by Anne Herries
generally known as a bruising rider.' She looked up at him. 'You realise we must end the search
after what has happened this morning? We cannot continue it now. Someone might die and that
would help no one.'
Harry frowned. 'Yes, I think you are right. I had intended it to go on—but it is too dangerous. If the
Marquis is ready to fire on a defenceless woman, then he would not hesitate to kill Bellows or his
friends.'
'I was not defenceless, I had my sister.' Beatrice's sense of humour was coming to her rescue. The
warmth of Harry's body pressed against her was making her feel things she had vowed she would
never allow herself to feel again, but she could not help herself.
'Yes, I had forgot,' Harry murmured and smiled oddly. 'One more debt I owe Olivia.'
'You should not speak of your marriage as a debt,' Beatrice said, overcoming her own feelings in
defence of her sister. 'Olivia is a lovely, generous person, and you have confessed several times
that you are fond of her.'
'I do not deny it. I do feel a warm affection for your sister, Beatrice.'
Beatrice saw the hot glow in his eyes, and looked quickly away. How could she be mistaken in
that look? Harry wanted her. His kisses had told her that last night, even as his words denied her.
How was she to take him? This was unfair!
'You must not tease me, sir,' she said. 'I was foolish last night—but it was because of—of things
you had said...'
'I know it,' Harry confessed, his expression becoming serious. 'You should feel no shame,
Beatrice. This is all my fault, none of the blame can lie with you. I must make an end to this, put
everything straight. This has gone on too long, Beatrice. I must speak to Olivia.'
'Yes, I...'
Beatrice stopped speaking abruptly as she saw Lady Susanna, Nan, Bellows, Lily and even Ida
following on behind Olivia.
'It seems the whole household has turned out to rescue me,' Harry said and smiled oddly. 'Truly,
Beatrice, I have never known such devotion in my life, despite all the legions of servants I
employ.'
'Are you badly hurt, my lord?' enquired Bellows, coming up to them at the double. 'Let me have
him, now, Miss Beatrice.'
'Beatrice and Nan will help me,' Harry said, clearly in charge once more. If he had been feeling
dizzy earlier, there was no sign of it now. 'You will find my horse wandering back there
somewhere—and the Marquis of Sywell in a drunken stupor. You will oblige me by letting Mr
Burneck know his master is lying on the damp ground unconscious, and then you can bring poor
Rufus home...'
Harry had been about to say more when they all heard the most tremendous bang. Everyone turned
round in time to see a little cloud of smoke issuing into the air from the direction of Roade House.
'Papa!' Beatrice cried. 'He must have fitted the new stove...'
'He was in the kitchen when we left,' Nan said, looking frightened. 'I warned him not to build the
fire too high, Beatrice, but he said he wanted to test it to the limit.'
'Take Harry's arm,' Beatrice said, and as Nan did so, she let go herself and began to run towards
the back of the house. 'Papa... Oh, let Papa be all right...'
Her heart was beating wildly. Oh, why would her father meddle with such dangerous things? She
could not bear to lose him too. If anything had happened to her dear Papa...
As she drew near, she saw someone stumble from the gaping hole in the kitchen wall. His face
was blackened with soot, and his clothes had been singed by the heat, but he called to her
cheerfully as he saw her.
'No need to worry, Beatrice. I am not hurt. It was just as well everyone else had gone out, though.
I think I've done more damage this time than I did before.'
'Oh, Papa...' Beatrice said and uncharacteristically burst into tears. She flung her arms about him,
and clung to him sobbing her heart out. 'I thought you might be dead or badly injured...and I really
could not bear that.'
'There, there,' Mr Roade said, patting her arm awkwardly. He seemed bewildered by her show of
emotion. Beatrice was always so calm and sensible. 'No need to take on so, m'dear. It was just a
little bang and some smoke, that's all.'
Beatrice shook her head. Now that the tears had started, she simply could not stop. She realised
that she had not cried like this even after her mother died. She had held her grief inside then for
her father's sake, but now it was pouring out of her, all the grief and hurt she had held inside her
for so very long. Suddenly, it had all become too much to bear.
She turned, instinctively looking for Harry, and then he was there, taking her into his arms,
bending to sweep her off her feet and carrying her inside the house and into the parlour, where he
laid her on the sofa and knelt down on the carpet by her side.
'I am sorry...' Beatrice wept. 'I cannot seem to stop...'
'I am not surprised,' Harry said gently. 'You have been forced to carry too many burdens for too
long.' He handed her his handkerchief, which was very large and very white. 'Wipe your eyes,
dearest Beatrice. You have no more need to cry. I am here to take care of you now. You will
never be so alone again.'
She looked up at him, her eyes drenched in tears. 'But you cannot mean it,' she said. 'You are
promised to Olivia. You must marry her. It is the only proper and honourable thing to do.'
'It might be if I would have him,' Olivia's voice said from the doorway, and they both turned their
heads to look at her. She was smiling, a hint of mischief in her lovely face. 'How can my sensible
sister be so very foolish as to imagine I would marry a man who is not in the least in love with
me? I have known for days that Harry was head over heels in love with you, Beatrice—but until
this morning when I saw the way you acted when you thought he might be dead, I did not know
how you felt about him.'
