How to Enjoy a Scandal

by Adrienne Basso

“My steward has been badly injured.”

  Aunt Mildred frowned. “Fletcher was traveling with Mr. Ardley. Pray, do not tell me that my husband was also hurt?”

  “We are uncertain,” Jason answered. “Ardley returned to the manor alone and as far as we can tell, Mr. Ellingham is still missing.”

  “Missing?” Aunt Mildred’s lashes fluttered and she began making whimpering noises of distress in the back of her throat. “Oh my, oh my. I just knew something had gone wrong. I had a premonition of disaster all morning, but forced myself to ignore it.”

  The older woman slumped back against the cushion of her chair, wringing her hands. Dorothea knelt beside her aunt, clasping her fingers comfortingly around Aunt Mildred’s fretful ones.

  “Have you discovered anything useful about Ardley’s attack?” Jason whispered to his brother.

  “He has not yet regained consciousness and, given the extent of his injuries, the doctor thought it best to prescribe a strong sedative for the pain. I doubt he will awaken until morning.”

  “That might be too late for Ellingham.” Jason frowned thoughtfully, voicing the theor y he had been mulling over in his mind. “I think Ardley and Ellingham might have been attempting to strike a deal with the moneylenders who have been supporting their gambling habit and somehow things went wrong.”

  “Ardley and Ellingham were in this together?”

  Jason nodded. “The funds and objects taken from your estate were used to cover gambling debts and to try and keep the moneylenders at bay. Gwendolyn discovered the truth but a few days ago. She explained it all to me this afternoon, just before Ardley returned to the manor. His condition suggests the moneylenders were not inclined to negotiate.”

  Jasper let out a low whistle. “If that is true, then they were playing a very dangerous game. Did they not realize what manner of people they were dealing with?

  Trying to negotiate with a moneylender is tantamount to sticking your hand through a lion’s cage.”

  “They are paying the price for it now,” Gwendolyn whispered.

  She had barely finished her sentence when the door burst open. They all looked. A maid stood on the thresh-old, her face contorted in puzzlement. “Cook went outside to gather some herbs for her stew. When she returned, she found this note on the kitchen table.”

  Aunt Mildred turned to stare at the maid. For an instant, she seemed struck speechless. Then she stiffened.

  Shock showed briefly on her face as she reached for the note, but the servant shook her head. “It’s addressed to Miss Gwendolyn.”

  Gwendolyn took the note. She broke the plain red seal and read it. Her jaw fell, then it snapped shut. “They have taken Uncle Fletcher. If we want him released, we must pay them with either coin or jewels. The money is to be left at the Hartfield crossing precisely at six this evening.”

  Jason snatched the paper out of her hand, not caring if he was being rude. He read it, then passed it to his brother.

  “That is preposterous!” Dorothea exclaimed, looking bewildered. “Why would anyone capture Uncle Fletcher with the intent of extorting money from us? We are hardly a wealthy family.”

  “My dearest Fletcher has no enemies,” Aunt Mildred chimed in, rousing herself. “It must be a hoax.”

  “It does not sound like a hoax.” Gwendolyn’s lips twisted wryly. “If we do not pay, he will be returned to us in far worse condition than Ardley.”

  “At least we know now it is the same men,” Jason remarked, then, turning to the maid, added, “Did anyone see who left this message?”

  The ser vant shook her head in distress. “I don’t know, sir.”

  “We should question all the ser vants,” Jasper suggested. Jason agreed, though he feared they would be able to tell them very little.

  It took several minutes for the small staff to be summoned. As suspected, no one had noticed anyone in the immediate area. Jason began to pace with restless energy once they had been dismissed, his mind formulating and then discarding a variety of wild plans. Finally, he ceased walking and asked his brother, “What should we do?”

  Jasper’s eyes narrowed. “Giving these scoundrels more coin will only encourage further extortion, yet after seeing what they did to Ardley we cannot risk inciting their ire.”

  “Perhaps I can bring them a small amount of funds, promising the rest only after Ellingham is safely returned?” Jason suggested.

