by Joyce Alec
Suzanne’s eyebrows rose. “Indeed,” she said, quietly, seeing Lord Hoskins stutter and gasp like a fish out of water. “What is it about my hair that interests you so much, Lord Hoskins?”
Matthew’s mind had gone completely blank as the woman he’d been searching for was now staring at him with one raised eyebrow, clearly waiting for her answer. His mouth had gone dry, and he could not think of a single thing to say. Was this how Charles felt on a regular basis? Hearing his friends begin to chuckle at his mortification, he threw them an angry look before turning back to Lady Suzanne.
“It is...very red,” he managed, hearing both Martha and Charles break into loud peals of laughter.
Dropping his gaze and feeling his cheeks grow hot with embarrassment, he found himself staring at the ground, standing mutely before her.
“It is very red,” Suzanne said, helpfully, a smile on her face. “Come now, shall you not offer me your arm and we can stroll around the park together? It appears Lord Deveraux has quite forgotten me.”
Glancing up at her and seeing her to be serious, Matthew jerked in surprise before rushing over to her and offering his arm, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste.
“Careful now,” Charles laughed, turning to walk with Martha once more. “Anyone would think you were besotted with the lady.”
Embarrassed beyond words, Matthew could not even reply. He was walking with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life, and even she was shaking with laughter.
Chapter 8
"I am sorry we did not get to finish our conversation about your brother," Charles said as they stood outside Martha's townhouse. "Perhaps tomorrow?"
She blushed a little, nodding her consent. “I would very much like to see you again, Charles.”
“And I you,” he cooed, bowing over her hand.
To her surprise, he turned her hand over and kissed her palm, his breath tickling her skin and sending a frisson of excitement up her arm.
“Martha,” he breathed, standing as close to her as he dared. “I should very much like to court you. What do you say?”
“I say yes,” she replied instantly, no hesitation on her part. “I like you a great deal, Charles. I hope you know that.”
"I do." He smiled into her eyes, feeling a peace wash over him that he hadn't felt for years. He liked this woman immensely, and it appeared she was enamored with him also. What good fortune!
“Until tomorrow then,” he said finally, taking a step away from her. “Shall we say three o’clock?”
“I will very much look forward to tomorrow,” she said, wishing she was able to touch his cheek or hold his hand, or make some kind of contact with him.
“I will bring my carriage,” he said, bowing once more before leaving her side.
Martha watched him walk away, almost hugging herself with excitement. It looked as though she could be free of Gerald once and for all and live in happiness. Everything she had hoped for, everything she had once dreamed of, seemed to be coming true.
***
Gerald ambled into White’s, a local tavern, feigning nonchalance whilst casting a beady eye around the club. He’d listened to his stepsister’s welcome that afternoon when the gentlemen had come to call. He was now aware that it was Lord Green and Lord Hoskins that had been calling on her. Which one it was that cared for her, Gerald was not quite sure, but it did not matter. Gerald was sure he would recognize him, and he would ensure they were both aware that his stepsister was not someone they wished to be associated with in any way.
Gerald recognized the men he was seeking and headed their way.
***
“Another drink?” asked Matthew.
“I mustn’t,” Charles replied, smiling broadly. “I want to be at my best tomorrow.”
“Of course,” Matthew replied, giving his order to a passing servant. “Taking Lady Martha out again, are we?”
“I am,” Charles said. “What about you? Did you and Lady Suzanne have much to talk about?”
“Even if we did, it was no thanks to you,” Matthew retorted, taking a sip of his port.
He had not quite forgiven his friend for the afternoon’s embarrassment, his pride badly dented. Thankfully, Lady Suzanne seemed quite forgiving, and he had enjoyed chatting with her as they promenaded around Hyde Park. It had been a most enjoyable afternoon.
“Come now,” Charles replied. “If it was not for Lady Martha, then you would never have made her acquaintance. You must have forgiven her—and me—by now.”
“Very well,” Matthew said, a trifle haughtily. “Yes, we did have an exceptional time together. She is a lovely lady with excellent conversation and a sparkling wit.”
“I take it you are to see her again?”
Matthew grinned, all trace of annoyance gone. “Of course. I am taking her out riding the day after tomorrow.”
“Did I hear you mention Lady Martha?”
Startled, Matthew and Charles looked up at an unknown gentleman, who was studying them both with a questioning expression on his face.
“We did,” Matthew replied slowly, “but I cannot see what business that is of yours.”
“Oh, none at all, I assure you,” the gentleman replied, taking a seat and ignoring their unfriendly gazes. “I must simply warn you about her.”
"Yes, yes, we have heard the rumors," Charles said, waving a hand. "If you will excuse us—”
He turned pointedly to Matthew, but the man was not to be dissuaded.
"I'm afraid it is much more severe than a simple rumor," he began, shaking his head. "I am her stepbrother, Lord Crewe."
That got their attention, Gerald thought slyly, seeing both men turn to face him.
“Lord Crewe, you say?” Matthew replied coolly. “Whatever can you mean by such remarks about the lady?”
Matthew glanced at Charles with a warning in his eyes, but Charles’s gaze was fixed on the man.
