Anne faced forward. They were too far from the stairs to have any chance of outrunning her. “Matthew, can you get Rose safely down the stairs?”
“Aye, my lady. I am very strong.”
Anne prayed he was. “Get her down the stairs and out to James—quick.
“I cannot leave you, my lady,” he said.
Anne released Rose and Matthew hugged her closer. “You must save the lady,” she hissed. “I can take care of myself. She is just a woman.” Anne whirled.
Their attacker might be just a woman, but she was a woman racing toward them as if the devil nipped at her heels—a women who stood a head taller than her.
Candle in hand, Anne walked quickly toward her. An instant later, she was within ten feet of the woman and stopped in the middle of the hallway. “Halt, madam. I am Viscountess Buchanan, the Earl of Buchanan’s daughter-in-law.”
The woman stopped so quickly she stumbled forward two paces before catching herself.
“What are you doing with my husband’s sister?” Anne demanded.
The woman’s eyes flicked past her and came back her face. “You are not supposed to be here.” She started forward as if to hurry past Anne’s left side, but Anne slid into her path.
The woman halted. “Out of my way,” she growled.
“My husband will not be pleased that you mistreated his sister, Rebecca,” Anne said.
Fear flickered in her eyes, then was followed by fury. Anne noted the subtle change in her stance and realized the woman was about to charge. Rebecca lunged. Anne whipped aside and stuck out her foot as she hurtled past. Rebecca stumbled, hands out, and crashed into the wall. She dropped to the carpet and lay motionless.
Anne retreated two paces, heart pounding, knees so weak she feared they would give out. Bootfalls echoed from the direction Rebecca had come. Anne whirled and raced down the hallway in the opposite direction. She reached the stairs and was forced to slow in the pitch darkness. A hand on each wall of the narrow staircase, she forced herself to slow, and prayed her legs wouldn’t give out.
At the bottom, she gave thanks that Matthew and Rose were nowhere to be seen, then hurried through the kitchen pantry and out into the cool night. She pumped her legs faster and reached the front of the house in seconds. She nearly cried, at sight of Matthew and Rose passing through the wrought-iron gate where James stood.
A moment later, Anne reached the wrought-iron gate then turned and nearly collided with Matthew. “Dear Lord,” she burst out. “What are you doing here?”
“James is assisting Lady Rose,” Matthew said. “I couldnae leave you there alone.”
She grabbed his arm and pulled him into a run.
A shout went up somewhere near the house. They sprinted around the corner. Anne thought her lungs would burst, but she kept going. They reached the carriage. She didn’t wait for help, but grasped the door and jumped inside and onto the seat beside Rose.
“Hurry, James, we must go now.”
Matthew leapt inside, pulling the door closed behind him.
Anne pulled Rose close as the carriage tilted left, then jolted into motion hard enough for to have to grab onto the handle. Rose cried into Anne’s bodice and Anne willed herself not to burst into tears herself.
Chapter Eleven
Kennedy guided his horse up the drive to Chesterfield, with John riding alongside. They continued around the east side of the house to the rear, and Kennedy brought the animal to a halt at sight of the open servants’ entrance. He leapt from the saddle and raced inside. He knew this part of the house like the back of his hand. When his mother had been alive, they often entertained guests here. After her death, Kennedy spent many a day in the deserted rooms.
Kennedy spotted the tapers and tinderbox on the pantry shelf, and cursed.
A shadow filled the doorway. “Someone is using this entrance,” John said.
Kennedy’s gut clenched. Rose is here.
He forced back the compulsion to race up the darkened stairs. He was no longer fifteen. The narrow staircase was pitch black at night and he was sure to break his fool neck.
He lit a candle, and said to John, “Come on,” then hurried from the pantry into the kitchen and took the stairs to the right.
They reached the fourth floor. Light spilled from an open door halfway down the hallway. He blew out the candle, tossed it aside, and raced toward the open door. He and John burst inside the room to find a man sitting on the mattress beside a woman.
“Rose,” Kennedy growled, and took two steps toward the man before strong fingers seized his arm and yanked him back.
“That is not Rose,” John said.
For an instant, Kennedy didn’t understand, then he whipped his head around and looked at the couple. The man stood, staring at them. The woman was not Rose.
Not Rose. Where was his sister?
Kennedy yanked free of John and said to the man, “Where is my sister?”
He shook his head. “I dinnae know. I returned to find Rebecca unconscious in the hallway.”
Kennedy rounded the bed, then took the woman by the shoulders. Her head lolled to the side. He shook her.
“Leave her be!” the man shouted.
Kennedy yanked his gaze onto the man and he backed up two steps. Kennedy looked back at the woman and she shook her again.
John appeared at his side. “Here, maybe this will help.” He tossed water from a pitcher onto the woman’s face.
She sputtered and shook her head. Her eyes snapped open. Her gaze met Kennedy’s and her eyes widened.
“Where is my sister?” he demanded.
She looked at the man.
Kennedy gave her a hard shake. “Where is Lady Rose?”
“A woman took her.”
Panic muddled his thoughts. “A woman? What woman? Where did she take her?”
