“But do you trust me, Primrose?”
“I do,” she said. “More than you can possibly know. I’ve never known a man as honorable as you.”
“Then that’s a start, don’t you think? I want us to be happy together. I’d never given thought to the marriage. But in facing the prospect now, I can state emphatically that I want it to be a happy one… for both of us. And I can think of no better footing to start on than trusting one another.”
“There is love,” she said.
“So there is,” he said, and the warmth in his gaze as he uttered those words made her yearn to reach for him. She wanted to press her face against his shoulder and hide there.
“And with trust, perhaps we shall get there,” he continued, “Perhaps we shall get there.”
“One day?”
“One day,” he agreed. “Now, you should go and ready yourself for dinner. I have to write to Nicholas and send him on errand for us, and for Miss Wyverne. With any luck I can get it out on the last mail coach of the day.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Dr. Nicholas Warner found himself in the uncomfortable position of playing spy for his brother. It had been easy enough to determine where to gather more information about Miss Wyverne, per Cornelius’ request. The dowdy spinster’s name was suddenly on the tip of every tongue in Bath. Abducted from the street, whisked away in a hired carriage while out shopping with her friends, the girl had suddenly garnered all of the attention that had previously been denied her.
He didn’t understand why Cornelius needed to know about the girl, other than the possibility that it might have something to do with Samford, his betrothed, and his new wards. Regardless, when the missive had been delivered asking him to look into it, he had not hesitated. Now, standing on the doorstep of the Villiers’ townhouse in a respectable but not quite posh street, he questioned the wisdom of his ready cooperation.
Lifting the heavy knocker and letting it fall, Nicholas waited and silently cursed his brother. The butler answered and the dour face of the man did not make Nicholas reconsider his current irritation with his sibling.
“Dr. Nicholas Warner here to see Miss Judith Villiers.”
“Miss Villiers already has a physician,” the butler said firmly.
“I am not here in the capacity of my vocation, my good man. I am here because Miss Villiers and I have a common acquaintance… Miss Wyverne.” To call the girl an acquaintance was more than a stretch. He’d seen her at the Pump Room and once at the Assembly Rooms when Viola had dragged him, rather begrudgingly, to a ball.
“Forgive me, sir. Please do come in. Terrible thing about poor Miss Wyverne,” the butler said. “Miss Villiers is not really accepting callers but, under the circumstances, I think she’d be relieved to talk to someone else who knows Miss Wyverne.”
Given what he’d learned from Miss Sally Carter, whom he had visited prior to making his way to the Villiers’ house, Nicholas had his doubts about it. He wasn’t all that thrilled to be there either as Miss Carter had said, rather dryly, that if he batted his eyes at Miss Villiers all would be confessed.
In the drawing room, he waited only a few moments before a girl entered. She was probably older than Viola, truth be told, but she was very much a girl. There was something childlike about her.
“Miss Villiers, I’ve come to discuss Miss Wyverne and the events that led to her abduction,” he said preemptively.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I am Dr. Nicholas Warner. Lord Ambrose is my half-brother and he finds himself curiously invested in the welfare of Miss Wyverne, due to concerns that his fiancée has about the character of Lord Samford. I believe you are acquainted with him are you not?”
Miss Villiers stepped deeper into the room and sank heavily onto the settee. “I’ve done something terrible, Dr. Warner. But I didn’t know it was terrible. I thought I was helping.”
“Miss Wyverne or Lord Samford?”
“Well, both naturally. I just assumed that Kitty had gotten her pride wounded and that if he proceeded with the elopement, she would get over it,” Miss Villiers said forlornly.
“To clarify, you helped a man you barely know, a man your friend professed to want nothing to do with, to abduct her for the sake of forcing her into marriage?”
“Well, yes. But he’s very handsome and he’s titled. And Kitty will never get a better offer!”
“Where was he taking her?”
