by Rose Pearson
How displeased he had been to discover that Northfell had, one day, suddenly regained something of a conscience and had chosen to take his daughter home. Ridlington recalled the day she had left. He had been so thoroughly filled with anger and fury that he had not even waved the child off. With her departure had come the realization that he would now be responsible for his own income and, given that he had been living a somewhat lavish lifestyle up until now, he was not particularly thrilled at the thought of having to do so. In fact, he had struggled to pay off some outstanding debts with the last of what Northfell had given him and, at that point, had tried his best to think of another way out of the mess he was in.
Ridlington had never been a particularly kind man and so the idea of blackmail had come to him rather easily. Northfell had been so trusting, believing that his cousin had nothing but good intentions for him, so Ridlington had been quite sure that his sudden request for funds in order for him to remain quiet about Elouise would have come as something of a shock.
There had been a blistering response, which had outright denied him any funds and had called him a great many names. Ridlington had waited for three days before writing his response, laying out exactly what would happen should society come to learn of Northfell’s illegitimate daughter. On top of which, Ridlington made quite clear that he would spread as many rumors as possible which, alongside everything else, would splatter Northfell’s name into the mud. There would be no hope of marriage, no hope of future children, of heirs to continue the family line and retain the title. Ridlington had always known that Northfell wanted such a thing and had used this knowledge entirely to his own advantage.
There had been no specific reply, other than a messenger who had handed over a small enclosed packet. Ridlington had opened it with glee, delighted to see the money he had demanded inside, with a short note not to expect any more. Ridlington had chuckled to himself and rubbed his hands, knowing that it would not be the last time.
And so had begun his life of extortion, which, Ridlington had to admit, he quite enjoyed. It had given him such a sense of power, a sense of greatness that Ridlington had always thought he lacked. He had walked with a little more swagger, lifted his chin a little higher. Even Northfell seemed to quell before him, as though recognizing his control over him.
But all that had now been shattered, all because of Lady Amelia.
Muttering darkly, Ridlington threw himself into a chair in the corner of Whites, ordering a brandy and cursing under his breath when it did not come quickly enough. He felt weak and useless, his future suddenly dark and bleak. This was not what he wanted. So, what was he to do in order to return to his previous way of living?
Ridlington mulled over this for some time, his brandy continually being topped up by the footmen – although, of course, he told them to put it onto Northfell’s bill. Northfell had stated that he was unable to continue giving Ridlington the money he demanded, claimed that he would draw near to bankruptcy if he continued to do so, but Ridlington did not believe a word of it. It was simply Northfell’s way of trying to get him to back away quietly.
“And I will not do it!” he said aloud, thumping his hand on the table.
“Will not do what?” asked a slightly drunk gentleman, stopping by his table.
Ridlington rolled his eyes. “Nothing that concerns you, my friend,” he stated, gesturing the man to move away. “Although I thank you for your concern.”
However, the tall, dark-haired gentleman made no attempt to move away. In fact, he remained exactly where he was, leaning heavily on the vacant chair. “Come now,” he slurred, pulling out the chair and attempting to sit down. “What is it they say, again? A problem shared is a….” He broke off, looking incredibly confused.
“Is a problem halved,” Ridlington finished, dryly, taking another sip of his brandy. “Although I do not think you will be able to help me in this case, sir.”
“Lord Storley,” the man interrupted, inclining his head. “I will have you know I am an excellent source of help, no matter what the problem might be.”
Ridlington had to chuckle, despite his frustration. The man was clearly in his cups and yet was still able to take offense at his offer of help being spurned. “It is to do with family and a particular lady,” he said, shaking his head as Lord Storley appeared to be lost in thought at his words. “I am attempting to pull a certain member of my family away from a certain lady.”
“Ah,” Lord Storley replied, tapping the side of his nose with one long finger. “That kind of thing, is it? These ladies can be such leeches when they see something they want!”
“Indeed,” Ridlington replied, thinking that the man was not going to be any kind of help. “She is both amiable and kind, however, so I have no concerns over her character. However, he is the one I am concerned for.” He was not quite sure why he was telling the man such a thing given that he clearly had a little too much brandy, but it felt good to be able to talk about his difficulties.
Lord Storley looked even more confused. “You are telling me that this gentleman, who is your kin in some way, is not of a good sort?”
“Precisely,” Ridlington replied, still irritated by all that had gone on. “And he simply will not listen to me! He has a great many things about him that the lady in question does not know but she, I believe, is quite in love with him already.” He heaved a dramatic sigh, as though deeply troubled by what had gone on. “I simply wish to save her from a most unfortunate marriage, even though she appears quite set on him.”
“Then you must tell her the truth about him,” Lord Storley replied, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Then that particular problem will be dealt with.”
This was not the answer Ridlington had wanted. He had thought about the very same thing a number of times, but each time was hit with the realization that he would have absolutely nothing to bargain with should he do so. Frowning, he looked back at Lord Storley, who was watching him with a surprising amount of intensity for a man so drunk.