“She-she said she was Lady Buchanan.”
“Lady Buchanan?” he repeated. “Jacqueline?”
“N-nae,” the woman stuttered. “Viscountess Buchanan, Lady Rose’s sister-in-law.”
“Anne?” Had he heard correctly? “My wife was here?”
The woman’s eyes widened. “You are Viscount Buchanan?” She shrank away from him.
He released her and straightened. “You are certain it was Viscountess Buchanan who was here?”
She nodded vigorously. “She had a lad with her. She tripped me and I hit the wall.” The woman turned her head to the side and showed him the bruise forming on her forehead.
Kennedy could hardly credit it. He looked at John. “What the bloody hell was my wife doing here?”
John shook his head. “I can’t imagine.”
Kennedy looked at the man. “Who are you?”
“Angus Dunning. I bring food to Rebecca while she is tending to the young lady.”
“What you mean ‘tending to the young lady’?”
“Her father didn’t want to put her into an insane asylum,” Rebecca said. “So, he paid me to care for her here. He said it was better than the insane asylum,” she quickly added. “He is very kind.”
“Kind?” Kennedy snarled. “We shall see if that defense holds up in court.” He looked at John. “I must return home. Will you keep them here until I return?”
“Here, now,” Angus said. “There’s no call to treat us like criminals. We were paid to take care of the young lady for her father. Rebecca and I can leave anytime we like.”
John flashed white teeth. “You are free to try, lad.”
Kennedy glimpsed the man’s wide eyes an instant before he whirled and strode from the room.
Kennedy reached home half an hour later and leapt off his horse almost before the beast stopped. He bounded up the steps and banged the knocker until the door was yanked open.
“Whoever you are—” Bingham broke off. “I beg your pardon, my lord. I didn’t realize—”
Kennedy pushed past him. “Where is my wife?”
“In the Burgundy guest chamber, sir, with Lady Rose.”
<
br /> “My sister is here?” he said in a harsh whisper.
Bingham nodded. “Aye,” he replied, but Kennedy was already racing up the stairs.
He burst into the Burgundy guest chambers to find Anne standing with her mother and sister while the doctor sat on the bed, blocking view of his patient.
Kennedy took a step forward. “Rose?”
The doctor stood, and Rose cried, “Kennedy!”
Kennedy drew a sharp breath. His sister sat propped up in bed, her left cheek, yellowed with a bruise. He strode across the room to the bed, fell to his knees and pulled her to him. She threw her arms around his neck and he buried his face in her neck and wept.
* * *
Anne felt Kennedy’s eyes on her for the dozenth time as she and Matthew related their tale, but she kept her gaze on her hands clasped in her lap. Louisa sat between her and her mother on the divan in the drawing room, for Louisa refused to be sent to bed. Kennedy sat in the chair to the left, as Matthew continued his story.
“Her ladyship refused to leave with Lady Rose and I,” Matthew said, and Anne winced.
“What did she do?” her husband asked.
“She stayed to fight the evil woman while Lady Rose and I escaped.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Kennedy stare at her again.
“Was that when you tripped her?” Kennedy asked.
Anne looked sharply at him. “How do you know that?”
“I had a talk with Rebecca.”
“Oh,” she said, and fell silent again.
“I got Lady Rose outside to James,” Matthew went on. “Then her ladyship came, and we were able to escape.” Matthew stood straighter, as if waiting for further instructions.
Kennedy rose and extended his hand to the lad. “I owe you more than I can ever repay.”
The boy looked up at him in surprise then clasped Kennedy’s hand and they shook.
“Name any price,” Kennedy said, “and it is yours.”
Anne hid a smile when Matthew said, “A gentleman never takes money for rescuing a lady.”
Kennedy stared, as if uncertain what to say, then nodded. “When Rose is better, we would consider it an honor if you would join us for dinner. She will want to thank you personally.”
Startlement flashed across the boy’s face, then he said in a solemn voice, “It would be my honor.”
A knock came to the door and Mr. Bingham entered.” A message has arrived for you, my lord.” He crossed to Kennedy and handed him a note, then waited.
Kennedy scanned the note, which was from John, stating that the constable Kennedy had sent for had arrived at Chesterfield. He had Rebecca and Angus in custody, and Kennedy was to appear in the morning to make formal charges.
Kennedy looked at Bingham. “Bingham, please send a note to John with my thanks, and tell him I will visit him tomorrow.”
Bingham bowed, then left.
“Matthew,” Kennedy said, “my carriage will take you home.”
“There is no need for that. I have a horse.”
Kennedy shook his head. “Indulge me in this, lad. I would rest easier if my coach takes you. I will direct the driver to pick you up tomorrow so that you may retrieve your horse in daylight hours.”
“If that is what you wish, my lord.”
“You didn’t obey me so easily,” Anne said under her breath.
The boy looked at her in surprise. “Of course not, my lady. What you asked me to do was impossible.”
“Ahh,” she intoned. “I forget myself. You were supposed to protect me…and Lady Rose.” She smiled. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.” It wasn’t a lie. “Thank you.”
