The Runaway Heiress

by Anne O'Brien

  ‘Well, there’s no need to shout at me.’

  ‘I am not shouting. I am being most calm and reasonable in the circumstances. It’s worse than campaigning in the Peninsula. At least I did not have a wife to worry about there. The minute my back is turned you are involved in some harebrained scheme. You deserve that I should wring your neck.’ He took another deep breath and glared at her. ‘And don’t stand there behind that chair as if I were going to thrash you. I cannot bear it.’

  ‘That’s not fair!’

  ‘I don’t feel fair!’

  The door behind Aldeborough opened to admit Matthew, similarly covered with dust and unaware of the rapidly gathering storm.

  ‘I have told the ostlers—’

  ‘Go away, Matthew.’

  ‘Consider me gone.’ He retreated, a searching glance at Aldeborough’s face and a flicker of compassion towards Frances. The Marquis locked the door behind him.

  ‘Now tell me, Frances—what was so urgent that you needed to run off to the Priory at a moment’s notice? And I would be grateful if you told me the truth.’ He flung himself into one of the chairs before the fire, one booted foot resting on the fender. For the first time Frances could see the underlying fatigue and the lines of strain around his mouth. Her heart went out to him. She longed to put her arms around him and stroke away the tension. But this was not the time and she kept her distance, stoking her anger against him for her own protection.

  ‘Very well. You won’t like it, but I could think of nothing else and I won’t change my mind. No matter what you say. Or do. I had to see my uncle. And it seemed to me that I could not wait if I was to ensure that your life was safe.’

  His head snapped up, his eyes suddenly keen, impaling her on a fierce stare. He realised that she looked as tired and strained as he felt. And there was another emotion shading her eyes which he could not guess at. She held his stare with her own level gaze.

  ‘My uncle blamed you for robbing him of my money,’ she continued in a perfectly calm voice. ‘You know that. You wouldn’t discuss the highwaymen with me, but it was not robbery. It was to be cold-blooded murder. If you were dead, my uncle would be able to regain control of me and the inheritance. He would arrange the marriage with Charles which he had always anticipated.

  ‘The plan did not succeed. Perhaps he thought it too dangerous to try murder again. So he tried blackmail instead. Charles kidnapped me to hold me to ransom. And you would have had to pay dearly for my release. Whatever the method, my uncle would get his money.’

  ‘Did Charles tell you that?’

  ‘Yes—well, he did not deny it when I accused him of blackmail. But that didn’t work either. So what’s next? What’s to stop him trying again? He forced you into a duel where you might have been shot. I cannot live my life in constant fear that you will be killed or injured. I could not bear it if you were dead. So I thought if I went to see my uncle and offered him the money he so desires, then you would be safe. My inheritance is not worth your life,’ she finished simply. ‘That is why I left.’

  It was all suddenly very clear. Aldeborough rubbed his hands over his face, the anger ebbing from his body, leaving him cold and empty. She had worked it all out. And been prepared to make a magnificent gesture. It was difficult to accept the glory of it. But the premise was wrong.

  He rose to his feet, strode to the sideboard and poured two glasses of brandy. One of them he passed to Frances, relieved that, although she eyed him warily, she did not flinch. He tossed back the brandy and studied the empty glass for a moment.

  ‘Frances,’ he said, his voice low and controlled, his face expressionless, ‘you humble me. Are you really saying that you would hand over your mother’s inheritance to your uncle? How can I be worth such a sacrifice?’

  ‘I will do it. You cannot stop me.’

  ‘You are a lady of great resolution and I admire you more than you can ever imagine—but I have a confession to make.’

  ‘Oh, Hugh. I know!’ She put out a hand impulsively as if to touch his sleeve, but then drew it back to cover her lips. ‘Indeed, it does not matter.’ Tears began to slip slowly down her cheeks. It came to him that he had never seen her cry before, not once since the night that she had put her hand in his and trusted him with her life.

  ‘You know? But how? Did Aunt May tell you?’