“I’m afraid that will not do, Storley,” he answered, with a heaviness he truly felt. “The lady would turn from him, yes, and all of society would know the truth about him, but I too would be dragged into it all. If his name is besmirched then, being kin, my name would go with his.”
“Ah, and you are trying to catch a filly of your own!” Storley declared, with a gleam of understanding in his eye as his booming voice echoed across Whites. “I quite see your predicament, sir!”
Ridlington bit back a retort and gave a sharp nod instead, hoping that the gentleman would now leave him in peace, realizing that he could give Ridlington no sound advice. He simply wanted to be left alone to solve his own problems.
“Why don’t you just marry the girl instead?”
Lord Storley’s warbled words made their way towards Ridlington and caused him to stare at the man in shock. This was precisely the solution he needed.
“After all,” Storley continued, waving his arms around in gesticulation. “If you can capture her affections away from this relative of yours, then you need not worry about her future with him – provided you are not as much as a scoundrel as he!” Storley began to laugh uproariously, although Ridlington did not join in. A smile began to spread across his face as Storley continued to laugh, his mind latching onto the idea at once.
That was what he had to do, the only thing he could do that would allow him to continue to live his life in the way he chose. If he told Lady Amelia the truth about her precious Lord Northfell, then she would be both horrified and appreciative over what he had done. He could then move on to furthering their acquaintance and, in time, increasing their intimacy. Whilst he was not as highly titled as Lord Northfell, she would see him as her savior, as her confidante, and he was quite sure she would be open to his proposal in time. There were ways and means to a lady’s heart and, even if he had to ingratiate himself with her, he would do it so long as it meant he got both her wealth and her body. Northfell would be sick over his de
feat, looking at Amelia with desperate eyes for the rest of his miserable life and Ridlington would remain happy and content in the knowledge that he had achieved the upper hand. There would be nothing Northfell could do, for it was not as though Ridlington was going to tell Lady Amelia any untruths. It meant that he would have to further his acquaintance with her first before revealing the depths to which Lord Northfell had fallen, but he was more than willing to do that.
“Do you know, Storley, I think you have solved my dilemma,” he grinned, slapping the man on the back and ordering another brandy for him – on Northfell’s tab, of course.
“Glad I could help!” Storley replied, accepting the brandy with a gleeful expression. “What did you say your name was again?”
“I didn’t say,” Ridlington stated, straightening his coat before turning on his heel and leaving Whites.
Chapter 11
Amelia hummed to herself quietly as she continued with her embroidery, glad that her mind was currently occupied with the stitches and not anything else. It was nice to spend time with her sisters, although Jessica was out in the gardens somewhere. Glancing up, she smiled as she saw Harmonia’s forehead wrinkle in concentration as she read, whilst Jacintha was catching up with her correspondence in the corner. The only sound was the scratching of Jacintha’s quill on the parchment.
Harmonia sighed heavily and put down her book on the table in front of her, muttering something under her breath.
“I thought you were enjoying it!” Amelia laughed, seeing the frustration on Harmonia’s face. “Is it not a good novel?”
“It is not a novel, Amelia,” Harmonia replied, with a slightly rueful expression on her face. “It is a history book but, for the life of me, I simply cannot understand the intentions behind some of the great men I am reading about.”
Amelia smiled. “That is because you have a sweet and gentle nature, Harmonia. You are someone who cannot think of things such as war and battles, poisonings and death.”
“It seems I cannot,” Harmonia replied, with a sigh. “Yet I still want to learn about such things!”
Chuckling to herself, Amelia returned her attention to her needlework as Harmonia reached to pick up her own embroidery. The two sisters worked in silence for a while, simply enjoying one another’s company as Jacintha continued to write her letters.
A scratch at the door was soon followed by the appearance of one of their footmen, who looked at Amelia with a slightly anxious expression.
“Your father is taken ill, Lady Amelia,” he said, quietly. “He is asking to see you.”
Amelia dropped her needlework at once and hurried from the room, followed swiftly by Harmonia, who shooed Jacintha to remain within until they returned with news of their father.
“Is he in his bedchamber?” Amelia asked the footman, who stepped aside so she might pass.
“No, in the study, my lady,” the footman replied, making Amelia pause for a moment to look at him in confusion. The study? If her father was unwell, why was he in the study?
“Hurry, Amelia!” Harmonia hissed, capturing Amelia’s hand and hurrying along the hallway.
Amelia entered the study just behind Harmonia and saw their father sitting in a chair by the fire, his face a little pale.
“Papa!” she exclaimed, rushing over to him. “The footman said you are unwell. Shall we send for the doctor?”
Her father chuckled softly. “No, my dear, I do not think I shall need the doctor my dear. I’m afraid I was a little overzealous when I spoke to the footman.”
Amelia let out her breath in a whoosh of relief. “You mean you are not particularly unwell, then?”
“Papa!” Harmonia exclaimed, as their father shook his head. “You gave us both quite a fright!”
He held up his hands. “I am feeling quite tired today, that is the truth. It is not to say that I am quite well nor in the best of health, but I am certainly not at death’s door. However, I am not able to accompany you to Uncle Geoffrey’s, I’m afraid.”
