Regency Romance Collection From Christina Courtenay

by Christina Courtenay

  ‘I call it shabby to evict your own flesh and blood from the family home and I’m sure most people would agree with me. The Hall is big enough to house an army; why should I have to go and live in that little cottage?’

  ‘Cottage?’ Robert spluttered. ‘Mother, honestly, you do go too far sometimes. It’s a six-bedroom house, for heaven’s sake, and it’s lovely!’

  ‘Well, however large it is, I don’t want to live there and don’t think you can browbeat me into leaving when there is absolutely no need.’

  ‘I really think you’ll be more comfortable in your own establishment, Caroline—’ Jason began, but Robert cut him off brusquely.

  ‘Mother, you are being unbelievably obtuse. There is every need for you to go. This is Jason’s house and as a newlywed, of course he wants to be alone with his wife, stands to reason. Most people would consider that he’s being incredibly generous to you, not to mention what he’s already done for me. I am vastly indebted to him, while you, on the other hand, are an ingrate. I’m sick and tired of listening to your complaints day in and day out, when you have nothing whatsoever to moan about. Now do stop this ridiculous wrangling and do as he says. If you have not moved into the Dower House by next Friday, I shall come and carry you myself. Understood?’

  Caroline’s face turned almost puce with anger and she struggled for words. ‘Well, really.’ She glared at Jason. ‘Now you’ve managed to turn my own son against me on top of everything else. It’s not to be borne.’

  ‘Mother.’ Robert scowled at her and went over to take a firm grip on her arm, leading her towards the door. ‘That’s enough now. I’m perfectly capable of forming my own opinions, without being influenced by my brother. It’s clear as day to anyone with sense that he is being entirely reasonable and you are not.’

  ‘Reasonable? Him? He doesn’t know the meaning of the word,’ she muttered, but she allowed Robert to tow her to the door. He propelled her bodily through it and closed it behind him, and her voice could be heard echoing down the corridor.

  Jason sighed and drew his hand through his blond hair. ‘I’m sorry you had to witness that. She really is impossible.’

  Ianthe shook her head. ‘Don’t worry. I’m sure Robert can calm her down.’ She stepped towards him, then stared at the carpet before venturing, ‘You know, if you wanted the house to yourself, you could have just moved her out. You didn’t have to marry me in order to have a good excuse to do so.’

  He put his hand under her chin to lift it so she had to look at him again. ‘Is that what you think? That I married you just for that?’

  ‘I … I don’t know, but …’

  ‘I didn’t, Ianthe. Believe me, there were other reasons, although I won’t deny your arrival has brought this matter to a head.’

  She waited for him to say more, but instead he bent to kiss her, enfolding her in his arms. ‘I think I can find other uses for you in due course,’ he murmured with a smile, and Ianthe felt her stomach flutter as she caught his meaning. ‘But right now, I believe you have a dinner to organise? We will discuss this further when I return from Robert’s estate.’

  Ianthe felt as if he had dismissed her, and merely nodded before fleeing the room. She didn’t understand why he was still keeping her at arm’s length, but she would be counting the days until his return when she hoped to change his mind.

  On the Friday morning, just before she was due to leave the house, Caroline startled Ianthe by marching into the morning room without knocking, jangling a bunch of keys. The four spaniels lifted their heads and growled simultaneously, but for once Caroline barely looked at them.

  ‘I suppose you’d better have these,’ she said. ‘Not that you’ll know what half of them are for.’ Ianthe stretched out her hand to take the keys, but Caroline snatched them back. ‘Although as I’m not leaving for a while yet, I could show you if I must.’

  Ianthe wasn’t sure if this was an olive branch of sorts or just a delaying tactic, but decided she had better accept it just in case. ‘That would be kind,’ she said. ‘Straight away?’

  ‘Why not?’

  Caroline virtually frogmarched Ianthe up and down the corridors of the house, fitting keys to locks and explaining why certain cupboards were kept locked, but hardly giving Ianthe a chance to remember it all. Towards the end of the tour, when Ianthe was beginning to tire of this game, Caroline opened a door at the back of the hall and led the way down into the cellar.

  ‘Must we go down here?’ Ianthe asked. It seemed cold and damp and she hadn’t thought to bring her shawl.