  “The note was addressed to me!” Gwendolyn insisted forcefully, even though she seemed a bit dazed. “It also says that I am the one to bring the money and if I do not follow the instructions to the letter there will be dire consequences.”

  Jason held up a staying hand. “If you imagine that I will sanction your involvement in dropping off the ransom, then I strongly advise you to think again.”

  Gwendolyn sighed. “Believe me, I am hardly eager to go. But the instructions are most specific. He expects me, a woman, to leave the money. I cannot jeopardize Uncle Fletcher’s safety by doing otherwise.”

  The thought of Gwendolyn in such danger made Jason catch his breath, made him remember that love could also be very painful at times. “I cannot put you at such risk. I will wear a dress and make the delivery myself before I allow you to come within twenty feet of these bastards.”

  Gwendolyn caught his hand and held it tightly. “I have no desire to be a martyr, Jason. But they have left us little choice.”

  “We could make this work,” Jasper insisted. “As long as we put the odds in our favor, not theirs.” Steepling his fingers, Jasper rested his chin on the tips. “I suppose we could have Jason pretend to be you and disguise himself as a woman, but frankly I think the most advantageous position for him is in the field, monitoring the money drop.”

  Jason vehemently shook his head. “Jasper—”

  “You are the best shot I have ever seen, Jason. I understand your concerns, and I share them, but we both know you can be far more effective guarding Gwendolyn’s back.”

  “See, even Lord Fairhurst agrees,” Gwendolyn said.

  Jason swore beneath his breath. The color had returned to Gwendolyn’s cheeks and sparks lit her velvety brown eyes. “I do not know if I possess the courage to put you in such danger,” he whispered honestly.

  Jasper swallowed a snort. “Then I will be the decoy and don a gown and cloak.”

  “No!” Jason and Gwendolyn answered simultaneously.

  “If they discover you are a man, both your life and Uncle Fletcher’s would be in grave danger,” Gwendolyn said.

  “As much as it pains me to admit it, Gwendolyn is right,” Jason agreed reluctantly. “This area was selected for a specific reason. I suspect there will be a limited amount of trees, and a scant few places for concealment, which works both for and against us. We will quickly know how many of the enemy there are, yet it will be difficult for us to surround them with a large number of men. We can only take a few, those who are the best shots, with the steadiest of heads.”

  Gwendolyn looked from Jason to his brother. “Then I will make the drop alone?”

  Jason moved closer, holding Gwendolyn’s stark, questioning gaze. Her courage in the face of her obvious fear humbled him, reinforcing his opinion of her inner strength and character. “Jasper and I and a few other men of our choosing will be there, hidden from view, yet ever alert to any danger. I will keep you safe.”

  He laid a reassuring hand over Gwendolyn’s. With a crooked smile, she said, “I will not be so afraid, knowing you are near.”

  They spent the next thirty minutes immersed in engineering a solid plan, their voices low as to not be overheard. The note demanded the money by six that evening and perversely Jason was glad they did not have to wait for days to force the resolution of this dilemma.

  Best to finish it all quickly.

  Solemn and serious, Jasper departed, but Jason elected to stay a few more hours with the Ellingham women. A tea tray had been brought to the room, but no one bothered to serve anything. Aunt Mildred remained prostrat
ed against the settee, her three nieces surrounding her.

  He noticed some color had returned to her pale cheeks, though she pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead, as if her head ached. When she spied him drawing near, her arm slowly lowered.

  “This is a terrible, dreadful occurrence, Mr. Barrington,” Aunt Mildred muttered in a trembling voice.

  “’Tis awful,” he replied.

  “What is to be done?”

