand. “Stay with her, Elinor. And if the butler or a footman comes by before I return, have them send for our carriage.”

“I am sorry to end your time at the ball so abruptly,” Hannah said.

Sophia groaned. “Truly, Hannah? Which do you think I would prefer? Evading Mr. Pettigrew all night, failing in my avoidance tactics and being forced to dance with him, or sitting beside you before a roaring fire in the parlor at home, listening to you recount how Mr. Ross dispatched Grimsby?”

Hannah stared at her sister. “How did you know that Samuel—”

But her sister was not listening. She was already running across the entrance hall toward the ballroom.

“Come, Hannah.” Elinor linked her arm through Hannah’s and drew her toward a couple of chairs positioned against the wall beside the front door. “You must sit until Sophia and Father arrive.”

Chapter 31

Samuel stood at the base of the three steps leading up to the solicitor’s office and rolled his shoulders. Four hours of sleep was not nearly enough, especially when the short time he’d spent in bed had been clouded by his dread of what must come today.

He had been up until the early hours of the morning assisting Jealous and Clarke incarcerate Aitken and Grimsby at the Brown Bear. The Bardsey Gang members that Stephenson and Saunders had rounded up had taken all available space in the holding rooms at the magistrate’s office, but thankfully, the inn across the street had two vacant rooms, and the innkeeper was well used to them being used to house such men.

Samuel and Clarke had patched up the prisoners’ wounds as best they could. Samuel’s second bullet had hit Grimsby’s lower torso. The vile man had been coherent enough to spew profanities at Samuel when he and Jealous had hauled him to the carriage, but whether Grimsby would survive the more serious wound, Samuel did not know. For Grimsby, it hardly mattered. Whether it was because of his injuries or by order of an Old Bailey judge, the man would be facing a death sentence for the crimes he had committed. Jealous thought it probable that Samuel would have to go before the judge to justify his need to shoot Grimsby, but with a corroborating statement from Lady Telford, his testimony would be little more than a formality.