  ‘But of course. The wine is kept here. I’ll show you where the best vintages are, under lock and key of course. It will only take a moment.’

  It seemed a long way through winding, dark passages and Ianthe glanced over her shoulder as they walked. They each had a lantern to light the way, but all around them dark shadows encroached. ‘It seems very far to go for wine,’ Ianthe commented.

  ‘Not at all. Besides, this is it. In here.’ Caroline unlocked a door and entered a large room beyond, with bottles and casks stacked in neat rows around the walls. ‘Go on, see for yourself. There are some fabulous vintages.’

  Ianthe stepped inside, hesitating on the threshold. Then she told herself not to be so silly. The sooner she looked, the faster they could leave. She followed Caroline along a row of neatly stacked bottles, noting the dust that indicated their age. ‘They look expensive,’ she murmured, half pulling one out to inspect it. ‘But I really don’t think—’

  Before she had time to finish her sentence, Caroline gave her back a shove which sent her stumbling on to her knees. She heard Caroline’s footsteps as she sprinted for the door, then the bang as it closed and the click of the lock. ‘Caroline!’ she shouted. ‘What on earth are you doing? Stop this at once. Let me out of here!’

  But Caroline merely laughed and soon Ianthe could hear the woman’s steps receding into the distance. An unearthly silence settled on the room, and Ianthe held up her lantern to better inspect her prison.

  ‘Damn her,’ she muttered, feeling justified in using such an unladylike expletive. Caroline really was the outside of enough. How long was she planning on keeping Ianthe down here? Long enough to give her a fright, or did she have a much more sinister plan? A shiver coursed through her at the thought that no one else knew she was here and suddenly her thoughts turned to the fate of Jason’s first wife.

  I never actually enquired as to exactly how she died and where! What if she was murdered after all, here in the cellar? She put her arms around herself and took a deep breath. No, stop being so silly. This has nothing to do with Elizabeth. Caroline may be a thoroughly nasty woman, but she’s not unhinged. And yet … Oh, for goodness sake! ‘Help!’ she shouted. ‘Somebody, please, let me out of here!’ But she knew it was futile. There was no one who could possibly hear her, no one at all.

  ‘Oh, dear God, what am I going to do? Help me please,’ she whispered, and bent her head in prayer.

  Ianthe grew steadily colder throughout the afternoon, or what she assumed to be the afternoon anyway as she had no way of telling the time. She tried stamping her feet, jumping up and down and rubbing herself with her hands, but the damp began to penetrate to her very core. She had to find a way out.

  At first she had a go at the door, battering it with a stout piece of wood she found on the floor, but this soon splintered and she was still as much of a prisoner as before. Using her shoulders proved no more effective, and a thorough search revealed not so much as a crack of daylight or any other way out. Dejected, Ianthe slumped down upon an upturned cask of port.

  ‘What am I to do?’ she whispered, but her only reply was a scurrying noise that came from a corner of the room. She shuddered. ‘Ugh, rats.’

  As she continued to ponder her situation, however, she suddenly became aware of the fact that she was colder on one side than the other. Cautiously, she held out her hand and detected a slight flow of air. She jumped up and felt the air before her with her h
and, not quite sure what she was looking for but certain there was something to be found.

  ‘Eureka!’ A draught was coming from the wall behind a small tower of casks, and when she walked around them, she put her hands on the wall to feel for any cracks, pushing gently. At first nothing happened, but when she moved fractionally to the left and pushed again, she thought she felt the wall move a little. She gave it an almighty shove and to her delight this entire section of the wall suddenly moved, revealing a large gap behind it, where the air flowed strongly as if driven by wind.

  Ianthe had time to see that it was a tunnel, then her lantern chose that moment to splutter and go out, leaving her in almost impenetrable darkness.

  Now she knew there was a possible way out, Ianthe didn’t let the Stygian blackness overwhelm her. She put out her hands and took a step forward, feeling for the walls on either side. Then she began to move cautiously along the tunnel. The floor was rough and uneven and she stumbled a few times, but she continued undaunted, the thought of freedom spurring her on.