  “You are not to worr y, madame. We have devised a solid plan and tonight we shall rescue your husband,” he answered, with a confidence he did not entirely feel.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jason took a deep breath and forced his mind to concentrate, to examine his surroundings and get his bearings. He could feel his body quivering with agitation, but maintained a cool demeanor, determined that none of his inner turmoil would show. When faced with adversity, men took their cues from their leaders and above all Jason wanted the men he was now leading to feel confident about this mission, to feel sure of its success. He had known it would not be easy to allow Gwendolyn to play such a major role in the attempted rescue, but he had not expected it to be this hard. Feeling heavily the sense of responsibility for her welfare, Jason focused all of his energies on his task. He did not notice that the wind had quieted, that the sun was starting to dip low on the horizon. He did not feel the coolness of the evening, nor smell the promise of rain which hung in the air.

  Instead, he could think only of Gwendolyn. They had less than an hour to stake out positions where they could observe the money drop without being seen and be alert to anyone slinking about in the clusters of trees and bushes that ringed the rendezvous spot.

  When he was ready, Jason motioned to Jasper and the small group of men gathered beside his twin. Upon his signal, the group split apart, scattering in various directions. They had left their horses almost a mile away and were covering the remaining ground on foot. Faces intent, the men moved with stealth and precision, running from one cover to the next, trying to find the best position of surveillance before Gwendolyn arrived.

  After much deliberation, Jason settled himself behind a boulder that sat at the edge of a slight hill. Within minutes, Jasper joined him, the spot barely sufficient to hide the two of them.

  “The other men are scattered around the perimeter,”

  Jasper said. “It will be impossible for these villains to ride out of here without one of us seeing them. If they have brought Gwendolyn’s uncle with them, we should be able to rescue him once she has left the money and departed.”

  Jason gave a tight nod. His concern for Fletcher Ellingham was secondar y. All he could think of was Gwendolyn and the urgent need to keep her safe. With effort, Jason straightened his shoulders, feeling as if the weight of the world was pressing them down.

  The wait seemed interminable. Silence, cold and tense, filled the air. Jason’s legs began to cramp from crouching so long in an awkward position. Shifting, he settled his shoulder against the center of the boulder and continued to scan the open field below. Minute by minute the tension within him escalated, climbing steadily notch by notch.

  A movement at the far end of the horizon caught his attention. Jason watched Gwendolyn ride across the field at a strong pace, her progress steady, the jaunty feather on her bonnet bobbing in the breeze. Senses on knife-edge, he strained to see the area in front of her, fearful she might be riding into a trap.

  “Are any men positioned closer?” he asked his brother.

  “No. The risk of detection was too great.” Jasper briefly touched his shoulder, the gesture reassuring and supportive.

  Jason kept his eyes trained on Gwendolyn. Though he saw nothing of immediate danger, the tension inside him squeezed tighter as an air of worry and concern enveloped him. Gwendolyn seemed so alone, so vulnerable.

  Dear Lord, was this all a mistake? Jason cursed graphi-cally, angry at himself for agreeing to the plan, fearful that Gwendolyn was too easy a prey for these unscrupulous men. A strange hollowness filled his chest, stretched his heart. The prospect of living without Gwendolyn left him desolate. If anything happened to her . . . his breath caught, the thought too horrifying to complete.

  His brother looked at him a moment, his lids lowered, his expression intent. “I understand how precious she is to you. We will do all that is necessar y to ensure she comes to no harm.”

  The faintest hint of thickness touched Jasper’s voice, easing a bit of the pressure inside Jason’s chest. His brother was not a man given to violence, yet Jason knew he could count on him to watch his back. Though Jason modestly conceded his own skill with a pistol, he also knew that no one had a way with a sword like Jasper. Between them they made a formidable pair.

  Jason squinted, his eyes glued to Gwendolyn’s horse, his attention captivated by her ever y move. He had planned and prepared the best he was able in the limited time they had been given, had done all he could to ensure her safety. He and the men would have the element of surprise, but he reasoned the moneylenders might suspect Gwendolyn would have some form of assistance, which could put her in even greater jeopardy.

  The planes of his face hardened. He could only hope that his adversaries were overconfident, that their greed would cause them to be careless. Anything to tip the odds in his favor.

  Either way, it would all be over shortly. One way or another.

