The Lords & Ladies Box Set

by Fenella J Miller

  *

  Richard spun and caught Amelia just as she collapsed in a swoon. With his beloved in his arms he grinned at Dewkesbury, his joy plain to see.

  ‘Take Lady Rivenhall to her rooms, Richard, then when she is settled come back; there are matters we must discuss.’

  ‘Yes, sir, I shall be down directly.’

  As he left the room carrying his precious burden, the colonel, flanked by his men, marched briskly to confront the cowering trio, trying to disappear behind the heavy brocade curtains.

  ‘Rivenhall, you have caused enough damage by your damned impertinence. I suggest you remove yourself, and these persons, from this house, before more harm is done.’

  Rivenhall, who had been certain he was right, now perceived that by his appalling error of judgment, he had made himself a pair of implacable enemies. It was fortunate that he had not been in a position to view the expression of relief and joy on Richard’s face when he was acknowledged as Lord Rivenhall or he might have reconsidered his position.

  ‘I must most humbly apologize for my mistake. It is to be hoped that Lord Rivenhall will understand how this unfortunate circumstance arose. He is a fair and honest man.’

  ‘If you are suggesting Lord Rivenhall will not pursue the matter I should not be too sanguine.

  There is the matter of your intemperate treatment of Lady Rivenhall.’

  He blanched. If Lord Dewkesbury told Richard that he had manhandled his precious wife then his miserable existence would be over. He bowed, terrified he would not be away before retribution struck. He didn’t wait to collect his belongings; his valet could follow with them. He fled, trailing his legal crows behind him squawking loudly about payment for their efforts on his behalf.

  Lord Dewkesbury smiled. He had enjoyed routing young Dickon’s enemies. Captain Jones was a hero and deserved the spoils of war. He chuckled to himself. ‘Stand easy, lads. You will not be needed now.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ The ex-soldiers relaxed their aggressive stance. ‘We will take care of your baggage and then find ourselves a lodging. Are we staying long at Rivenhall, my lord?’

  ‘A day or two, no longer. I can hear Lord Rivenhall returning. I shall call you if I need you.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ they replied again and exited smartly, bowing politely to the gentleman they mistakenly remembered as being Captain Jones.

  Richard grinned and shook each by the hand. ‘Good to see you both. Peters will direct you to your rooms. Just ask if you require anything further.’ Still smiling he joined Lord Dewkesbury in the drawing-room.

  ‘Richard, how is your wife?’

  ‘Fully recovered, thank you, sir. She will be with us directly. Millie is not given to fainting fits, I assure you, but the worry of the past few weeks has taken its toll.’

  ‘I am sure it has. Sit down, young man, I wish you to explain to me why I find Captain Richard Jones masquerading as Major Richard Marshal.’

  When the long story was told the colonel shook his head. For an awful instant Richard thought his commanding officer had changed his mind.

  ‘You had no choice, my boy; I would have done the same myself. Rivenhall is in better hands, by far, than it would have been with William Rivenhall. I disliked the man on sight. I can tell a rogue when I see one.’

  ‘But what if he had been a different sort of person, would you have held for me then, my lord?’

  Dewkesbury yawned and stretched his legs, frowning at the dust marring the shine on his Hessians. ‘If Rivenhall had been a decent fellow I doubt all this would have been necessary.’ He looked up then rose smoothly to his feet. ‘Lady Rivenhall, my dear, I am delighted to see you well again.’

  Amelia, ignoring her husband, flew across the room and flung her arms around the colonel. ‘Thank you, my lord, thank you. I knew my prayers would be answered in some fashion, but never dreamt that you would support Richard’s claim like this.’

  Colonel Dewkesbury, unused to close contact with a female person, patted Amelia awkwardly on the back, his face a study of embarrassment. He cleared his throat. ‘Well, well, my dear, yes, umm…what…’

  Richard, laughing openly, rescued his beleaguered friend. He encircled her waist and lifted her, spinning her round to place her firmly on a nearby sofa. Before she could protest at such rough treatment, he leant down and dropped a kiss on her open mouth.