“Uncle Geoffrey’s?” Amelia repeated, confused. “What are you talking about, papa? We are not expected at Uncle Geoffrey’s, are we?”
“Of course you are!” he replied, sounding quite surprised. “We were all meant to call for luncheon. Of course, I have already sent him a note to expect the four of you but giving my excuses. I do hope you understand.”
Amelia closed her eyes and rose to her feet, looking down at her father with a mixture of frustration and bemusement. “Papa, you have not mentioned this invitation before.”
Her father glanced up in astonishment. “I am quite sure I did, Amelia. I spoke to Jessica about it only yesterday.”
“To Jessica?” Harmonia laughed, shaking her head. “Papa, you know Jessica can be forgetful at times, especially when her mind is full of balls and soirees and the like.”
“Ah well, no harm done,” their father repeated, patting Harmonia’s hand. “You will be on time if you leave very soon. Do give my regards to your uncle.”
Seeing that she had very little choice but to attend Uncle Geoffrey’s house, Amelia kissed her father’s cheek and left the room, followed by Harmonia.
“We’d best hurry,” Harmonia murmured, quietly. “I’ll go in search of Jessica, shall I?”
“And I’ll get Jacintha,” Amelia agreed, wondering how long it would take her younger sisters to get themselves ready. “We shall meet you at the front door.”
After a hearty luncheon and a great deal of conversation, their luncheon with Uncle Geoffrey came to an end. A little relieved to be returning home, Amelia led the way in their departure and soon they were making their way back towards their own home. It was not too far to walk, and the air was warm and clear. Of course, were their father with them, they would have taken the carriage but Amelia was quite glad for the walk. Being at Uncle Geoffrey’s had left her with a slightly cloying sensation and she was glad to be away from it.
“Amelia,” Harmonia murmured, as they continued along the street. “I believe that is that man, Ridlington, on the other side of the road.”
“Is it?” Amelia’s interest was immediately caught, recalling the mysterious words he had spoken to her previously. “Do you think I should go and talk to him?”
“Heavens, no!” Harmonia exclaimed, disapprovingly. “Amelia, I know you have a lot of questions over what he said to you before about Lord Northfell, but behaving with impropriety is not the answer!”
Heat rose into Amelia’s cheeks at her sister’s reprimand, quite astonished at her own, out of character, behavior. “You are quite right,” she murmured, dragging her eyes away from the gentleman in question. “Forgive me, Harmonia.”
Harmonia grimaced. “Apparently he wishes to greet us almost as much as you wish to greet him!” she replied, as Ridlington crossed the street to come towards them. “Do be careful, my dear Amelia. My instincts say that man has more to him than meets the eye. Whatever his intentions are, I cannot think they are good and honest.”
Amelia could make no reply for, within a moment, Mr. Ridlington had come into their company, bowing at both Amelia and Harmonia.
“Mr. Ridlington,” Amelia said, politely. “How good to see you this afternoon.” She quickly introduced her other two sisters, who greeted him at once before continuing on their way.
“You must excuse us, Mr. Ridlington,” Harmonia added, giving Amelia a gentle tug. “We have just come from our uncle’s home and must return to ensure our father is quite all right as he was not feeling particularly well this morning.”
“I am sorry to hear he is unwell,” Ridlington replied, with a look of concern. “However, I was just heading in this direction so I would be happy to accompany you all home.”
Amelia, who had seen Ridlington walk in quite the opposite direction to them, frowned but said nothing, falling into step with Harmonia.
“And are you enjoying your time in town?” Harmonia asked as they began to walk. “When do you return home?”
“Oh, n
ot for some time,” Ridlington replied, affably. “After all, there is nothing at home that requires my urgent attention….not like Northfell.”
Amelia tensed at once, a prickling sensation running down her spine.
“Of course,” Harmonia said, calmly. “After all, he is a marquess and I can well understand the amount of responsibilities he has. There must be a great deal pressing on his time!”
Ridlington did not look particularly impressed. “Indeed,” he muttered, looking away from them both.
Harmonia shared a glance with Amelia, one that Amelia could not quite make out. She was desperate to know what it was Mr. Ridlington had to tell her, feeling as though, once again, he was only able to say things in a discreet and hidden manner due to Harmonia’s presence. However, she could not exactly ask Harmonia to leave her alone so that she could walk with Ridlington alone but her frustration grew with every step they took towards home.
“I do hope there is nothing wrong with Lord Northfell’s circumstances,” she said, quietly, studying Ridlington’s profile as they walked to see if there was any change in his expression. “You are his cousin, of course, so I quite understand if these things are confidential.”
He looked at her for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing. “Lord Northfell has a great deal of responsibility, as your sister said. It is a shame that some of those responsibilities are of his own doing. Had he been more careful, there would be less of a burden on him currently.”
Amelia held back a sigh of irritation, more confused than ever. “I see,” she replied, not sure at all what the man was getting at. “Well, I am quite sure we will see him very soon.”
“Thank you very much for accompanying us,” Harmonia interrupted, as they neared the stone steps that led up towards the front door. “We must get in to see our father. Good afternoon, Mr. Ridlington.”