“To Gretna Green. Where else would anyone elope to?” the girl asked. “You don’t think me a terrible person, do you, Dr. Warner? I really only wanted to see her wed to someone who would elevate her station.”
“Miss Villiers, you ought to have wanted what would have made your friend happy. With friends such as you, Miss Wyverne hardly needs enemies. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to see what I can do about sparing your friend a fate that might very well be worse than death.”
“What could be worse than death?”
Nicholas shook his head. “You are the silliest of girls. Your father ought to lock you up and never let you see the light of day again. Samford is a villain! A man whose family has long been involved in blackmail and abduction schemes! His sister attempted to murder Lady Wolverton after faking her own death and framing her husband for it! What on earth were you thinking?”
“He’s not like them!”
It was like talking to a wall. The girl was absolutely daft. “Good day, Miss Villiers.”
Nicholas left in a hurry, stalking out of the house and returning to the townhouse he and Viola had taken for the time being in the Royal Circus. He would dispatch a letter to Cornelius immediately. With luck, he could get it on the next mail coach. If not, he’d be riding ahead to Hungerford and intercepting it there. Time was of the essence for Miss Wyverne, after all. Traveling by private hired coach would be slow going. They might be able to catch them before Gretna Green, but it would be a near thing.
Cursing Cornelius, cursing Lord Samford, and hoping he did not wind up in the middle of some dashing rescue attempt that would lead them all on a merry chase through England, Nicholas quickened his pace as he made for home.
*
The townhouse on Curzon Street exploded with sound. Hyacinth was there, attempting to curb the exuberant shouts of the children as Arabella constantly reminded them to mind their manners. Servants bustled to and fro, carrying bags up to various bedchambers.
Descending the stairs, wearing one of the simple day dresses that Madame Le Faye had completed and sent over early that morning, Prim listened to those familiar sounds with relish. She’d never been parted from her siblings for so long before. It raised questions for her though. Would she and Cornelius truly share their home with her entire family or after a time would he shuffle them off to cottages on the estate or to other estates altogether? He had said that he would not, and she believed him to be a man of his word. But at the same time, no man wanted his in-laws underfoot. And no woman wanted to be a third wheel living with a married couple.
Frowning, she didn’t realize she had reached the bottom step until a warm, sturdy body hurtled into her, hugging her fiercely.
“I th-th-thought you was dead,” Rowan said. “They said you w-w-w-wasn’t but I was afraid, Prim!”
The slight stammer was more pronounced than usual, a clear indication of how upset the dear boy truly had been. Prim sat down on the last step and hugged him tightly to her. Her arm still pained her, but she had left off the hideous white bandage and was instead simply using one of the paisley shawls from Madame Le Faye as a sling. It was a vanity, but one she needed. Her pride wouldn’t allow her to appear weak. “I’m not dead, obviously. I’m quite well, if perhaps a bit like a lame bird.” For good measure, she jerked her head in the direction of her wounded shoulder. “It popped out like a wishbone, so I’m told.”
He grinned. “It did not! Now, I know you’re well. You only tell big ’uns when you’re well!”
That grin was worth it, she tho
ught. Turning to face her other siblings, she saw Lila’s reservations and Hyacinth’s fear. She’d tackle them one at a time, she decided. “Lila, why don’t you and Rowan let Lady Arabella take you into the breakfast room and get a bite to eat? Poor Hyacinth looks like she’s bursting to tell me what you all did in Bath without me.”
“It was so much fun!” Rowan gushed.
“You’ll tell me about your fun later… after Hyacinth tells me whether or not you behaved,” Prim said with a slightly menacing tone.
Rowan rose immediately and went to take Arabella’s hand. The older woman smiled. Poor Rowan, he was incapable of behaving, bless him.
When the children were out of earshot, Hyacinth rushed toward her. “You don’t have to do this, Prim.”
“I do actually… it’s for the best, Hyacinth, for all of us.”
“You said you never wanted to marry… that you would never let a man have such control in your life,” her sister reminded her sharply.