  ‘Excellent,’ Dewkesbury said, having placed himself out of harm’s way on the chair at the far side of the room. ‘You always had quick reactions.’

  Amelia turned her burning cheeks and hid them on Richard’s shoulder. Too late she saw that

  her gratitude had been expressed in a way that had embarrassed their guest and amused her husband.

  ‘Now, I have some sound advice for both of you.’ At his serious tone they both looked up, paying full attention. ‘Once Rivenhall has recovered from his fright he is going to wish to cause you as much grief as he can contrive. There are several hundred men and women in England, and on the continent, that could support his story. You were too well known to go unrecognized. The similarity of your appearance is remarkable but no one who fought alongside you would ever mistake you for Richard Marshal.’

  ‘What do you suggest, my lord? Shall we go as planned on our extended honeymoon?’

  ‘Exactly, my boy. Absent yourselves from England for several months. By then anyone Rivenhall may have contacted will no longer be interested. It will be stale news.’

  ‘We cannot leave without Martha, Richard. She would be devastated.’

  Richard frowned. ‘We have to go immediately, my love, we cannot risk him returning with new witnesses. ‘

  ‘You have no choice, my dear Lady Rivenhall. I am sure your maid will understand the urgency.’

  ‘No, my lord, she will not. She is not privy to our secret.’

  ‘Of course she is not. Well, you will have to think of a convincing reason, because I fear you have no choice.’ When Colonel Dewkesbury spoke with such authority she had to comply. Richard’s safety was paramount; Martha would be left behind.

  Richard squeezed her hand sympathetically. ‘We have more than we ever dreamed, my love, we cannot expect to have it all.’ She sighed, her husband, as usual, was correct. She would have to

  take Annie as her dresser, instead.

  ‘There is one other thing, Richard. Visiting London, or even Bath, in season will be too risky.’

  ‘I have no desire to frequent the overheated ballrooms of the ton. I would rather have my teeth pulled.’

  Amelia nodded. ‘Then I shall visit on my own. I never attended a ball, or mixed with the ton. We have a house in London, which my parents used, before mama’s health failed. I shall open it when we return.’

  Richard glared down at his wife. ‘You will do no such thing, Amelia. I shall not allow you to….’ his voice faltered as the room filled with the chuckles of both Lord Dewkesbury and his wife. Ruefully he acknowledged he had been roundly teased, again.

  His wife smiled at him, her eyes large with love. ‘I am so happy; it is going to be such fun being married to you Richard.’

  They did not hear the door close quietly behind Lord Dewkesbury as he left them alone to celebrate their love.

  THE END

  LORD DENVER’S CHOICE

  Chapter One

  1814

  'Someone's coming. Em, what shall we do? Will we be transported if we're caught here?'

  Emma Meadows smiled reassuringly at her younger sister knowing that if she reacted as dramatically as Eugenie, what would be merely an embarrassing encounter might well turn into an unmitigated disaster. She felt her sister pressing close behind and she straightened her spine, whoever this was, they had no more right to be in Lord Denver's orchards than they.

  The sound of male voices approaching through the overgrown and neglected trees meant there was no time for them to hide; they would have to brazen it out. She shoved her hair more firmly under her dilapidated straw bonnet and whispered to her sister. 'Ke
ep your head down, pretend we're village girls; with any luck they will ignore us.'

  The branches parted and she was face to face with a smiling blonde Adonis who stood more than two yards high and was obviously a gentleman of some wealth judging by his fine apparel. She couldn't see his companion clearly, but he was somewhat shorter and dressed in more sombre garb.

  The blond man spoke, his voice light and teasing. 'Look, Dolly, what do we have here? Two fair maidens up to their knees in stolen bounty.'

  Emma's cheeks flushed. She already had an inkling this could be none other than the errant Lord Denver himself. Since he had inherited the property and the title from his uncle two years ago he had been conspicuous by his absence. The grounds had become neglected and the once grand abbey sadly dilapidated.

