Lady Winterbourne was reluctant to leave and in an effort to reach Captain Blackmore lying bleeding on the pavement, she resisted Mr. Perivale’s attempt to hold her back. The Captain appeared to be unconscious and a group now hovered around him. A capable man was leaning over him, rendering assistance and the stranger appeared to know what he was doing, a circumstance, which offered her some consolation.
Mr. Farnham took her arm and manoeuvred her away from the crowd almost pleading. ‘Please My Lady. Mr. Perivale is right; you cannot be involved in further scandal. Please let me escort you home!’ Lady Winterbourne, realising the wisdom of such advice reluctantly retreated, and together with Hannah, they left Captain Blackmore to the capable ministrations of the stranger.
*****
The next morning, Lady Winterbourne anxiously grabbed the paper, but to her surprise, there was no report of the incident. The Newcastle Journal was surprisingly silent and she wondered if perhaps the matter had been hushed up. Penelope paced the floor. She was anxious to know how Captain Blackmore fared; after all, he was wounded in an attempt to preserve her honour. She dearly wished he had not done it, but she could not turn back the clock.
Mid morning, Mallory the butler appeared in the drawing room. ‘Madam, a Mr. Perivale has arrived to speak with you.’
News at Last! Lady Winterbourne jumped up in nervous agitation. ‘See him in immediately, Mallory. I will speak to him.’
As Mr. Perivale entered the drawing room, Lady Winterbourne could see from the look on his face that the news was not good. Her face dropped. ‘Oh, Mr. Perivale, please do not tell me that Captain Blackmore is dead?’
‘No my Lady, but he is seriously wounded and he is asking for you. If you are able, I can escort you to his lodgings on Westgate Road.’
Lady Winterbourne was well aware that a visit to a single gentleman’s dwelling should not be entertained, but the circumstances were exceptional. If she were discreet and took Hannah along, nobody need ever know. Besides, she needed to see for herself how Captain Blackmore fared, and she doubted she could spend many more hours pacing the floor. She made her decision. ‘Give me a moment, Mr. Perivale. I shall collect my maid and my Pelisse, and I shall accompany you.’
It was midday when Lady Winterbourne, heavily veiled, entered Captain Blackmore’s bedchamber. He lay on the bed looking as grey as parchment and he was breathing laboriously. The doctor was present and so was Mr. Farnham. The Captain opened his eyes as she approached the bed and smiled. ‘Ah, Lady Winterbourne, you have come to visit a dying man. How pleased I am that you have been able to come as I need to speak to you.’
Penelope was distressed as she approached the bed and took his hand. ‘Do not say such things Captain Blackmore. I cannot bear it.’
‘Ah, but you must dear girl. I hear them all whispering, but I know it. Lady Winterbourne, I am not much longer for this world, but do not blame yourself. My honour was brought into question as much as yours and I would do the same thing over again. I am only sorry that you have to live with the aftermath and I will not be there to assist you.’
Lady Winterbourne looked at the doctor in desperation, but he just shook his head despondently. So it was true then, Captain Blackmore was dying. She turned back to the Captain as he tried to move his position and winced with pain. The doctor came forward and partially turned down the bed cover to examine the dressing and Penelope could see the blood soaked bandaging. She closed her eyes in mental agony. Everything had ended so badly, and it would now appear that their tormentor was blood guilty as well as malevolent. She turned to Mr. Perivale. ‘And Viscount Brackenbury, has he been arrested?’ she asked, distraught.
Mr. Perivale looked solemn. ‘Unfortunately, in the mêlée, the Viscount has evaded us, but not for long. No expense has been spared and I have sent to London for the Bow Street Runners. I can assure you, Madam; he will be tracked down and brought to justice.’
Lady Winterbourne found this little comfort as she glanced at the dying man lying in the bed. ‘Oh, I wish there was something I could do,’ she sighed despondently.
Captain Blackmore turned his head. ‘Lady Winterbourne, there is something you can do for me.’ he replied softly. ‘That is, if you can see your way to grant a dying man his last wish.’
‘Oh anything,’ she replied impulsively as she squeezed his hand.
