Risking it All for a Lady's Heart: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Aria Norton

  “You do not know the man for whom you work, Mrs Blunt. Lord Blackmore has hated me for many years; he blames me for an accident that happened ten years ago. When my parents died, he took it as an opportunity to finally be rid of me. Not simply satisfied with removing me from his presence, he sought to destroy me by spreading vicious rumours about the town.”

  Mrs Blunt drew up a chair, sitting down as though her legs would no longer carry her.

  “Lord Blackmore has done all this for revenge? I cannot believe it. He is an upright man, a pillar of the community.”

  “A simple walk into town would dispel that belief. I take it that you do not come from here, Mrs Blunt. Lord Blackmore has taken the time to find a housekeeper from another town. Had you been from Alfriston, you would know that the town's people do not particularly like his Lordship.”

  Freddi let the woman ingest the truth while she continued with preparing their tea. Freddi had a feeling that the housekeeper would become a friend once the scales on her eyes regarding her employer fell away. When she placed the tea in front of Mrs Blunt, the woman placed a hand on hers.

  “I am sorry, Miss Dunn. Despite my age and experiences, I was not able to discern fact from fiction. The human mind is a fickle thing; it gives alliance to lies without evidence and thus weakens our common sense. I did not think to question his claims. I took them to be true because of his position.”

  Freddi looked at the hand, surprised that Mrs Blunt was so ready to apologise. Is this genuine? The housekeeper moved her hands away when she saw Freddi's frown, her expression tinged with shame. There seems to be no deceit, perhaps this is a true apology. After all, she was fooled, how can I judge her? Blackmore is the one to blame here.

  “I do not hold it against you, not when the rumours were of such a sensational nature. I think it would be difficult to ignore such words, and when spoken by a prominent man, it is natural to accept it as truth. Take this tea as a peace offering, I no longer wish to bicker with you.”

  In answer, Mrs Blunt lifted her cup to her lips, taking a noisy sip. Freddi chuckled, appreciating the woman's humour. What an odd morning! With a few days to go before her eviction, Freddi found herself having tea with the very woman who had given her a verbal eviction notice. There is irony to this situation, and it certainly is not lost on me.

  ***

  Nash could not lift his head high as he walked through Blackmore Estate's entrance. As per usual, he met Mr Dagwood first, greeting the older man before moving on to his father's study. He knew that the Marquis would be there, as it was his favourite part of the house.

  Nash knocked, and upon hearing his father's bark of command to enter, he took a deep breath and walked in. He found his father pouring over several ledgers, but as soon as the man saw him, he closed his books, setting them aside.

  “Nash! You have returned.”

  “Yes, Father.”

  “Sit, sit, tell me the good news. Who is it? Who is the fool behind these notes?”

  Nash hung his head. “I did not find him.”

  “What? Speak up, boy!”

  “I did not find him,” Nash repeated.

  The Marquis stroked his chin, his eyes becoming slits. “What you are conveying to me in that weak tone is that you failed. Is this true?”

  Nash knew that this was the calm before the storm. He is gearing up to a full-blown rage, but I will bear it for Freddi's sake. If I can remain calm and respectful, he may listen to me when I request that he keep Freddi as his employee.

  "Yes, Father. I have found nothing. I have followed every lead, questioned all the people you have mentioned, and I have gone as far as London, but I have not been able to find the perpetrator."

  His father stood up abruptly, knocking books to the floor. “Incompetent fool! You have always been a failure, and you will continue to be one. No, no, I was the fool to think that you could do this simple task for your father. What could I expect? You are nothing but a crippled disappointment.” His father looked away from him, turning his back. “Leave my study.”

  “Father, I have something to request of you.”

  The Marquis whipped around. "You have a request for me? Do you say this in jest?"

  “No.”

  “You certainly have some nerve to request anything from me, but I am curious to know what it is.”

  “Do not force Freddi to leave Blackmore Estate, Father. This is the only home she has ever known. Have mercy on her and allow her to remain here, working for you.”

  His father looked at him briefly before letting out a loud snort of laughter. Nash was not in the least surprised by his father's reaction, but his love for Freddi pushed him on.

  "She has done nothing worth the punishment you have meted out to her, Father. I was the one who stood in the way of the horse, she did not put me there. Moreover, I was the one who insisted that we meet in the stable despite you warning me to stay away from her. Freddi truly has done nothing, and I ask that you hold back on your command and allow her to stay."