He bowed, and Kennedy directed him to tell Mr. Bingham to have a carriage brought around. Matthew left, then her mother stood and said, “Come along, Louisa. It’s late.”
“But, Mama.”
“No arguments,” their mother cut in. “Come along.” She looked at Kennedy. “We are very happy your sister is home, Kennedy.”
He nodded, and said in a hoarse voice, “Thank you, my lady.”
She smiled gently and said, “Perhaps you should call me, Christina.” Then she and Louisa left Anne alone with her husband.
Anne didn’t know why, but she was suddenly terrified.
Kennedy stared at her. “What sort of woman are you?”
She looked at him. “I don’t understand.”
“You hardly know me. You don’t know Rose, at all. Yet you put yourself in jeopardy to save her.”
Anne shrugged. “When I saw her, the situation she was in, it was clear she was being held against her will. I couldn’t leave her there.”
“You could’ve come to me. You could have not gone at all and let Matthew tell me his story when I returned home.”
“Matthew said Lady Rose feared that they were going to take her away. In truth, my lord, I couldn’t credit that the story was true. But there were enough truths that I couldn’t ignore the possibility that the tale might be true.” She hesitated, and said, “Why did your father have her locked up?”
His mouth thinned. “Are you sure you want to know the answer? You won’t like it.”
“Of course, I won’t like it. There is nothing that justifies locking someone up, much less one’s own child.” Her blood boiled at the memory of finding the girl half out of her mind with the laudanum, and clearly physically abused.
“That isn’t what I mean,” Kennedy said. “The reason concerns you—our marriage.”
She frowned, then comprehension dawned. “You mean your father used her to force you to marry me? How— I-I don’t understand.”
“My father told me that he had Rose taken away. I believed he had taken her from Scotland. Sent her to France, perhaps. Had I the slightest idea she was still in Edinburgh, in her own home—” His hands worked into fists at his sides.
Anne could well understand his anger and panic. She couldn’t imagine anything happening to Louisa.
“He demanded I marry immediately and produce an heir,” Kennedy said.
Anne nodded. He’d been right. She didn’t want to know. She’d known the earl had instigated the marriage. Yet, somehow, this knowledge tainted their union in a way she couldn’t describe.
She looked at her hands, still clasped in her lap. “I am so sorry.” Tears pressed at the backs of her eyes. “Of course, we cannot remain married.”
“What?” he said sharply.
She snapped her head up.
He crossed to her and stopped beside the divan. “We’ve been married three days. I need time to learn how to be a husband. Surely, you will give me more time.”
She looked at him in confusion. “We married because your father held your sister captive. I-I cannot imagine how you can even stand to look at me.”
“Quite the contrary. I cannot bear the thought of not seeing your face every day for the rest of my life.”
She blinked. “What? I don’t understand. Our marriage—”
He grasped her arm and pulled her to her feet. “Is the best thing that ever happened to me. I am sorry, my dear, but I have no intention of letting you go.”
Before she could reply, he kissed her until she couldn’t think straight.
Epilogue
Kennedy’s father died the following evening. Three days later, Kennedy gave Jacqueline his townhouse and moved his new family into Chesterfield Hall. It would take a month for all their belongings to be brought over. But he cared not. He had grown up in this house. His mother had died in this house. His sister had been imprisoned and then rescued in this house. Lastly, he would never forget that even his father had died in this house. This was where they belonged.
The dowager viscountess returned to Dover Hall, and left Louisa with them. Two months had passed. In another week, they would go to Dover Hall for the summer. By the time they returned home, Anne would be entering her sixth month of pregnancy and they would settle in until the birth of their child.
Light footfa
lls sounded outside his study, then the door burst open and Louisa and Rose rushed in.
Rose waved a note card. “We have been invited to a lawn party this afternoon. Please say we may go.”
“It’s up to Anne,” he said.
“Where is she?” Louisa asked.
Kennedy stood. He would guess, in the conservatory. “I will find her.”
He left the girls and went to the conservatory. This conservatory was twice the size of the one in his townhouse. He entered and ambled to the rear of the room where, as expected, he found his wife lying on the chaise that he had put there in front of the hearth, where only embers burned. A book lay open across her stomach, which had yet to show signs of the life growing inside of her. But she was napping. Something she did a little more often now than she used to—at least, according to her.
He put another log on the fire, then stood and turned to find her staring at him.
“This is my favorite room in the house,” she said.
He lifted a brow. “Your favorite room?”
She shrugged. “Perhaps my second favorite.”
He went to the chaise and sat beside her. “Perhaps you would like to spend a little time in your favorite room with me.”
She released a contented sigh. “Why move when this is such a comfortable chaise?”
He smoothed back a lock that had escaped her chignon. “Our sisters want to attend a lawn party this afternoon.”
She scooted over and patted the empty place beside her. He stretched out and pulled her against his chest.
She snuggled close and his heart constricted. “How is it I came to be so fortunate as to find you?” he asked.
“You’re a very lucky person, I suppose,” she murmured.”
He supposed that was true. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. “I imagine we should let the girls go to the party.”
She nodded against his chest. “We shall never hear the end of it if we don’t.”
Scandalous Lords and Courtship Page 10
