Page 28 of Wicked Designs
“This man, Mr. Blankenship, insists that you are holding a young lady captive. I refused to listen to such nonsense and he said he would come here anyway. Your Grace, I do not come here in my office’s capacity, but merely to assure you that I know his assertions are groundless. I will not be making any inquires or searches of this home.”
“What is the name of the lady?”
“He says her name is Emily Parr.”
“Who?” Godric masked his reaction to Blankenship’sface. A possessiveness had taken root there, a look Godric didn’t like.
What was Blankenship’s relationship to Emily?
“Miss Emily Parr. She is the niece of a gentleman named Albert Parr. I believe, if my facts are correct, you and he know each other?”
“Ahh, Parr. Yes. I have done business with him. I haven’t seen him in a few months, however.” Godric stretched his legs, seeking to look calm and collected. “Now you say you are here about his niece? What’s happened to her?”
Blankenship sat at the edge of his chair. A dark shadow passed across his face. “Don’t play the fool, Essex! I know you’ve taken her. We saw her come out of the door, she was shouting and waving at us.”
“Sir!” the magistrate snapped. “Restrain yourself in His Grace’s presence.”
“Why the devil would I wish to take Parr’s niece? What would I do with her? I have no need of some young chit just out of the schoolroom. I certainly don’t have to kidnap a lady if I desire one.”
“You took her because you believe Parr is indebted to you. We saw the girl ourselves and I showed the magistrate your note.”
“My what?” Godric laughed softly, genuinely amused.
With a weary sigh, Seaton pulled a note from his pocket and handed it to Godric.
He scanned the note he’d written and contained a smile. “This is not my handwriting.”
“Of course it is,” Blankenship said. “Parr recognized your hand.”
“Well, that is easily put to rest. Come, I shall show you.” Godric stood and quickly walked to a writing desk in the far corner. Both visitors followed.
He grabbed a sheet of paper and inked his quill. Holding the quill deftly with his right hand he scrawled a few sentences, blotted the paper and handed it to the magistrate.
Seaton pulled out his quizzing glass and examined the two works side by side. “Mr. Blankenship, take a look for yourself. This handwriting is not at all like the original note.”
“Nonsense!” Blankenship snatched the two notes out of the magistrate’s hand and studied them.
Godric fought the devious smile tugging at his lips. He’d written both notes, of course. The real one with his left hand and this one with his right. As a child, he’d had few friends. To occupy himself, he’d learned to write with both hands. The effect was two very different writing styles. Neither of his guests knew that he only wrote a few notes to Parr, always using his left hand—something he had never done in his normal correspondence. There was something he had never fully trusted about Parr and therefore he had never left much evidence by way of letters.
“But…that’s not possible. I know he wrote this. He’s tricking us. He had a servant write it for him.” Blankenship tossed both notes back at Godric.
“Mr. Blankenship, I believe it is time for you to leave. You have disturbed His Grace and as magistrate here, I’m telling you there is nothing to see here.” Seaton puta hand on Blankenship’s shoulder, but the man thrust him away.
“I am not satisfied. You and I both saw the girl on the road. I know it was Miss Parr. I wish to see every room in this bloody place.”
Godric gave a dramatic sigh. He could easily send the man packing, but he’d rather just show him the rooms and be done with it. He didn’t want the man skulking around his home. “If that will ease your concerns for the lady, then I will happily open my house to your inspection. I daresay you’ll be disappointed. I’m sure she’s merely run off.”
The three men left the drawing room.
“Run off? That little chit wouldn’t know where to go.” Blankenship frowned. “Besides, no one would take her in.”
Godric scowled. Blankenship spoke as though Emily hadn’t an intelligent thought in her head. Emily was nothing if not clever, and possessed two heads worth of knowledge.
“This way, gentlemen.” Godric gestured for the two men to follow as he led them about the house. He opened every door, and not one contained a sign of Emily. Her chamber had been immaculately cleaned. Emily’s maid, wearing a gown similar to Emily’s, sat on the bed, reading a book. The maid blushed when Godric and the two men noticed her.
“Ahh, sweetheart, there you are. I’m sorry to have upset you, we must never quarrel again.” He bent to press a kiss on the maid’s hand, and she ducked her head bashfully. Godric turned back to the two men.
“Excuse me, gentleman, this is a dear friend of mine, Libba. She is the lady you saw when you arrived. I’m afraid we had a row. But all is well.” Godric flashed a quick look at the maid. “You ought to go to the kitchens. Cook is preparing those pies you like so much.”