  She shook her head. ‘Matthew. When he came back to Cavendish Square from the duel.’

  ‘But Matthew does not know!’

  She brushed away her tears. ‘He told me that you had gone straight to her from the duel. But she was in Cavendish Square all the time. She does love you, Hugh. Truly. She was in such distress and wanted to know what we could do to stop the duel. It was always meant that she should be your bride and she wants you. If you divorce me, then you can marry her and you can be happy. I do understand.’ Tears fell more quickly and she could not stop them.

  He took a deep breath. ‘Oh, God! This is a mess, Frances.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘No. You don’t. Where the devil do I start to unravel it?’ He looked at her. His heart broke as she valiantly fought to conquer her tears. ‘Come here.’

  ‘No,’ she whispered and stepped back.

  ‘Then I must come to you. I feel a need to kiss you.’

  ‘I had rather you didn’t.’

  ‘I thought you liked me to kiss you.’

  ‘Yes. I do. But it will make things worse, not better.’

  ‘Very well. But I will not promise for ever.’ Ignoring her reluctance, he took her hand and pulled her to the chair that he had just vacated.

  ‘Sit there and listen. It seems I have a lot of explaining to do.’

  ‘You don’t have to—’

  He framed her face with his hands and kissed her forcefully on the mouth to silence her. It had the desired effect. Frances closed her eyes to try to conquer the longing that surged within her. If only he could love her as he did Penelope. If only …

  ‘Now listen—’ his smile lit the fires in her blood that she had tried so hard to quench ‘—you were right to think that Torrington blamed me. And the highwaymen were paid to kill me and release you from the marriage. But things changed. What you did not realise was that you became the target for your uncle’s plans rather than me. Perhaps he thought that you would be an easier objective.’

  ‘Me? But why? How could my death have been of any value?’ She shuddered. ‘I cannot believe that we are discussing this in cold blood, that my uncle could actually have a hand in my death.’

  Aldeborough took the other chair opposite to Frances, leaning forward to study his clasped hands. His face was grave as he contemplated the pain he must cause her, against all his instincts, and the destruction of any lingering belief she might have retained in her family. Finally he looked up and committed himself.

  ‘Hedges did not tell you all the clauses in your mother’s will. I asked him not to. It may have been wrong of me, but my only excuse is that I wished to spare you any further fear or anxiety. I thought I could safeguard you and preserve your peace of mind. You once told me that it was the one good thing that had come out of our marriage. I would not wilfully choose to destroy it.’ He smiled wryly.

  ‘Your inheritance stands, as you are aware. But it is dependent on one eventuality. If you die or fail to have children before the age of twenty-five, then the money will revert to the care of your father—and hence, in this case, to Viscount Torrington, your legal guardian on your father’s death.’

  Frances stared at him, eyebrows raised as her mind quickly assimilated the facts. ‘So it would be to my uncle’s advantage if either of us were dead.’

  ‘Yes. If I am dead, you are free. If you die … well … But I have to be fair, Frances. I think your uncle would not oppose the scheming, but I don’t think he was behind it at any stage.’

  ‘Charles?’

  ‘If he could not have you in marriage, then … I’m sure you see. I’m sorry. Did you like him very much, Fr
ances?’

  ‘No … Yes! It is simply that he is my cousin, you understand. He was the only one who ever showed me any passing kindness at Torrington Hall. I must have been very gullible.’

  ‘Or very lonely.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ She thought for a moment. ‘So the highwaymen? Was that to kill you or me?’

  ‘Oh, I think you were right to begin with. That was to remove me from the scene. But Charles’s attempted kidnap—that was not to be blackmail, Frances. He did not intend to ever release you. I think you would have conveniently disappeared and your body found in one of the seamier streets of London—it would be easy enough to achieve and blame it on a common thief.’

  ‘I cannot believe that he could be guilty of something as terrible as that. Do such things really happen?’

  ‘I am afraid so. And there’s something else I should tell you.’

  ‘So many secrets.’ She sighed.

