The Complete Regency Surrender Collection. Louise Allen

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Название The Complete Regency Surrender Collection
Автор произведения Louise Allen
Жанр Историческая литература
Серия Mills & Boon e-Book Collections
Издательство Историческая литература
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474085182



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he shook his head and firmly pressed his thumb into the stone of his ring, feeling more protective over her than he expected. ‘As far as I know, my brother has given you all the relevant details.’

      Mr Donaldson peered briefly into one of the holes in the wall. ‘Very well.’ He gestured towards the door. ‘Colonel, I believe it is time to see what he knows.’

      After the door closed, all the air in the room appeared to leave with them. Gabriel wanted to take a deep breath to steady his nerves, but found the tight pressure on his chest prevented him from drawing in much air. He caught Andrew’s concerned expression before he sat down in the chair and focused his attention on the prisoner on the other side of the wall. Through the vent near his boots, he heard, rather than saw, when Mr Donaldson and Colonel Collingsworth entered the room. So much had come down to this very moment.

      They took seats across from a very alert man, who shifted in his chair.

      ‘I know there is someone there,’ Manning said with a shaky voice.

      Mr Donaldson nodded to Brennan to remove the man’s blindfold. Manning blinked a number of times before narrowly studying the well-dressed men in front of him and then eyed Brennan from his scuffed boots to his sturdy legs, broad shoulders and black hair that fell past his collar. Once he had sufficiently taken his measure, he turned back to the men seated across from him.

      Eyeing Colonel Collingsworth’s scarlet uniform with gold trim, he addressed him first. ‘You’re a Guard to the King. What business do you have with me? Why was I brought here?’

      Colonel Collingsworth leaned his tall, athletic frame closer and folded his hands on the top of the table. ‘Is your name John Manning?’

      Manning’s gaze shifted between his inquisitors and he blinked four times before he nodded. ‘I am.’

      ‘John Manning, you are charged with high treason, for conspiring to murder the Prince Regent of the kingdom of Great Britain.’

      All the air missing from Gabriel’s lungs appeared to push its way out of Manning’s with a loud whoosh and the man fell back against the chair. ‘I have done nothing of the sort. Surely, sirs, you are mistaken.’

      ‘Do you deny visiting Hatchard’s bookshop today and placing information about the Prince Regent’s future whereabouts into a copy of Dante’s Inferno?’

      The colour drained from Manning’s face and his chest visibly rose and fell as if he had been running instead of sitting for so long. ‘I...I...’

      ‘You should be aware before you attempt to deny it that you were seen doing so by noble men who protect the Crown,’ the Colonel informed him.

      Manning sat up tall and cleared his throat. ‘Even if I did place a paper with the date and location of a ball, that does not mean I am conspiring murder.’

      ‘And what if I told you that someone with your hand recently provided an assassin with the location of the Prince Regent the very day someone tried to kill him?’

      The colour drained from Manning’s face and his wide-eyed gaze moved from Colonel Collingsworth to Mr Donaldson and back again. ‘Assassin?’

      ‘That is the term for a person who attempts to kill someone.’

      Under the table, the artist’s right leg began to tremble. Pressing his lips firmly together, he lowered his head and stared at Colonel Collingsworth through his lashes. His chest rose and fell rapidly, matching time with Gabriel’s.

      From behind the large mural on Manning’s right, Gabriel rubbed the stone of his ring, praying that Olivia was not part of this treachery. It would destroy him to find out the woman he had chosen to marry had the heart of a murderer. The image of Olivia being led to the gallows was making him feel sick.

      Gabriel focused his attention on the scene before him.

      ‘Do you know the penalty for treason, sir?’ This time it was Mr Donaldson who spoke. ‘You will be sentenced to death. You will swing within a fortnight.’

      Manning’s head jerked in his direction, but he remained silent—except for the sound of the rapid tapping of his boot.

      ‘Tell us about Hatchard’s. Tell us why you placed a note into that book. Who were you attempting to contact?’

      The tapping sound was now replaced by the sound of heavy breathing, as Manning appeared to struggle with his decision to talk. Finally, he let out a shaky breath. ‘I have no notion of who takes the information I leave. I was told to place the information in that book each time I learned of somewhere the Prince Regent would be. I swear to you I had no idea what they would do with the information.’

      They? Dear God, there was someone else involved.

      ‘Who told you to do this?’

      ‘I do not know. I am innocent of any treachery against the Crown. I had no notion what they would use my information for.’

      ‘Why should we believe you?’

      ‘I am telling you the truth. I have no idea who has been retrieving my notes. They never told me their names.’

      ‘Who told you where to place this information of yours?’ Colonel Collingsworth asked.

      ‘I do not know. You have to believe me. I never met them. A note was delivered to my studio one afternoon, early in the month. This person knew of a child of mine—a child that is far from London with his mother. If I did not provide them with the information they wanted, they threatened to harm my child. They told me they would mutilate him so badly that his life would be a living hell.’

      ‘Were you contacted by one person or were there others?’

      ‘I only received the one note.’

      ‘How long were you to supply them with information?’

      ‘I do not know. They said they would notify me when they no longer required my services.’

      ‘Do you still have the letter?’ Mr Donaldson asked.

      ‘No, I destroyed it as they directed.’

      ‘How many notes have you deposited at Hatchard’s?’

      ‘Four...I think.’

      ‘And the information on the Prince Regent’s plans, where did you get it?’

      Manning looked away.

      The pounding of Gabriel’s heart was so loud, it almost blocked out the noise from the other room. From of the corner of his eye he saw Andrew turn his way. He sucked in a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut, forcing a sense of calm to steady his frantic heart.

      Manning shifted in his seat. ‘Are these handcuffs necessary? I have answered your questions and they are chafing my wrists. Surely with that mountain of a man behind me and the two of you between me and the door, you don’t believe I could actually escape. Do you?’

      Colonel Collingsworth nodded to Brennan and the cuffs were unlocked. Immediately, Manning began rubbing his wrists. The men sitting with him might have missed his tactic for avoiding the last question, but Gabriel had not. Why did he not want to reveal where he had gathered his information? Was he protecting someone or fearful of them?

      ‘The information on the Prince Regent’s whereabouts. How did you acquire it?’ Mr Donaldson asked again, and Gabriel almost wished he had forgotten that he hadn’t received an answer the first time.

      ‘They will know you have me and that I have told you things. They will want retribution. Please, sirs, I beg of you. Please do not let any harm come to my child and his mother. They have had no part in this. They should not be made to suffer because of me.’

      ‘You are in no position to make any requests,’ Colonel Collingsworth said, clearly disgusted.

      ‘Then I have nothing else to say.’ Manning leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

      ‘Cooperate