  Remembering her decision to play the part of a simple country wench she kept her head down and dipped in a curtsy and the shallow basket she had hooked over her arm almost spilt its contents. She glanced from below her lowered lashes hoping to see more of the oddly named gentleman who accompanied Denver.

  The man who stepped out from behind his companion was dark in every aspect – his clothes, his countenance, his hair and especially his expression. She had never seen a man so inappropriately named.

  Whilst looking down his aristocratic nose, the man spoke, his voice a patronising drawl which sent a surge of anger around her and she was forced to bite her lips to prevent herself answering impertinently.

  'My dear Percy, these are not poachers as we thought but thieves nonetheless.' She braced herself, almost expecting him to raise a foppish eyeglass and peer at her disdainfully. 'You have no right to be here, you are trespassers.'

  Of course they were trespassing, and had been doing so with equanimity these past few years. The previous Lord Denver had had no objection to anyone helping themselves to his fruit, he had no wish to use it himself as he lived the life of a recluse. As long as no one disturbed him he was happy to ignore the intrusions on to his property and even turned a blind eye to the taking of game.

  'Things obviously need to change. Come now, Dolly, let's not be harsh. The fruit is going to waste, we have no wish for the plums, so why not let the matter go?'

  The supercilious gentleman shrugged as if bored with the whole scenario. 'On this occasion I am happy

  to be guided by you, Percy.' He stared hard and Emma was made to feel like a child standing in front of an irate parent. 'You may keep the fruit you have, but do not trespass here again, is that clear?'

  The man turned his back, not bothering to wait for an answer and strolled off the way he had come, leaving only the far more pleasant Lord Denver to face them. Emma was at a loss to know why his sour companion could feel it behoved him to offer his advice on the matter, but the ways of the aristocracy were unfathomable to her.

  'Ignore him; I give you my blessing to help yourself to whatever is here. There will be no workmen employed in this part of the grounds for a while.'

  Emma curtsied again. 'Thank you kindly, my lord.' She decided it would be safer not to say any more, it would be hard to disguise the fact she was gently born if she spoke more than a few words. He nodded and smiled, his face open and friendly, quite unlike his taciturn companion, and then he too vanished through the overhanging branches.

  'Well, imagine that? We're the first to meet the new Lord Denver. Papa will be glad he's finally come to take up the reins of the estate. Not before time, mind you, his tenants are in sore need of new roofs and the…'

  'I beg you, Em, please don't start one of your political rants just now, I couldn't bear it. Quickly, as we've finished what we came to do, let's get home before the horrible one comes back and sneers at us again.'

  'Aggie, look what we've got, we have four baskets of plums for you.' Eugenie burst into the large kitchen of the vicarage and dropped her baskets on the table in front of their cook-housekeeper, and dearest friend, Agatha Smith.

  'Well, my love, you've both been very busy. I reckon there's enough here to make preserves and some wine for the master.' The elderly lady beamed at the younger daughter of Mr Meadows, the vicar at St Margaret's.

  'Now, Miss Emma, what ails you? You look as if you've swallowed a stone.'

  Emma released the vice like grip she had on her baskets and forced her mouth to curve. 'Nothing is the matter, Aggie, those baskets were heavy, that's all.' She stepped back, rubbing her forearms where the handles had dug in so painfully. 'We met the new Lord Denver; Papa will be pleased to know he's finally here.'

  She hurried out of the room, unwilling to discuss the unsettling encounter even with Aggie, who was more like a mother to them than a servant. As she hurried from the back of the house along uncarpeted passageways she met the other indoor servant they employed. Jane acted as both lady's maid and maid of all work. At the vicarage they all helped with the domestic duties, even her father did his turn by fetching in the coal and logs for the fires.

  'Oh, miss, the master has just returned and he's in a right old fluster; he says as you should go and see him right away.'

  'Thank you, Jane, I'll go immediately.'