‘Marry me and I will die a happy man.’
The Countess stared at him in shock, since it was not something she expected. The idea was totally preposterous. The Captain looked at her with amusement. ‘Why do you look so shocked my dear lady. It is not as if I have not asked you before and the idea is new to you. You know that I have always admired you from afar. You do not know how desolate I was when you rejected my suit those many months ago.’
Lady Winterbourne opened her mouth and shut it again because she could not think of a single thing to say. Captain Blackmore was not a man she would consider marrying under normal circumstances. With his harsh features and forbidding countenance, she was certainly not attracted to him. It was his reputation, however, that made him a poor prospect for a husband.
Captain Blackmore watched her as she deliberated and finally interrupted her reflections. ‘Consider it Madam, but do not take too long for my days are numbered. I have no family and need someone to whom I can leave my estate. You would make me a very happy man if you consented, and I would leave this earthly realm knowing that my worldly estates were in good hands.’
Lady Winterbourne puckered her brow. The man was a chameleon. Whatever he had been in the past, she could not doubt his integrity now. She certainly had no desire to marry him, and if she did so she would lose her title, but how could she refuse a dying man, a man who had laid down his life for her honour. Captain Blackmore had placed her in an impossible predicament and he was watching her now, his eyes earnest, almost pleading and waiting for her response.
He added persuasively. ‘I can arrange a special licence and the deed can be done within a couple of days. Mr. Perivale here could assist me to obtain one. You cannot consider it too great a sacrifice. After all, I shall be dead within a couple of weeks and all I own will be yours. You can resume with your life and it may just serve to protect you from all the malicious gossip that has been abounding.’
After these last three weeks, Lady Winterbourne was not sure that she wanted to resume her former life. With the odd exception, her society friends had been tested and found wanting. They had believed the malevolent lies and one by one, they had cut her on the street.
If truth were known, her loyal friends were her faithful servants. Mallory her butler, Nathanial her devoted groom and his wife Hannah, her faithful maid. Now Captain Blackmore, the most unexpected of champions had rallied to her aid. How could she refuse him?
Chapter 2
The following Tuesday, Lady Winterbourne stood at the altar of St Andrew’s Church on Newgate Street with her groom lying next to her on a stretcher. The church was just a stone’s throw from Charlotte Square so she made the short journey on foot, dressed in her best Sunday gown of cherry red chintz. The only witnesses present were Mr. Perivale and Mr. Farnham, who had volunteered as stretcher-bearers, and Lady Winterbourne’s three loyal servants, Mallory, Nathanial and Hannah.
The small party returned to Captain Blackmore’s lodgings in Westgate Road and partook of tea and cakes in the Captain’s bedchamber. As far as a wedding was concerned, it was a sombre affair with the certain knowledge of the impending demise of the bridegroom, but they all endeavoured to maintain a cheerful spirit. Captain Blackmore took his wife’s hand and with some effort endeavoured to speak. ‘You have made me a very happy man, Mrs Blackmore and rest assured, I will call for my attorney and put my financial affairs in order.’
Penelope gave a wan smile. She neither wanted nor needed his inheritance, but as he had no other family and it made him happy, it was the least she could do to accept his generosity.
Captain Blackmore remained in very much the same c
ondition over the next three days and his wife visited him for a couple of hours every afternoon. The following Saturday afternoon she walked out of her husband’s lodgings on Westgate Road, unaware that the visit was to be her last.
Mrs Blackmore woke up early on the Sunday morning. She had slept in for the hour was late. Frowning, she muttered to herself. Where was Hannah with her hot chocolate? She rang the bell, but no one answered her summons, so she decided to get up, get dressed and find out what had happened to her errant maid. It was so unlike Hannah to be dilatory and Penelope went to look for her.
Penelope descended the staircase only to notice a strange man crossing the hallway. She stopped in her tracks and addressed him in astonishment. ‘Who are you and what are you doing here?’ she demanded. The man gave her a courteous bow. ‘My name is Jennings. I am your new butler and at your service, Madam.’