Gerald sighed loudly, shaking his head once more, before saying, “As you know, Lady Martha resides with me, and I see her as the sister I never had.” He smiled a little, as though recalling fond memories. “When my stepfather passed on, he charged me to care for her, which, of course, I promised to do.”
“Of course,” Charles replied, nodding in assent. “As any gentleman would.”
“Quite,” Gerald said, smoothly. “Unfortunately, the lady has been difficult, and I am afraid that all of the rumors are not false.”
Charles stared at him in shock, all color draining from his face. Matthew, seeing his friend's reaction, cast an anxious eye over him.
“I beg your pardon?” Charles whispered.
Gerald shrugged. “She was in love with a man who did not love her. After compromising her, the man stole her dowry.”
Charles was not so sure he believed Lord Crewe, finding it far too much of a coincidence that the man had been nearby when they had been talking of Lady Martha.
“If a man was taking advantage of your sister, why did you not defend her honor and retrieve her dowry?”
“I could not blame the man entirely!” Gerald exclaimed, leaning forward in earnest. “It was partially her fault, too. She should have stayed pure. And then, how did she get ahold of her dowry? No solicitor would give money to a lady when it was under her guardian’s possession.”
There was silence for a moment. Gerald shook his head in disapproval.
“Women have their ways,” Gerald said, his meaning perfectly clear.
Charles had gone milk white, feeling as though his breath was being sucked from his body with every word Gerald said. Could it be true? Why would the gentleman have reason to lie?
“Thank you,” he whispered, still unable to find his voice.
Gerald struggled to hide his smirk, knowing he had accomplished what he had set out to do. Instead, he took on a sorrowful expression, leaning over to put his hand on the man’s shoulder.
“I do hope I have not distressed you,” Gerald said to Charles. “But, I could no
t help but warn you away from Lady Martha. She is not who she appears to be.”
Keeping the contact for one moment more, Gerald got to his feet and took his leave, struggling not to kick his heels up in glee.
Chapter 9
“I hope you do not believe that man,” Matthew exploded, the moment Lord Crewe had left. “Charles, you cannot simply take his word for it all.”
“What reason would he have to lie? To tell such untruths would mean that Martha could never marry and would always be his financial burden to bear. That does not make sense. So I ask you again, what possible reason would he have to lie to us?” Charles asked, staring blankly at Matthew.
There was a pause as Matthew searched for an answer.
“I don’t know, Charles, but I don’t like it. Don’t you find it in the least bit suspicious that he was here, in White’s, and just happened to overhear our conversation about Lady Martha?”
Charles didn’t answer. He felt wooden, all his limbs stiff and unbending. Lord Crewe’s final words echoed through his mind. She’d appeared to be a genteel young woman who enjoyed his company and made him laugh. She had never tried to seduce him or given him any indication that her thoughts turned in that direction. He had started to imagine he had found his soulmate and began to imagine life with her at his side—only for it all to be dashed away.
“Charles, you mustn’t write her off so quickly,” Matthew’s warning tone filled his ears. “Just go to her and ask her for the truth.”
“I was open and honest with her,” Charles growled, pushing back his chair so hard it toppled to the floor. “And look where it’s got me. Now everyone will be laughing at me even more! ‘Look how easily Lord Green was seduced,’ they will say. I will never be able to lift my head up in society again!”
Anger flooding him, he let out a roar of rage and strode out of the club, leaving an astonished and concerned Matthew in his wake.
***
“I don’t think your suitor is coming today, my dear.” Gerald’s silky tones echoed down the hallway as he slowly came down the staircase. “I have made sure of that.”
The happiness she was feeling evaporated in an instant as Martha turned to see the evil face of her stepbrother grinning at her.
“Gerald, what have you done?”
“What have I done?” he asked, placing a hand over his heart in mock dismay. “I have done nothing, dear sister. What you have done, on the other hand, is wasted your dowry on a man who compromised you.” He grinned at her obvious shock, drawing himself ever closer. “You see, Martha, there is no escape. I shall get what I want.”
“Gerald, why? Over a measly piece of land? You’ve said it many times over; the land is worth nothing.” Tears welled up in her eyes, “What have I ever done to you? My father was nothing but kind to you and left you his entire fortune to care for me. You have no right! Just let me go, and I will be out of your way and you will never have to see me again.”
“So, you will sign over your land to me?”
“It’s all that I have left, Gerald. You cannot have it.”
“Sign it over!” Gerald screamed, mustering up every ounce of anger he had in his body.
“Never!”
Gerald grabbed Marth her by the hair, striking her across the face as she began to struggle.
“It matters not,” he sneered, releasing her. “You have a few days left, Martha, but I assure you that all hope is gone. Even if you don’t sign it over to me, I can still take possession of it when you are twenty-five years old. Nobody wants you now. Nobody will ever want you.”
Leaning against the wall, Martha struggled to breathe, feeling the walls of her cage closing in. He had destroyed everything. Everything in her hoped that Charles did not believe a word her stepbrother said, but she knew from the look of triumph on Gerald’s face that it was not the case. She didn’t expect to see Charles that day. She didn’t expect to see Charles ever again. Tears pouring down her face, she left the townhouse, stumbling towards Hyde Park, hoping that perhaps he would be there, and she could explain everything to him.