  Emma had a shrewd idea what had disturbed her father, he must have heard about the arrival of Lord Denver. He had been, like the tenants, living in suspense for the past two years, waiting to know if his position as the vicar would be confirmed, or if the new Lord Denver would wish to replace him with his own incumbent.

  It had been difficult for all three of them since Mama had died five years ago, the annuity she had received from her grandparents had ceased and the meagre amount they were obliged to live on made the fruit from Lord Denver's estate an essential part of their livelihood. They grew all their own vegetables, and had a house cow and fowl, but sometimes finding sufficient to feed them all was all but impossible.

  She paused outside the study which was a large room to the left of the front door and most convenient for parishioners who wished to visit. Remembering at the last moment she was wearing the apron and bonnet she had donned before her excursion, she hastily removed them.

  She glanced into the one mirror they possessed which hung beside the front door in the draughty entrance hall so that anyone entering or leaving the premises could check their appearance was satisfactory. Her hair, after being so rudely crushed under her hat was in total disarray. She quickly smoothed it down, tucking in the errant curls, and refastening the pins in the coil out at the back of her head. Papa had told her she was the image of her paternal grandmother, who also had sparkling green eyes and flaming red hair. She had been told many times that she had also inherited a temper to match her fiery locks.

  She tapped on the door and went in without waiting for an answer. 'Here I am, Papa, and I can guess your news. Denver is finally in residence at the abbey.'

  The man, who turned to face her, smiled, making him look younger than his three score years. 'So, my dear girl, you've heard as well; the whole village is a twitter. It seems an army of workmen is to be employed to repair and renovate the building and then a full staff is to be found for the house and grounds.'

  'That's good news indeed, Papa. It will give welcome employment in the vicinity. Times are hard for all those working on the fields nowadays.'

  'I shall not trouble him with a visit until after the weekend. I am hoping he will attend the service on Sunday and I can introduce myself.' He smiled fondly at his eldest daughter. 'I hope you and Eugenie have something a little more… well, a little tidier to wear at church.'

  Emma laughed. 'You know we have. Indeed, I know this gown is a disgrace, but remember we only have a few decent garments so when we're working we must wear our oldest clothes.'

  She prayed her father would not think to enquire how she had heard the news that the abbey was occupied again; luckily he must have assumed Aggie had informed her and asked no further questions.

  'It will be a relief to have the matter settled, my dear. As you know I have recently written to your grandparents, Sir James and Lady Masterson,
and they have expressed themselves willing to take you and Eugenie under their wing, if that should become necessary.'

  'I've already told you, Papa, whatever happens we must try and stay together as a family. If Mama's parents had wished to be involved in our lives they should have taken an interest from the outset. I will not be taken in as a charity case. Perhaps Eugenie and I could find employment somewhere, we are both well educated, you have seen to that. We could become schoolteachers or take up a position as a governess. Then you could go and live with Aunt May.'

  Her father looked at her, his expression tender. 'If I am living with my sister and you two are working in separate establishments it would not be keeping the family together. My dear, surely it would be better for you to be together and staying with blood relatives, rather than working with strangers?'

  'You're right, I'm talking fustian. If we cannot be here then I must do my best to take care of Eugenie, even if it means going to live with our grandparents who have, as far as we are aware, no wish to accommodate us.'

  'Please do not scowl, my love. It might not come to pass. Lord Denver might allow me to continue

  here and then no-one will have to move.' He paused, waving at her to be seated and stop prowling around the room. 'However, I think, whatever happens, you and your sister must take up their kind offer to introduce you in society. You have little fortune to entice a suitor, but you are both so lovely, I'm sure you will both receive a suitable offer.'

  This was another bone of contention between them. Emma had no desire to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. She wanted to choose her own husband, as had her mother, and marry for love, not profit.

  Chapter Two

  Lord Denver was smiling as he emerged from the orchard, if those were village girls, he was the Queen of Sheba. Neither poor clothes, nor battered bonnets could disguise the fact that both young ladies were gently born. He was looking forward to seeing them as they really were and then dropping them the hint that he recognized them as the village maidens caught stealing his plums.