Penelope stood on the last stair holding onto the banister rail in total bewilderment, but finally found her voice. ‘I have not employed a new Butler. Where is Mallory? I demand to know!’ Jennings merely nodded. ‘I am not aware, Madam. Perhaps you should ask the master, he is in the dining room eating his breakfast.’
Penelope stood there trying to assimilate this information and assessing what it meant. She kept her composure in front of the servant and stepped forward. ‘Why thank you Jennings,’ she replied calmly, her heart beating like a hammer in her chest. ‘I shall certainly do so.’ Walking across the hall, she entered the dining room to see Captain Blackmore sitting at the dining table tucking into a large plate of ham and eggs and downing a pint of ale. She had expected to see him there because Jennings had told her as much, but she still could not quite believe it. Captain Blackmore looked as fit as any healthy man in his prime. He was far from the dying man she had left in bed on the previous afternoon.
Captain Blackmore looked up. ‘Ah, good morning, Mrs Blackmore. Would you care to join me?’ He indicated to a seat, but Penelope just remained standing with her back to the door, leaning against it for support.
‘What is the meaning of this? What have you done with my butler Mallory and the rest of my servants? How dare you just walk into my house and take over?’
Captain Blackmore merely smiled. ‘You forget, my dear, we are married. They were my servants and this is my house. I am the master here now and I have dismissed them.’
Penelope gaped at him incredulously. ‘When I left you yesterday, you were at death’s door. What is going on here?’ she demanded.
Captain Blackmore just smiled and gave a mocking reply. ‘Why Mrs Blackmore, and here am I, thinking that you would be delighted at my quick recovery.’
‘Well, I am. Of course I am,’ she stammered, ‘but this is not possible. You cannot possibly have recovered so miraculously.’
Captain Blackmore wiped his mouth on his napkin. ‘Oh, it was not so miraculous my dear, since I was not ill in the first place. You must have guessed by now. It was all part of a plot to secure you as my wife and it worked admirably. Do you not think so?’
Penelope’s face drained entirely of its colour and she felt nauseous as she assimilated this information. ‘But you were ill. I saw you. Your pallor was deathly and I saw the blood. There was so much blood, oh, this cannot be happening.’
‘Well, Mrs Blackmore, it is amazing what you can achieve with a little lead paint applied discreetly and a bladder of pig’s blood. Why do you think that Mr. Perivale did not let you too near to me that day in the Cloth Market and Mr. Farnham insisted on taking you home? You would most certainly have recognised it as the deception it was if you had been allowed anywhere near me.’
‘But what about the witnesses? You could not have fooled everybody,’ she gasped with consternation. ‘Surely, someone would have noticed and exposed you. Oh, this cannot be possible!’
‘Friends, every last one of them, right down to the fictional Viscount Brackenbury and the doctor. You see, I have studied your routine. I knew that at some point you would be passing through the Cloth Market that day and I merely needed to wait until you walked by. We all just waited at the George Inn and when you entered the Cloth Market, we put the plan into action. It was all arranged down to the finest detail. I left nothing to chance.’
Penelope felt weak at the knees, walked forward and sat down. ‘It was you!’ she replied angrily. ‘It was you who arranged all those dreadful flyers and had them distributed. How could you be so despicable? You have completely destroyed my reputation.’
‘Regrettable, but necessary for the greater good, my dear,’ he returned unsympathetically. ‘I am sure you will survive the scandal.’
‘But why?’ she demanded. ‘Why would you do such a dreadful thing? I do not understand it. You can hardly want an unwilling wife. How can you expect me to have a regard for you now after the dreadful thing you have done? What did you expect to gain? It is not as if I am a wealthy woman?’
‘Oh come now Mrs Blackmore,’ he retorted. ‘It is a well-documented fact that the Late Earl of Rosslyn left you a large fortune and I, my dear, am in need of that fortune. My motivations were simple enough. You have money and I want it.’
Penelope by now was visibly angry. ‘I am sorry to inform you, but I think you will be sadly disappointed. I am not as wealthy as you think me. I think you should have done your homework a little more thoroughly before you embarked on such a scheme.’