Words spoken when they were much younger, when it was easier to be ruled by fear than by desire, than by the idea that, perhaps, she could have something more with Cornelius Garrett than she had ever imagined possible. To even say such a thing was the height of foolish romanticism and yet the thought was there, the belief that he truly was not like other men.
“Hy, I’m not being forced into this. The simple truth is, we should be grateful that he is the sort of man whose honor required him to offer. We are not the sort of women men are held accountable for ruining, especially when the ruination was merely circumstantial rather than factual,” Prim said.
“And was it? Merely circumstantial? You’ve been alone with him for days!” Hyacinth’s voice was little more than a scandalized whisper.
“Yes,” Prim said. “It was circumstantial. I was injured, Hy. You know that. Do you really think he is the type of man who would take advantage of such a thing?”
“No. But it’s the fact that you seem to have no suspicion of him that I find concerning, Prim! You are always suspicious of men. What spell has he cast that you are suddenly trusting and fair-minded when it comes to the opposite sex? That is the source of my concern. Any man who could sway your mind so easily could also sway your heart and I do not wish to see you hurt!”
Prim entered the drawing room just off the entryway and dragged Hyacinth in with her. “If I don’t marry him, I will be considered a fallen woman. Which would not be so terrible given our lowered circumstances before, Hyacinth, but if he means to provide a life for Lila as his recognized sister, she is already at a disadvantage for being the daughter of a woman who was a known—” She stopped, unable to utter the word.
“Prostitute,” Hyacinth finished for her.
“Yes. That is bad enough. But for her elder sister to also be the subject of such controversy… and given that Lord Ambrose has his own infamy to contend with, can you not see that this is the only way to ensure her future and Rowan’s? And yours, too! Whether you choose to marry or to seek employment or simply to remain with us, I don’t want people to whisper about you or about the children!”
“And I don’t want you to marry a man, and tie yourself to him forever, as a sacrifice,” Hyacinth shot back.
“That isn’t the only reason,” Prim admitted. “I like him, Hyacinth. I might even more than like him, but I don’t know. It was like that from the moment I met him and this just feels so…. inevitable. Like fate is driving me down this path. If I don’t do it, I’m terribly afraid I will regret it for the rest of my life. And not out of some altruistic need to see to the welfare of my family. I think, ultimately, the way it will benefit everyone else is just an excuse, a way to give in to what I want without sacrificing my pride in the offing.” The admission was freeing. The weight of that knowledge had been pressing on her and having now uttered it to her sister, all she felt was relief.
“You really want to marry him?” Hyacinth asked, her eyes wide and her voice filled with shock.
“Yes. I do. I can’t explain it any more than that. I’m not in love with him. I don’t think. But I recognize that I could be, that there is something in this connection between us that is so different from everything else I have known in my life. Don’t worry for me, Hyacinth. I know what I’m doing and I will be fine. We all will be.” It was a fiercely uttered promise. To punctuate, Prim took her sister’s hand and held it tightly. “We will be fine.”
“I think we might be, after all,” Hyacinth replied softly. “I pray he does not break your heart. I do not want to hang for then breaking his head.”
Prim laughed. “Then I shall endeavor to always be happy and spare you the hangman’s noose. Let’s go get breakfast before Rowan eats it all.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The letter from Nicholas slipped from his fingers and fell to the table as Cornelius let out a weary and heartfelt sigh. It had been a brief missive, but one that contained a wealth of information, as well as a clipping from the Bath news sheet that detailed the abduction. It had arrived early in the morning aboard one of the mail coaches traveling from Bath. Nicholas had done as he asked and looked into the whereabouts of Miss Wyverne. And once more, he had to concede that, perhaps, Primrose was correct and he was naive.
The very notion that Samford might have abducted Miss Wyverne would never have occurred to him. But Prim seemed to have some instinct about when men would behave badly. What had occurred in her life to give her such insight? Perhaps it was cowardly that he did not truly want to know.