  Gwendolyn approached the rendezvous spot cautiously, her breath burning in her lungs. The fear that had been steadily building for the past mile had now elevated to a form of mild panic, but she forced it from her mind. A cool head and a steady hand were required and she willed herself to retain both. One mistake on her part could cost Uncle Fletcher his life. And put her own at grave risk.

  Though she knew the terrain well, it seemed darkly forboding and dangerous. No singing birds to welcome her, no bright, cheery sunlight to lighten her mood. The closer she drew to the spot where she had been instructed to leave the money, the less certain she was of her ability to remain calm.

  What if one or two of the men suddenly appeared and demanded more money? What if she paid them and they still refused to release Uncle Fletcher? What if they threatened her?

  And then she remembered Jason. He was here, somewhere, hiding among the trees or bushes or boulders, waiting, watching. A ribbon of relief coursed through her veins. Jason would protect her, would make certain that no harm befell her.

  But could he do the same for Uncle Fletcher?

  She allowed her horse to pick his way up the small ridge, knowing she was getting close. In the distance Gwendolyn could hear the faint rumbling of thunder, then suddenly a streak of lightning flashed across the sky. She pulled up on the reins, carefully controlling her skittish mare, hoping she would have time to deliver the money and depart well before the summer storm hit.

  She resisted the temptation to scan the horizon, fearful the men who were waiting for the money were also watching her, loath to give them any indication that she had disobeyed the instructions and had not come alone.

  At last she reached her destination. Bringing her mount to a halt, Gwendolyn took a few moments to collect herself, then nudged her horse toward a small cluster of bushes. She dismounted, tethering the reins on a lower branch.

  With careful, deliberate movements, she removed the small leather purse from the saddlebag, taking her time to buckle it closed. Then, ignoring the prickling sensations at the base of her neck, Gwendolyn walked to the large oak tree a few feet away.

  The note had said to leave the money at the base of the tree, out in full view. Crouching down, she set the brown leather purse against the trunk, relieved the dark color did not blend into the bark of the tree. Straightening, she gave a final look to ensure the purse was easily seen.

  Taking a deep breath, she glanced about nervously, wondering if there was a chance she would see her uncle, hoping that he was near, that he could be easily rescued. A minute passed. And then another. Realizing her uncle would not be immediately r
eleased, Gwendolyn did the sensible thing, turned around and marched toward her horse. And safety.

  She did not dare look back, though she longed to once again reassure herself she had followed the instructions precisely as they were given. Her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears she did not hear the rustle of the bushes, did not notice the unnatural movement until the stranger was upon her. He leapt out of his hiding place and snatched her, his hand over her mouth before she had a chance to utter a scream.

  Lips curled in an angr y snarl, he trapped her back against his chest and started to drag her toward the small cluster of dense bushes just beyond where her horse was tethered. Gwendolyn struggled frantically, kicking and wiggling, twisting her body from side to side, but could not break free.

  “I told you to come alone,” he snarled in her ear.

  “I am alone,” she mumbled through the fingers pressed against her mouth, a pang of fear momentarily overriding her ability to struggle.

  “Not bloody likely,” the man insisted. “I’ve counted at least four men hiding around the perimeter of the field.”

  “You must be mistaken.”

  “Damn liar. We’ve captured two of them, but they are in no condition to talk.”

  He jerked her forward and she moaned, a combination of pain and fear. Realizing her struggling only succeeded in making her tired, Gwendolyn suddenly sagged in his hold, pretending to faint, hoping to throw him off balance.

  But he had anticipated her ploy and was ready to counter the move. Bracing his legs, he lifted her higher, the strong arm around her middle tightening. His other hand pressed harder around her mouth, sealing off any air.

  The scream she was trying to lose lodged in her throat.

  Panting, fighting for breath, Gwendolyn felt all the blood drain from her face. He tightened his grip on her until she was light-headed from lack of air. She clawed at his forearm and willed herself not to truly faint, not to easily succumb.

  Roughly he dragged her along the grass. Fearing if he reached the bushes she might never escape, Gwendolyn redoubled her efforts to break away, trying to dig her heels into the soft grass, hoping to slow his for ward movement.