  ‘The accident at the Priory when Beeswing fell—it wasn’t the bridge. The mare’s wound was caused by a pistol shot. Selby had his suspicions and Kington found the bullet buried in the wooden balustrade. I have no proof that Charles was behind it, but I have no doubts.’

  ‘Charles? Charles tried to kill me?’

  He did not need to answer. She was silent as she weighed his words.

  ‘I see. Why did you not tell me all of this?

  ‘You had spent your life in fear of your family. I know that the scars on your back are a testament to it. As my wife, at least you seemed happier, less haunted. How could I inflict such fear on you again?’

  Frances could find no words. The facts were so clear, the implications so obvious. And he had tried to shield her—out of kindness, out of compassion. She should be grateful, but her heart cried out for more from him than he could give. She stared unseeingly at the brandy still clasped in her hands, determined to stay calm, to respond to him with composure. He deserved that much from her at least.

  ‘Does the threat still exist?’ she asked. ‘Will Charles still scheme and plan until he has achieved his ends?’

  ‘No. I believe not. Charles was distressingly outspoken after the duel,’ Aldeborough explained with wry humour. ‘He condemned himself with his own words, and unwisely, with a little prompting from me, before witnesses. I think it unlikely that we will see Charles in London again—he will have become persona non grata, if I know the grapevine round the clubs. With Masters as his second, nothing will be sacred! If there is any suggestion of harm to either of us in the future, he will be declared guilty out of hand! You can put your mind at rest.’

  ‘Did you wound him? I could almost wish you had.’

  ‘No. I deliberately fired to miss. But he damned well hit me—I didn’t think he had the skill. Now, don’t fuss!’ He put out his hand as Frances sprang to her feet, spilling brandy heedlessly on to the flounces of her gown, a look of horror on her face.

  ‘But Matthew said you were unharmed. I didn’t know. Let me look.’

  ‘There is no need. A flesh wound—nothing to be concerned about. Matthew’s driving over the ruts of the Great North Road caused me far more damage.’ He took hold of her hands and removed the brandy glass, putting it out of harm’s way. He looked down into her eyes, dark with swirling emotions, holding them captive. ‘Before I left Cavendish Square, Aunt May gave me some advice, which for once I agree with. She spoke the truth.’

  He began to slide his hands up her arms, to pull her close, unable to resist her soft lips, the sadness and hurt in her eyes. His anger had completely dissipated. All he wished to do was comfort and soothe, to hold her close. But she pulled back, resisting the clasp of his fingers.

  ‘Please don’t.’

  ‘My God, Frances. I didn’t think that you found me so distasteful!’

  ‘Distasteful?’ She laughed bitterly. ‘I love you. I love you and I envy Penelope from the bottom of my heart.’ She stopped, aghast at what she had said. ‘Forgive me. It was not my intention to burden you with that. If you could forget I ever said it—’

  ‘Penelope!’

  ‘Yes. So, you see, it is easier for me if you don’t touch me just yet. Until I can accept things with more equanimity.’

  ‘Well, it’s not easier for me, so you will have to forgive my selfishness.’ He tightened his grasp and pulled her forcefully into his arms. ‘Just rest there a moment. Don’t fight it. You cannot imagine how long I have waited to hear you say that you love me.’ Frances found she had no choice but to obey. She stood within his embrace, letting him hold her, his cheek resting against her hair. Oh, how she wanted to remain like this forever. She did not have the strength to pull away. Silence fell around them, enfolding them, shutting out the world. But she knew that it was impossible.

  Eventually he released his embrace, but only to take hold of her hands and hold them firmly against his chest.

  ‘Do you feel that, Frances Rosalind? My heart beats for you. It took me a long time, far too long, to realise it.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘I love you. I do not love Penelope. I do not wish to marry her. I refuse to divorce you, I refuse to allow you to escape from me to the Priory, or any other of the mad schemes you might be contemplating. Chance gave you to me and you are mine, body and soul, and I will not let you go. I told you that I would never permit you to escape once before, but that was merely pride and arrogance. Now it is different. I love you. You have turned my life upside down and I would not have it any other way. Now, what do you have to say?’