***
“Martha? Martha!” Suzanne rushed over to her friend, seeing her in a state of utter anguish. “Whatever’s happened?”
“Gerald!” Martha cried, her tears coming in great floods. “Gerald has taken him away from me.”
“Who?”
“Lord Green!”
“Come, come now,” Suzanne said soothingly. “Come and sit in the carriage and tell me everything. It is just as well I was passing, my dear, for you were almost in a state of collapse.”
Suzanne helped her shaking friend up into her carriage, ignoring her mother’s hiss of disapproval.
“Drive on,” she called, rapping the top of the carriage. “Now, Martha, start at the beginning. What has happened?”
Great, heaving sobs shook Martha’s frame as she struggled for breath. Suzanne sat patiently, rubbing Martha’s back until she was finally composed enough to speak.
“Gerald spoke to Charles,” she murmured, through hiccupping sobs. “He told Charles that I’ve been compromised and wasted my dowry.”
Martha cried harder, her entire world falling to pieces around her.
“How do we know it’s not true?” Suzanne’s mother said, glaring at Martha. “From what I hear…”
“That’s enough, Mama!” Suzanne said, sharply. “Have a little sympathy.”
Her mother immediately fell silent, shocked at Suzanne’s abrupt tone.
“It’s not true, none of it is true,” Martha sobbed, as Suzanne put an arm around her shaking shoulders. “I don’t know what to do, Suzanne, I don’t know what to do.”
Suzanne looked directly at her mother while speaking to Martha, “You can come and stay with us, can’t she, Mama?”
Quailing under the sight of her daughter’s stern gaze, her mother nodded.
“It’s of no use,” Martha said, lifting red-rimmed eyes to her friend’s face. “Gerald is my legal guardian. He can demand my return at any moment.”
Suzanne shrugged her shoulders, and said, “Then we will find a way to hide you. No matter what, we will keep you safe from him.”
With no other option, Martha nodded, trying to smile. Even if it meant hiding and moving about from place to place for the rest of her life, Martha would find a way to escape Gerald.
Suzanne ran a light finger down the side of Martha’s face.
“Did he hit you?” she said quietly.
Not trusting her voice, Martha nodded. Suzanne did not miss the look of shock that flashed onto her mother’s face.
“Let’s go home,” she said, patting Martha’s hand. “We will stop by the house, and you can gather whatever you can manage. We will need to be quick.”
“Thank you,” Martha replied, feeling relief flood her.
***
Later that evening, Suzanne sat her mother and father down and explained everything. Martha had been resting since the very moment they arrived. By the end of her speech, both Suzanne’s father and mother expressed their concern for Martha.
"How awful," her mother breathed. "Why would anyone do such a thing? He is her stepbrother."
“I do not know why he is doing it, Mama,” Suzanne replied. “He is a man used to getting what he wants, and since Martha has repeatedly turned down his request for her last possession, he has become vicious and cruel.”
“I should call him out,” her father said, getting up. “A man like that ought to get his comeuppance.”
“No!” Suzanne exclaimed, leaping to her feet. “Father, you know that is forbidden, and I am sure that Lord Crewe is an excellent shot. Besides,” she said, a little more calmly, “all we need to do is find Martha a suitable husband. When she is married, then Lord Crewe can have no more sway over her.”
“Come now,” her mother said, shaking her head. “No suitable young man would dare touch Lady Martha now, considering the rumors and the fact she has no dowry. Wherever would you find such a man?”
Chapter 10
“Come on,” Matthew said, prodding Charles in the ribs. “Get up! We’ve been summoned.”
“Go away,” Charles groaned, screwing up his eyes at the unwelcome sight of his friend’s happy face. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Matthew threw back the drapes. “Oh, yes you are. Lady Suzanne wants to see us. To see us both.” He waved her note in Charles’s face. “Now, we cannot be rude and ignore her request, can we?”
Charles wanted nothing more than to remain in his bed and drink as much whiskey as he pleased until Lady Martha's face disappeared from his thoughts.
Charles finally grumbled, "I need to tell my butler to stop letting you in."
“Your butler knows that you are miserable,” Matthew said, opening the window to let the clean air into the room. “I know that you are miserable, too. Everyone knows you are miserable. So get out of bed, and let us go and see what Lady Suzanne wants.”
“You just want to see her again,” Charles retorted, pushing himself up to a sitting position.
“There is that,” Matthew replied, not denying it. “She has quite captured me, I can tell you.”
“Hmph,” Charles replied, rubbing a hand over his face. “I suppose if I have to, I shall go. Why does she wish to see us?”
Matthew shrugged, glad he’d chosen not to read Suzanne’s letter aloud.
“I don’t know, and I am an impatient sort, so please do hurry up and get dressed.” Mathew wrinkled his nose, as he said, “Although perhaps wash first. And a shave wouldn’t hurt.” He grinned at Charles’s scowl, letting himself out of the room. “I shall be in the dining room. Your butler has promised me some breakfast.”
Matthew shut the door before the boot that Charles threw in his direction hit the door.
***