'Did you not?' said Lady Susanna, coming to stand beside her in the doorway. 'How odd. I knew it
the first time I heard dear Beatrice say his name. And of course, I knew that Harry was in love
with her when he bought her that gown.' Her laugh had a merry sound. 'It is the first time I have
ever known my son to go shopping without being pushed into it. He must be utterly devoted to you,
Beatrice.'
'Mama...' Harry warned, a glint in his eyes. 'No, really, you go too far...what about that emerald
necklace I sent you for your birthday?'
'Which I have no doubt you sent your agent to order from the very best jeweller in town...'
'Touché, Mama!' Harry laughed. 'Well, I must admit I do not normally like to visit any commercial
establishment other than my tailor or my club. Unless it is to buy a horse, of course.'
Beatrice was blushing madly, her cheeks on fire. 'I... Do you really not want to marry Harry,
Olivia? I was sure you were beginning to change your mind.'
'No, honestly, Beatrice, I do not,' Olivia said. 'I have been hoping he would not ask me again, but
my answer would still have been no had he done so, which he has not.'
Harry had risen to his feet. 'Would anyone care to hear my opinion of all this?' he asked. 'Or have
you all made up your minds already?'
'Surely you are not going to deny you are in love with Beatrice?' his mother cried. 'Really, Harry, I
cannot think what gets into you sometimes. If you throw a
way this chance of happiness I shall
wash my hands of you. Please, I beg you. Do not be like your father. His father and mine arranged
our marriage when we were born. Your father offered for me before I was properly out of the
schoolroom, because he felt it his duty. He did not love me—and I did not love him. Fortunately,
we became friends in time, and we both found solace in other people.' She paused, her cheeks a
little flushed. 'I was in love once.'
'Were you, Mama?' Harry was sidetracked by this startling revelation. 'I never knew that...when?'
He frowned, then nodded to himself. 'Was it with Lillibet's father?'
'Yes...' She smiled at him. 'If I seemed to show her favour, Harry, it was because of my darling
Robert. We had a brief affair, and then he died. He left me his child as a farewell gift.'
'No wonder you were so distraught when she died,' Harry said and the sadness came into his eyes.
'That was my fault, Mama. If I had not played with the children of the grooms, it would not have
happened. It should have been me who died that day.'
'No!' Lady Susanna crossed the room to where he was standing. She looked up at him for a
moment, then reached up to stroke his cheek with her hand. 'I would have been equally as grief-
stricken whichever of my children had died. I loved you both so much, though I fear I did not show
it enough. I had learned to discipline myself, you see. It was the only way I could live. I was tied
to a man who was my friend, but who did not love me—and the man I loved so very much was
dead. How could I dare to show love? When Lillibet died, I felt that she had been taken from me
in payment for my sins. If I had shown too much love for you, you too might have been taken from
me...'
'Mama...' Harry stared at her. He was clearly very moved by this dramatic declaration. 'I never
dreamed you felt this way...'
'How could you?' she asked, and smiled at him. 'You learned by my example, Harry. You learned
to hide your feelings, to protect yourself against love...but I do most humbly beg you not to do so
now. If you do not ask Beatrice to marry you, you will lose the most precious thing you are ever
likely to possess in your life.'
Harry was silent for a moment. He looked down at Beatrice, and then at all the expectant faces.
Behind his mother and Olivia were grouped Nan, Mr Roade and the servants.
'Bellows, you were sent to fetch my horse. Please do so at once,' he said, establishing his
authority. 'Mrs Willow, you will oblige me by making some tea for Beatrice, and take Lily and Ida
with you if you please...'
'Yes, of course, my lord.' Nan smiled and turned to shoo the gaping servants ahead of her.
'Mr Roade, I would much appreciate it if you could organise both Lady Susanna's coachman and
the one I hired in Northampton. I believe we should all remove to my house in Cambridgeshire as
soon as possible, for there will not be much comfort to be found here. As cold as my house at
Camberwell is, we can reach there before nightfall and be assured of a warm welcome if I send a
groom ahead. Bellows may stay here to arrange repairs, and the servants can send our baggage on
with the carter tomorrow...'
'Ah yes,' Mr Roade said, his eyes brightening. 'Is that the house you told me was so very old and
draughty?'
'I have several old and draughty houses,' Harry replied serenely. 'Do not despair at today's failure,
sir. I dare say if we give the matter some thought, we shall discover where your calculations went
a little awry...and in time we shall be sure to hit on the answer.'
'Yes, I am almost sure I know already,' Mr Roade said and beamed at him. 'I think we shall get on
very well together, Ravensden. I see that you are a man of excellent sense. I knew how it would be
the day you came. Did I not tell you that Beatrice would make an excellent wife?'
'Yes, indeed you did, sir.'
Mr Roade nodded as if he had arranged it all, looked kindly at his daughter and went out of the
room.