  “You have no right to ask such a thing of me. Get out of my sight.”

  There is no talking to him. I should have known that he would not listen to me. Nash slowly came to his feet, his shoulders slumped forward.

  “I am sorry that I could not help you, Father.”

  Nash left his father's study, his heart heavy with disappointment. He went straight to the tavern, his mind thirsty for oblivion. He motioned to the barmaid, calling out to her.

  “Molly, a beer please.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  Nash covered his face with his hands, recalling all of his failures. They came one after the other, pulling him into deeper despair.

  “It seems to me that yer day 'as been a bad one, Mr Salisbury. 'Tis still early in the day to be down in the cups.”

  Miss Cathy appeared beside him, placing her palms on the table.

  “Will you judge me for drinking this early in the day?”

  “Goodness me! Far be it from me to judge ye, rather, I would like to help ye. I am told that I am a good listener.”

  "Thank you, but I cannot speak of my personal problems to you, Miss Cathy. Some beer will do me a world of good."

  "I have certainly heard that many times before. All right. I hope that whatever is plaguing ye is resolved soon."

  Miss Cathy moved away, placing her hand on the shoulder of a man who looked like he had been in a slumped position for days. I feel the way he looks. Molly brought him his drink, giving him a saucy smile as she walked away. She may smile all she wants, but my heart belongs to Freddi. I will never look at another woman besides her.

  Nash felt as though he were living a romantic tragedy where the hero never gets to be with the heroine. I cannot marry her when I have nothing to offer her, and when I was presented with the opportunity to gain my inheritance back, I failed. Was there anyone more pathetic than he was? I highly doubt that.

  ***

  Freddi had a few items of her parents to fold and pack away before her departure in two days. At least Mrs Blunt has agreed to keep a few of my belongings. She has turned out to be a lovely woman. First impressions can be wrong, especially when a third party is somehow involved. Freddi still had no clue as to where she would go or what she would do, but it was one less worry knowing that her parents' belongings would be safe.

  I wish that I could take them with me, but I must be practical about this matter.

  Mrs Blunt's presence had also kept her so busy that she had forgotten that Nash would have been in to see his father.

  He did not come to tell me what his father said. I suppose he believes our partnership to be at an end.

  They had said their goodbyes a day ago, but she had hoped to see him again before he left for France. I see that he does not share the same sentiments as I do. It hurt a little, but she had come to terms with the fact that they had to go their separate ways. Sighing, she took her father's worn coat from a pile of clothing, checking its pockets before she coul
d fold and put it away.

  Her father had been a man who always carried some form of paper with him, and usually kept it in his pockets to later forget about it. Sure enough, the first pocket yielded a few papers, some that were faded, and others that had names and numbers. Intrigued, Freddi looked at the names, wondering if she knew any of the people. What do the numbers have to do with names? Papa would have written them for a reason. She recognised the name of a distant male cousin that had often come to her father to ask for money and another of the butcher.

  “The old butcher. A younger man has taken his place in the last few weeks or so.”

  Mr Jones had retired soon after her parents’ death, giving the reins of the business to an apprentice who had worked under him for the past three years. The next name on the list drew her attention; or rather she should say the initials did.

  “AD- what could that mean?”

  They were not familiar to her, but what did it matter? She was no longer searching for clues regarding her parents' deaths. Freddi had come to terms with the fact that she may never find out whether or not her parents had died of natural causes or evil means.

  I no longer have the time or resources to do such a thing.

  But it did not sit right with her. It was the right of every child to find out the nature of her parents' deaths, particularly when it seemed mysterious. Perhaps I can ask Mr Down who these initials belong to, he knows everyone in town. Freddi slapped her brow when a thought came to her. Mr Down! I have not yet told him of my decision. It had come to her last night when reality had descended upon her and frightened her.

  I will go to him and inform him that I have accepted his proposal, it is my only way to survive.

  Freddi checked for any more papers before neatly folding her father's coat and packing it away. She stood up, happy that most of the task she had set out for herself to do was complete. Now to freshen up and see Mr Down. Hopefully, he had not gone back on his word.

  ***

  Freddi could not resist going past the tavern to see if Nash were still there.

  I will only peek as though I am walking by and happen to look inside the windows. I do not want Miss Cathy to think that I am bothering her guests.

  After the misunderstanding of the last time they had been together, it was wise to keep her distance unless the woman invited her in.

  Which I highly doubt. I daresay that the woman dislikes me greatly.

