When he seemed unable to move, she clutched her reticule tighter. "Bobby, you have to decide now. There's no time to lose."
His throat worked as he struggled to ignore what she was saying. and after an endless minute he sighed harshly, and some of the tension drained from his face. "You always had," he said in a resigned voice as his eyes roved over her features, "the softest heart." Without another word he walked over to his valise, threw what few articles of clothing he possessed into it, then snatched the money from the bed.
Elizabeth blinked back a flood of tears. "Don't forget," she whispered hoarsely, "Elizabeth Duncan."
He paused with his hand on the door latch and looked back at her. "This is enough," For a long moment brother and sister looked at each other, knowing it would be the last time; then his lips quirked in an odd little smile of pain. "Good-bye," he said. "Beth," he added.
Not until she saw him striding swiftly past the window of their room, heading for the road that twisted down to the sea, did Elizabeth relax, and then she sagged onto the bed, boneless. She bowed her head, and tears slid down her cheeks, dropping onto the reticule that covered her hand; tears of sorrow mingled with tears of relief and fell from her lashes-but all the tears were for her brother, not for her.
Because inside the reticule was her pistol.
And from the moment she realized he might not agree to let her leave, she'd been pointing it at Robert.
Chapter 35
Elizabeth made the four-day journey from Helmshead to London in two and a half days-a feat she managed to accomplish by the expedient, if dangerous and costly, method of paying exorbitant sums to coachmen who reluctantly agreed to drive at night, and by sleeping in the coach. The only pauses in her headlong journey were to change horses, change clothing, and gulp down an occasional meal. Wherever they stopped, everyone from post boys to barmaids talked about the trial of Ian Thornton, Marquess of Kensington.
As the miles rolled past, day receded into black night and gray dawn, then began the cycle again, and Elizabeth listened to the pounding hooves of the horses and the terrified pounding of her heart.
At ten o'clock in the morning, six days after Ian's trial had begun, the dusty coach she'd been traveling in drew up before the Dowager Duchess of Hawthorne's London town house, and Elizabeth hurtled out of it before the steps were down, tripping on her skirts when she hit the street, then stumbling up the steps and hammering on the door.
"What in heaven's name-" the dowager began as she paused in the hall, distracted from her worried pacing by the thundering of the brass knocker.
The butler opened the door, and Elizabeth rushed past him. "Your Grace?" she panted. "I-"
"You!" the dowager said, staring woodenly at the disheveled, dusty woman who'd deserted her husband. caused a furor of pain and scandal, and now presented herself looking like a beautiful dust mop in the dowager's front hall when it was all but too late. "Someone should take a strap to you," she snapped.
"Ian will undoubtedly want to attend to that himself, but later. Now I need"-Elizabeth paused. trying to still her panic. to carry out her plan step by step-"I need to get into Westminster. I need your help, because they'll not want to let a woman into the House of Lords."
"The trial is in its sixth day, and I don't mind telling you it is not going well."
"Tell me later!" Elizabeth said in a commanding tone that would have done credit to the dowager herself. "Just think of someone with influence who will get me in there someone you know. I'll do the rest once I'm inside."
Belatedly, the dowager comprehended that regardless of her unforgivable behavior, Elizabeth was now Ian Thornton's best hope for acquittal, and she finally galvanized into action. "Faulknerl" she barked. turning to address what seemed to be the staircase.
"Your grace?" asked the dowager's personal maid who materialized on the balcony above.
"Take this young woman upstairs. Get her clothes brushed and her hair into order. Ramsey!" she snapped. motioning to the butler to follow her into the blue salon, where she sat down at her writing desk. "Take this note directly to Westminster. Tell them that it is from me and that it is to be given immediately to Lord Kyleton. He'll be in his seat at the House of Lords." She wrote quickly, then thrust the missive at the butler. "I've told him to stop the trial at once. I've also told him that we will be waiting for him in front of Westminster in my coach in one hour. He is to meet us there so that he can get us into the House."
"At once, your grace," said Ramsey, already bowing himself out of the room.
She followed him out. still issuing orders. "On the oft' chance Kyleton has decided to be derelict in his duties and not attend the trial today, send a footman to his house, another to White's, and another to the home of that actress be thinks no one knows be keeps in Florind Street. You," she said, bending an icy eye on Elizabeth, "come with me. You have much to explain, madam, and you can do it while Faulkner attends to your appearance."
"I am not." Elizabeth said in a burst of frustrated anger, "going to think of my appearance at a time like this."
The duchess's brows shot into her hairline. "Have you come to persuade them that your husband is innocent?"
"Well, of course I have. I-"
"Then don't shame him more than you already have! You look like a refugee from a dustbin in Bedlam. You'll be lucky if they don't hang you for putting them to all this trouble!" She started up the staircase with Elizabeth following slowly behind, listening to her tirade with only half her mind. "Now, if your misbegotten brother would do us the honor of showing himself, your husband might not have to spend the. night in a dungeon, which is exactly where Jordan thinks he's going to land if the prosecutors have their way."
Elizabeth stopped on the third step. "Will you please listen to me for a moment-" she began angrily.
"I listen to you all the way to Westminster," the dowager snapped back sarcastically. "I daresay all London will be eager to hear what you have to say for yourself in tomorrow's paper!"
"For the love of God!" Elizabeth cried at her back, I wondering madly to whom she could turn for speedier help.
An hour was an eternity! "I have not come merely to show that I'm alive. I can prove that Robert is alive and that he came to no harm at Ian's hands, and-"
The duchess lurched around and started down the stair" case, her gaze searching Elizabeth's face with a mixture of desperation and hope. "Faulknerl" she barked without turning, "bring whatever you need. You can attend Lady Thornton in the coach!"