  She found herself unable to say anything. With a groan he bent his head and captured her mouth with his own. His lips were gentle, persuasive but with a hint of possession and she melted into his embrace, her doubts overcome by those few words. I love you. And by the promises made by the caress of his lips and his hands.

  At some point, still touching, they moved to the cushioned settle by the fire where she remained within the protection of his encircling arms. He found he was reluctant to let her go.

  ‘Why did you not tell me this before?’ Her head rested comfortably on his shoulder, her hands still clasped in his.

  ‘I did.’

  ‘Never. I would hardly forget it.’

  ‘You fell asleep in my arms,’ he said. ‘I knew you would not remember.’

  ‘But why did you need to go straight from the duel to Penelope? If you don’t love her, why did you need to go there? And you must know that she loves you.’

  ‘No. She wants marriage. Status. Wealth. She had always expected to be Marchioness of Aldeborough. With Richard gone, she saw me as the next step to fulfilling her ambition. And I was too preoccupied to make it clear to her that it never was a possibility. I went to see her because of something Charles said when I had … after the duel. He was not alone in his plans, it seems.’

  ‘Never Penelope!’

  ‘Think about it, Frances. Who would see an advantage in your death other than Charles? I would be free to marry again. Hers was not the initiative, although she certainly encouraged Charles. But it was not in her plan to have me killed or shot in a duel. That is why she was so distressed when she came to Cavendish Square to try to prevent us meeting.’

  Her face paled. ‘To be hated so much.’

  ‘No. You simply stood in the way of her ambition. She wanted Richard—she wanted me. I don’t think she hates you any more than she loves me.’

  ‘And I thought you loved her. I know you sometimes want me and you have always shown me kindness but you have never pretended that you loved me. Penelope always seemed so suitable.’

  ‘She is not the wife I would choose. Yes, she is beautiful and sophisticated. Her education is excellent.’ He grinned. ‘But what would I talk to her about? How I will improve the estate? Horse breeding? We would bore each other to death in a day. Can you see her talking to Kington about roof repairs? In fact, I doubt that she would even consent to live at the Priory.

  ‘But that is not the main thing. I promised that I would give you the protection of my name because it was nece
ssary after I had become the means of your escape from Torrington Hall.’ The light from the candles cast shadows on his face, which made him suddenly look unbearably weary. ‘But instead of protection I brought you danger and the threat of death and a degree of unhappiness that caused you to flee from me. I was thoughtless and inconsiderate. I did not intend my marriage to change my life in any way—you would give me an heir and that is all I would expect or ask from you.’ His face was stern and he forgot to drawl. ‘I hope you can forgive me. I also promised that I would allow you the freedom to live your own life. Will that be enough for you? You say that you love me, but are you sure? I seem to have little to recommend me.’ He ran his fingers through his hair, in his habitual gesture when under stress, wincing at his inadvertent use of his right arm, and waited impatiently for her reply.

  He was amazed to see her lips begin to curve into a smile of pure pleasure and delight and raised his eyebrows in query.

  ‘You are far too honourable, my lord. I am used to a more demanding, possessive husband! I think Aunt May would say that the duel has addled your wits as well as putting a bullet through your arm!’

  ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘I know why you offered to marry me, you did not trick me. I know that it was a marriage of utmost convenience for both of us. But you have shown me care and compassion when my mind refused to accept that any man was capable of that.’

  She took a step forward and stood before him, reaching up to kiss him on his stern, unsmiling mouth.

  ‘I love you, Hugh. I need you. I don’t want freedom. I don’t want to go my own way. I am yours and want nothing more than that. Touch me,’ she pleaded. ‘Make me believe that the dangers are over and that we can be together.’

  His hands moved to her shoulders, still holding her away from him so that he could search her face.

  ‘I want you as my wife, Frances, in every way a man can want a woman. Will you let me show you how much I love you? I very much want to make love to you.’