The children shuffled in, their faces animated and excited. He’d known that they had arrived as they had come on the same coach as the letter from Nicholas. It was likely the only time in Arabella’s life she’d ever ridden on a mail coach. But it had been necessary for them to reach London in time.
While Rowan and Lila fell on the heaping sideboard with ravenous appetites, Arabella came and sat beside him. “So you will marry her tomorrow?”
“I had thought to. But we may have to do it today.”
“Surely one day will not make such a difference! Will it?” she asked.
Cornelius met his aunt’s questioning gaze and spoke candidly. “Arabella, I’m afraid that Samford has done something horrible. And if I do not leave for Scotland almost immediately, a young girl may find herself tied to him for the rest of her life.”
“If she marries him, that won’t be long,” Arabella added. There were rumors about the death of his first wife. Rumors that they were all well aware of. “Brides and grooms who get tangled up with that family have a way of expiring most unexpectedly.”
“True enough. That is even more reason to act swiftly. Pardon me, Aunt, I need to discuss this with my betrothed.”
Cornelius rose and was poised to exit the breakfast room when the doors opened once more and Hyacinth and Prim entered arm in arm. He saw the happy smile on her face and the ease she had with her sister.
“Primrose, may we speak privately?”
Her lips pursed in a concerned line. “Is something wrong?”
Cornelius held the door open and they stepped together into the hallway. “You were right about Lord Samford… again. He’s taken Miss Wyverne captive and is absconding with her to Scotland.”
“Oh, dear,” Prim said on a shuddering breath. “That is more than I had feared he was capable of. Are you entirely certain she is unwilling? Perhaps, he swayed her to elope.”
“He did not. She was abducted by an unknown person on the street… she had refused him completely. Nicholas discovered that one of her companions aided Samford in the abduction despite Miss Wyverne’s very firm assertion that she had no interest in him as a suitor at all.”
“What will we do to help her?”
“We will go to the church at once. I have the license. We can be married this morning, and then I will leave for Scotland on horseback and attempt to intercept them before he can force her hand entirely.”
“Only if I follow in a coach… she doesn’t know you, Cornelius.”
/> “She doesn’t know you either,” he pointed out.
Prim gazed at him as if he were some sort of dunderhead. “No, but I don’t pose a threat to her. And yes, I know you do not pose a threat to her, but she doesn’t. And right now, she has no reason to trust men.”
“I don’t think—”
“She’s been taken from everything she knows by a man who doesn’t even see her as a person. Just a means to an end. She will be traumatized. And you do not understand, Cornelius, what it feels like to be powerless. I’m going with you. I will not just abandon her to the fates.”
Cornelius stared at her, at the stubborn jut of her chin and the fire flashing in her eyes. She was magnificent and he was well and truly sunk. He’d worried initially that it was only infatuation, that it would fade and, over time, they would grow discontented with one another. But that worry fled in the face of one startling realization. He was already in love with her. Hopelessly besotted and entranced by her wit and her will. But that was not something she was ready to hear from him. Not yet. So he would bide his time.
“If we take the mail coach as far north as possible from the city, we can then hire a carriage and perhaps even be ahead of them,” he said. “But not without our vows being spoken first. We’ve flouted enough conventions already.”
And he didn’t want to wait. Not another day. The sooner she was his wife, the sooner she could be his in every way.
*
They hadn’t gone to an inn, though that was just as well for Kitty’s sake. The last thing she needed was someone recognizing her or Samford. Instead, he’d taken them to a hunting box outside of Cirencester that belonged to a friend. Given that it was littered with empty bottles, discarded playing cards and a few hair ribbons, she could only guess that hunting was hardly what it was used for. True to his word, he hadn’t touched her. But he had locked her in the bedchamber she’d been given. She’d spent hours the night before using every hairpin she possessed to try and pick the lock, all to no avail. There would be no housebreaking for her. That was for certain.
The Awakening of Lord Ambrose (The Lost Lords Book 6) Page 18