'Miss Olivia,' Harry said and smiled at her. 'It is and has been my intention for some time to make
you an offer...not of marriage, but of my friendship. I intend to settle ten thousand pounds on you,
money that cannot be taken away from you should I suddenly lose my mind and decide I do not
care for the colour of your gown. I do hope you will be kind enough to accept this offer. It sits ill
with me that I have been the cause of your downfall and I must—I must!— make some reparation
for my own peace of mind.'
'I thank you for your kindness, Lord Ravensden,' Olivia said, and dimpled prettily. 'I shall not
refuse your generous offer, for it will make me independent—and you must know that I have made
up my mind never to marry...'
'Olivia...' Beatrice said, looking anxious. 'Surely one day...'
'I shall not marry, unless I find a man I can love as much as my sister loves you, Harry,' she said
and gave them her sweet smile. 'I shall go upstairs and pack a few necessities for our journey. Lily
can help me. We will pack your things as well, Beatrice—and I am sure Nan will be pleased to
help Lady Susanna.'
'Thank you, Miss Olivia,' Harry said. 'No, dash it all—why stand on ceremony? We have fallen
into the habit of first names, why should we change it now?'
'Why indeed?' Olivia said, 'especially as I expect to hear that we shall be related by marriage very
soon.'
'Olivia!' Beatrice protested. 'He has not asked me yet.'
'I have not yet had the chance,' Harry said. He looked at his mother as Olivia went out. 'If you
imagine, Mama, that I intend to ask Beatrice to be my wife with you watching, you are very
wrong.'
'As long as you do it,' Lady Susanna said. 'I shall take no other for my daughter-in-law, dear
Beatrice.' Her laughter tinkled. 'And now I really must go or I do believe my son will lose his
temper...'
'Harry...' Beatrice murmured and he looked down at her as his mother left and they were at last
alone. 'You must not mind them. They are all so interested in what is going to happen, you see.
Even poor Lily and Ida.'
'The house will be repaired as I have said,' Harry told her. 'The servants will have a place here—
unless you choose to take them with you, of course. Others will be employed as Bellows sees fit.
Mrs Willow will have sufficient money for all that is required to run the house properly. Your
father will have a home with us, naturally, but he must also have this house so that he can feel
independent and come here when he chooses...besides, I dare say it has many cherished memories
for him.'
Beatrice reached for his hand and held it tightly. 'How thoughtful you are,' she said, her throat
tight. 'But you do not really mean to let him experiment in your house?'
'My house in Camberwell is ancient and hardly worth preserving,' Harry said and grinned at her
wickedly. 'Wait until you have experienced how cold it can get. Only Ravensden itself is bearable
in the winter. I prefer my house in town. Believe me, my darling. Your father will do us all a
favour if he manages to blow Camberwell up. We shall then be able to build a modern house,
which will be very much warmer.'
Beatrice laughed. Her tears had all dried long since. She got to her feet, gazing up at him
uncertainly. It seemed that she was to be given all her dreams, and
she found it hard to believe
even now.
'Do you really want to marry me, Harry?'
'How can you doubt it, my dearest?' He took her hand, carrying it to his lips to kiss the palm. 'I
think I have loved you, if not from the moment we met, at least from the moment you came rushing
into my bedchamber with your hair wild -about your face. Indeed, I fell in love with you when you
tended me as I lay so ill...'
'You called out for Merry,' Beatrice said. 'I wondered if she was your mistress, but then you told
me she was Lord Dawlish's wife.'
'There have been women,' Harry said, his gaze narrowing as he looked at her. 'But none I loved.
Mama was right. I chose not to let love into my life, because I was afraid of it. I loved Lillibet and
she died. I thought that if I let myself love again...'
'Yes, I understand,' Beatrice reached up to touch a finger to his lips. 'I was hurt once when I was
very young, and I thought that I would never love anyone again. I did not realise then that he had
hurt my pride more than my heart. You taught me what real pain is, Harry. I thought my heart
would break when I believed you would marry Olivia—and I was desperate when you were
thrown from your horse this morning.'
'I heard you beg me to live.' He smiled tenderly at her. 'I must confess that I was not as badly
shaken as I allowed you to believe.'
'Had you not recovered, I believe I should have died...but I knew it was your duty to ask Olivia,
and that I had no right to love you.'
'At first I really thought I had no choice but to beg Olivia to be my wife,' Harry said. 'I had given
my promise to your sister, and because of my carelessness, Lord Burton threw her out—but then I
began to realise that I could not marry her when my heart belonged to you. And yet it was too soon
to speak to you. I had to wait in all decency...' He gave her a rueful look. 'Besides, I was not even
sure my feelings were returned. It was only when I kissed you and felt your response—then I knew
that some other way of settling the affair must be found.'
'Oh, Harry...' Beatrice smiled through more tears. 'I ran away last night because I was so ashamed
of what I had done...offering myself to you so shamelessly.'
'And I wanted to take your sweet offer,' Harry murmured throatily. 'I wanted it so badly, Beatrice