  The breeze became stronger as she went, making her shiver in her thin gown, and Ianthe tried to walk faster in order to stay warm. She had the feeling she was walking on a downward slope, which felt strangely disorientating in the dark. But at last she began to see a shimmer of light and was able to hurry along until she saw an opening with fading daylight outside. It would seem it was nearly evening.

  So happy was she to have found a way out of the cellar, that Ianthe forgot to be careful. As she erupted into what looked like a cave by the seashore, she ran full tilt into a strange man.

  ‘Sacré bleu!’ he exclaimed and grabbed her by the arms none too gently. ‘Qui êtes vous?’

  Ianthe stared at him in shock for a moment, before recovering her composure. She replied in French that she was Lady Wyckeham and that he was trespassing on her husband’s land. ‘Let me go, sir,’ she demanded.

  ‘Nom de Dieu, but I don’t think so,’ the man muttered, keeping hold of her as he raked her with his eyes from top to toe, making what she assumed to be appreciative noises. A grin spread over his dark features. ‘Surely, Madame has time to stay for a short while?’

  ‘No, I don’t. Let go of me this instant, or it will be the worse for you.’ Ianthe began to struggle, but his grip was impossible to break and when he hauled her up close to his body, one arm snaked around her and held her even tighter. Ianthe tried kicking his shins, twisting and turning, but this only seemed to encourage him.

  ‘I like a woman who fights a little. C’est magnifique.’ He chuckled.

  In that case, Ianthe decided, the time had come to fight dirty. She had two younger brothers, who were boxing mad, and she’d heard them discussing fighting tactics on numerous occasions. Without further ado, she went limp in the man’s arms so he lost his grip slightly, then her hand shot out and she poked him in the eyes with two fingers. He yelled out a curse and let go of her to clutch his eyes, and Ianthe didn’t wait to see what he would do next. She picked up her skirts and ran.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Her rides with Harriet had taken her to the top of the cliffs once or twice and Ianthe quickly got her bearings once she’d scrambled up the steep path to the top. She thanked her lucky stars the man had been alone. He’d also been rather heavyset and she had no doubt she could outrun him if she had to. With her heart beating like a demented bird inside a cage, she continued on towards the Hall, looking behind her every few seconds to make sure the man wasn’t following. Thankfully there was no sign of him.

  ‘My lady! Where have you been? And your gown …’ The butler, Melmoth, stared at her in dismay when she barged into the main hall some time later, breathing heavily and sinking on to the nearest chair.

  ‘I … coast … Frenchman …’ she began, then realised she wasn’t making sense. She held up a hand to indicate that she needed to get her breath back, and Melmoth waited patiently, looking concerned. Just as she was finally able to speak again, Caroline entered from the back hall where the cellar door was situated. She stopped when she caught sight of Ianthe and a nervous tremor seemed to course through her.

  ‘Ah, there you are,’ she said in a voice that was as breezy as it was false. ‘I know you said you were going into the cellar, but you’d been gone so long I’ve just been to look for you.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ Ianthe scowled at her. ‘You don’t think the fact that you locked me in had anything to do with the matter?’

  ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, my dear.’ Caroline feigned surprise. ‘Why would I do such a thing? I only told you to go and inspect the wine.’

  Ianthe knew Caroline was lying through her teeth, but as the woman was clearly shaken, perhaps she hadn’t intended to leave Ianthe downstairs for so long. She concluded the whole episode had only been intended to teach her a lesson.

  ‘My lady,’ Melmoth interjected. ‘You mentioned a Frenchman?’

  ‘Yes, I found a secret tunnel that leads down to the coast, to a cave.’

  ‘Ah,’ Melmoth said, ‘that must be the old smuggler’s tunnel. I thought it had been closed up.’

  ‘Evidently not, but I think perhaps you ought to see to it. I found a Frenchman in the cave, you see.’

  ‘Surely not!’

  ‘Oh, yes. No doubt about it, but I managed to escape. I have no idea whether he was a smuggler or a spy, but either way, I wouldn’t like to think of him coming into the house in the dead of night.’

  ‘Smugglers?’ Caroline laughed in a hollow sort of way. ‘Whatever next? You do have a fertile imagination, to be sure.’ But the woman had a strange look on her face and Ianthe could have sworn she wasn’t surprised to hear about this discovery. More likely discomfited if she was aware of such goings-on. I shall have to tell Jason. No doubt he’ll get to the bottom of this.