Captain Blackmore got up from the table and approached her threateningly. ‘Do not try to pull the wool over my eyes, dear wife. I have done my research and I know exactly how much Lord Winterbourne left you. He bequeathed you the very respectable sum of £50.000. I hardly think that you can call that a mere pittance.’
Penelope smiled for the first time during the whole interview. ‘Yes, Captain, this is very true, but you appear to have missed a very important detail.’
He stopped short and frowned. It was impossible. He had done his research thoroughly and Lady Winterbourne was a very rich woman. ‘And what detail might that be, my dear?’ he asked sourly.
‘My late husband has put £40.000 in trust for me and it will remain there until I am thirty years of age. I cannot access it; neither can my husband access it if I remarry. The details of the trust are strict. You see, he wished to see me comfortable for the rest of my life. I was left with £10.000 to live on now and out of that, I moved to Newcastle and bought this house in Charlotte Square. As you must be aware, this house is a relatively new property designed by the eminent architect Robert Newton himself and it was not cheap. I have spent a small fortune on furniture and decor, and what is left will see me comfortably until I am thirty. No Captain, I think you will find that my immediate inheritance is very modest indeed. I live comfortably and want for nothing, but I hardly enjoy the excesses of the idle rich.’
Captain Blackmore looked thunderous. ‘You lie Madam. I do not believe you! The attorney is arriving this afternoon to transfer your estate over to me. He will advise me of the true state of affairs.’
‘You will find out soon enough,’ she replied contemptuously. ‘You have wasted your time and your energy Captain. I shall be seeking a divorce!’
He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her to him. ‘No divorce, Madam Wife! A woman divorcing her husband, whoever heard of such a thing?’
Penelope rallied herself and tried to keep her composure. ‘Do not fool yourself, it has been known,’ she snapped, trying to pull away from his grip. ‘I shall strive in every possible way to rid myself of you. You evil, malignant worm!’
He held her wrist tightly and gave her an evil grin. ‘I think you will find that you are on a hiding to nothing with that idea and if what you say is true, I will find a way to break the trust. I am not undone yet. Come along with me,’ he growled, gripping her tightly and bruising her wrist.
Captain Blackmore dragged her to the door and then across the hall under the watchful eyes of Jennings. Mounting the stairs, he dragged a struggling Penelope behind him and on reaching the upper landing, he open
ed the door to her bedchamber and pushed her in. ‘You will stay there until I tell you that you can leave,’ he snarled maliciously.
He left, closing the door behind him and she heard the key turn in the lock. Penelope stood in the middle of her bedchamber rubbing her throbbing wrist, the disastrous consequences of this new marriage finally dawning on her in all its horror. She was appalled at its implications and her addled brain fought fervently for a way to extricate herself from this terrible mess. The situation was disastrous. What had she done!
Chapter 3
Penelope paced the floor of her bedchamber. She had been incarcerated in her room for three days now and she was cold and hungry. All she was given to eat was a slice of bread with honey, along with a jug of water once a day. What was her husband trying to do? Starve her to death to get his hands on the trust? He would be sadly disappointed. If she died, and in the absence of children, it would revert to the current Earl of Rosslyn.
She had not seen the Captain since that dreadful morning in the dining room, but she had heard him raging downstairs after his meeting with the solicitor later that same day. No doubt, that worthy gentleman had enlightened him as to the extent and conditions pertaining to her estate. It was certainly respectable, but quite obviously, much less than the Captain was expecting. With less than ten thousand pounds at his immediate disposal, he was livid. Penelope was concerned for her safety and needed to escape. So far, she had been fortunate as he had not approached her, but she could not expect that state of affairs to last forever. She gazed out of the window, but there was no escape that way. Her bedchamber was on the third floor and there was no tree or trellis down which she could climb. She had tried to attract the attention of a neighbour passing by, but as she lived in a quiet square, they were very few, and those who had passed had failed to notice her. Penelope did not dare to throw down a note in case her husband found it, for not knowing him well, she was not certain how violently he would react.
Lady Winterbourne's Entanglement: A Romantic Regency Adventure Page 2