  Throwing on a bonnet and shawl, she left her cottage, not locking it as Mrs Blunt wished to bring a few of her belongings to arrange the cottage according to her liking. Freddi had said that she would help the woman move her things from the servants' quarters in the main house to the cottage. I no longer feel any type of way for her doing so. After all, I will no longer be living there.

  As Freddi walked through the town she still noticed people staring at her, but their hostility seemed to have died down a bit. Perhaps I am not the talk of the town anymore, but they are still wary about approaching me. She slowed down when she got to the Black Horse, her heart nearly singing when she saw Nash sitting at one of the tables. Perhaps I should see him after I have spoken to Mr Down, but what if he leaves before then?

  Freddi knew that a stagecoach would come in an hour or so to pick up a few travellers looking to leave town. No, this might just be her last chance to see him. Drawing a deep breath, she entered the tavern, her nose wrinkling at the smell of the alcohol permeating the room. Molly had her back to her, and Miss Cathy was nowhere to be seen. Just my luck, I shall not be too long. Nash seemed to sense that she was there because he looked up, his gaze focusing on her.

  “Freddi? Is that you?”

  She frowned at him, seeing the state of his being. Is he drunk? Freddi approached him, her finger going to her nose when she encountered the scent of a man who had been drinking for far too long. I see that he is not taking his failure well.

  “You have been drinking, Nash.”

  He smiled. “Yes, I have. Would you like something to drink? They have good beer here.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “No, thank you. I am not particularly keen on beer. I have only come here to talk to you before you leave. I hope that you can understand me in your condition.”

  “Of course! Talk, talk, I wish to hear what you want to say.”

  It may have been a waste of time coming here when he is in this state, but I might as well forge ahead.

  "I wish to thank you for including me on your London trip, Nash."

  “You have told me all of this already, yes?”

  “Be that as it may, I wish to thank you again. Also, I meant every word when I said that I was glad to see you once again.”

  “You are amazing, Frederica Dunn, do you know that?” he slurred. “I have always admired you, and I never forgot you even when in France. When I came back to Alfriston, I was afraid I had lost you. But you are here, and I am happy.”

  He is not responding to my words, I should have known that he would not be able to- what did he just say?

  “You said that you admire me?”

  He grinned. “Do you think I am lying? I am tipsy, but I am no liar.”

  Although he was clearly drunk, Freddi knew that he spoke the truth. Her father had told her that drunk men could not lie as their guard was down. He cares for me, but I knew this. Why else would he forbid me from looking for clues about my parents' deaths? I might as well take advantage of this situation and tell him exactly what is on my heart. Well, most of it. She could not tell him everything, could she?

  “I am sad to see you go, Nash. We have not spent much time together, and I know that it is partly my fault. I was angry with you, but I have come to understand that it was a difficult period for both of us. If only things had been different.”

  Freddi was on the verge of crying as she spoke these words. How I wish that I could tell him the extent of my feelings, but I cannot. He needs to know that I love him, that I even forgive him for staying away so many years without so much as a letter sent to me. A lump formed in her throat, a tell-tale sign that she was losing the battle to keep her waterworks at bay. She stood up, the scraping sound of her chair attracting the attention of the barmaid.

  “I must go, Nash. Please, take care.”

  “Wait, just wait a moment, Freddi. Is this it?”

  What did he mean? “I must go, I cannot be here any longer.”

  “Freddi-”

  “Goodbye, Nash.”

  Freddi hurried out of the tavern, dabbing her wet cheeks with her hand. Saying goodbye never became any easier no matter how many times it was said.

  Chapter 16

  Freddi had to stop for a moment to calm herself down. It would not do to go to the cobbler with a splotchy face. I am meant to look happy, or at least grateful, when I accept his proposal. However, her heart had other things in mind. It wanted her to run back to the tavern and into Nash's arms to beg him to take her with him to France.

  “Practicality is needed here, not fantasy.”

  She was too old for faerie tales. Composing herself was proving to be a difficult task as she tackled her falling tears and runny nose.

  “Oh, bugger it all!”

  Freddi increased her pace, looking for a place to sit and cry to her heart's content. A small wood ran along the town, so she entered into it, finding solace by a large tree with soft moss surrounding it. Freddi wanted to scream to the heavens, to demand an answer for her suffering. It is not right, it is not fair at all. I have tried to be brave, I have looked for the brighter side, and I have done my best to come out of this situation with my head held high, but none of it has seemed to matter.