  Melmoth sent Caroline a disapproving glance before turning back to Ianthe. ‘I’ll see to the tunnel straight away, my lady, but first I’ll order you a bath and send for the physician. You must have been frozen down there. It’s very damp.’

  ‘I’m fine, Melmoth, really, there’s no need.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I’m sure his lordship would insist, so if you don’t mind, I shall send for the doctor all the same.’

  ‘Very well, thank you. And remember, not a word to anyone except his lordship.’

  ‘You can count on me, my lady.’

  They both stared at Caroline, who held up her hands. ‘Who would I tell?’ she protested. ‘I’m being banished to the Dower House after all. And I believe that’s the carriage I can hear outside now so I’ll be on my way. Good day to you both.’

  ‘I don’t believe it! Of all the … honestly, Ianthe, if I’d thought her capable of such malice, I never would have left you here alone with her.’

  Jason had returned and was pacing up and down next to Ianthe’s bed, where she was recovering from her exhausting day. She’d had her bath, which helped to thaw out her frozen limbs, and the doctor had been to see her and prescribed bed rest for a day or two.

  ‘But I’m not ill,’ she protested.

  ‘Perhaps not, but you’ve had a shock and trust me, tomorrow you may feel a bit wobbly if you don’t rest,’ the doctor said with a smile. ‘It’s just a precaution.’

  The doctor had been on his way out when Jason arrived home, and Jason came straight up to Ianthe’s room, alarmed.

  ‘It’s all right,’ she said now. ‘I’m fine. I don’t think she meant to leave me down there indefinitely. I just managed to escape before she had time to free me. Besides, the tunnel has been boarded up and Caroline won’t be setting foot in the house for quite a while if I know Melmoth.’ She smiled. ‘He can be very fierce when he wants to be.’

  He grinned back. ‘Don’t I know it, but in this instance I’m glad of it. If I have to set eyes on that woman again this side of Christmas, I’ll probably wring her scrawny neck. I’m going to lower her allowance and I’m very tempted to cut it off altogether.’

  ‘No, please
don’t do that. She’ll only come and pester us and I’d rather not see her again either.’

  ‘You’re right, of course.’ He came to sit on her bed and took her hands in his. ‘I was looking forward to spending some time with just you for a change, but I suppose it will have to wait a day or two now.’

  ‘I’ll be as right as rain by tomorrow,’ she said. ‘Perhaps we can have dinner for two then?’ She felt herself blush at her own boldness, but throughout the long hours in the cellar her thoughts had kept returning to her husband and she’d been distraught to think she might never see him again. Now he was here, and she knew she had to try and make him love her somehow.

  She couldn’t bear it if he didn’t.

  He kissed each of her hands in turn and smiled. ‘That sounds like a good plan. I shall look forward to it.’

  After a good night’s sleep, Ianthe saw no reason why she should stay in bed. But she rose much later than usual and when she sat down to breakfast, Melmoth informed her that Jason had already gone out for a ride.

  ‘Just left a moment ago, my lady. I’m sorry, but I believe he thought you would be resting today, else I’m sure he would have waited for you.’

  ‘Yes, well, I probably ought to take it easy. I’ll just go and write some letters or read a book, I think.’

  She had barely sat down at her desk, however, surrounded as usual by her canine companions, when Melmoth knocked on the door to announce that she had a visitor. ‘I’ve put him in the blue salon, my lady. It’s his lordship’s ramshackle relative, Mr Warwycke.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Mr Gervaise.’

  ‘Surely not?’ Ianthe frowned. How dare he show his face here after what he did to me! Anger surged through her momentarily, then she took a deep breath. ‘Very well, I’ll go and see what he wants, but please stand by in case I need assistance.’

  Gervaise was lounging by the French doors that opened on to the vast expanse of lawn at the back of the house and turned with a sardonic smile when she entered. ‘Well, well, quite the grand lady now, aren’t you,’ he mocked, looking her fashionable morning dress up and down. ‘No more outmoded gowns, eh? Looks like country life suits you. Are you breeding yet?’