Sons of the Marquess Collection

by Mary Kingswood

“No.”

  “No?”

  “We will get married straight away. I imagine you will be able to get a special licence—”

  “And in the time it would take me to get to London and back with it, we could have the banns read.”

  “A common licence?” she said wistfully. “One could be had from York, I daresay.”

  “I have a much better plan,” he said. “We will do as Marfords have done for generations, which is to have the banns read in the church at Mishcombe, and then walk in procession to our wedding so that the villagers may shower you with rose petals and have their fête afterwards. We always provide a big feast on the village green for family weddings, and there hasn’t been one here for years.”

  She tipped her head on one side, thinking. “If we see Mr Hay tomorrow, the first banns could be read on Sunday, and then we may be married two weeks on Monday.”

  “Why the rush?” he said gently. “Most ladies like to savour the time of courtship. What about wedding clothes and the like?”

  “Because I am terrified you will start thinking again, and find all sorts of reasons to delay. Marry me at once, Humphrey, or I shall go mad.” He hesitated, and she said. “You know, I really feel you ought to marry me as soon as may be, for the sake of my reputation. After all, here I am in your bedroom, in my nightgown.”

  “If you creep back to your room—”

  “But I have no intention of creeping back to my room, Humphrey dear. Not until the morning, anyway.”

  “Oh.”

  He could have argued with her. He could even have carried her back to her own room, although he suspected she was quite capable of screaming all the way. Instead he laughed.

  “You are an outrageous, wanton woman, Miss Blythe, and I utterly adore you.”

  He blew out the candles.

  ~~~~~

  Hortensia wore one of her new morning gowns, purchased in London but never worn while she was pretending to be a companion. Her maid, a dour Yorkshire woman whose highest praise was ‘You’ll do, ma’am’, actually smiled as she dressed her. Even so, Hortensia insisted her hair be left in a simple coil on her crown, with just the two soft curls either side of her face. But she left off the spinster’s cap. She would be wearing caps again soon enough, but they would be delicate lace confections, not the monstrous plain cambric affair she had assumed as part of her disguise.

  “There, ma’am,” said the maid. “You’ll do very well.”

  Seeing herself in the mirror, Hortensia doubted it. The gown was a glorious statement of fashion, expensive, elegant and very flattering to her figure, but there was no hiding her plain face or excessive height. She would never be a beauty, and it was a miracle that not one but two men had fallen in love with her in her life. She could hardly believe her luck. One had slipped from her grasp, but she was determined not to lose Humphrey.

  Breakfast was an awkward affair, Connie crying in delight at the news of the betrothal, and the men smiling, slapping Humphrey heartily on the shoulder or pumping his hand in congratulations.

  Only Carrbridge looked balefully at him. “You could not wait, then,” he said sorrowfully.

  “I could have done, but she could not,” he said. “And you may blame your wife for it, sending me to find Miss Blythe last night. And now we are to be married in two weeks, and it is all Connie’s fault.”

  “Two weeks!” Connie cried, aghast. “Why such haste? Three months is the usual time, if you are to have any hope of the carriage being ready, and all your wedding clothes. And Humphrey, you will want your brothers here for the occasion.”

  “I believe we must keep to our plan,” Humphrey said, paying studious attention to his plate.

  “But—” Connie began.

  “My dear,” Carrbridge said, resting one hand on hers, “it is best to leave such matters to Humphrey and Miss Blythe.”

  “But—” She looked from Hortensia, trying not to blush but failing, and Humphrey, still staring at his plate, and said, “Oh!” in surprise. “Oh, I see. Yes, of course.”

  After breakfast, Hortensia and Humphrey walked through the village to the parsonage to arrange for the banns, with Lady Hardy and Mr Merton as chaperons. There they were congratulated again, offered elderberry wine and plum cake, and thoroughly fussed over by Mr Hay and his two spinster sisters. Hortensia could not help comparing Mr Hay, so tidily and sensibly attired, with Humphrey’s ramshackle appearance in his disguise, and it was as much as she could do not to laugh. She dared not catch Humphrey’s eye in case that set her off.

  When they were sufficiently stuffed full of plum cake to satisfy the Miss Hays and were allowed to leave, Humphrey raised the matter of Mr Sharp, the agent, with Mr Merton.

  “Mrs Andrews is in fear of his return, and I should like to be able to reassure the lady, but I have not seen hide nor hair of the man for some time.”

  “No one has seen him,” Mr Merton said. “According to Mrs Sharp, he has been back twice, but only to change his clothes and take a fresh horse. Then he is away again. He has written twice to inform his lordship of his whereabouts, as he was asked to do, and is apparently inspecting some far-flung properties in Northumberland and Cumberland, but naturally he is not specific. He never says more than he is obliged to.”

  “What is he up to, Merton? It is nothing good, I am sure.”

  “He has had the sole management of all the marquess’s estates and holdings for some years now,” Mr Merton said thoughtfully. “A certain carelessness might be understandable, and certainly his record-keeping leaves a great deal to be desired. He has behaved reprehensibly towards Mrs Andrews, too. And the money… there is something amiss with the money. Whenever his lordship has asked, Mr Sharp has produced the necessary funds, but where those funds are kept is a mystery. I have not yet found him out in any wrongdoings, but I have my suspicions. If Mr Sharp does not soon present himself at Drummoor, I believe his lordship will have no option but to begin investigating his financial affairs.”

  “At least Miss Blythe will be able to offer Mrs Andrews some support,” Lady Hardy said. “The poor lady must be very distressed.”

  “I am not sure how much support a young lady may provide against a man like Mr Sharp,” Mr Merton said.

  Hortensia smiled. “Oh, I shall keep my pistols loaded.”

  Humphrey laughed. “You have pistols? Of course you do!”

  “Even so,” Mr Merton said, “I shall ask his lordship if another footman may be sent there temporarily, and perhaps one of the burlier grooms. Several solid young men may be as effective a deterrent as loaded pistols, in their way.”

  “You think Miss Blythe would not dare to shoot a man,” Humphrey said. “You are quite mistaken. My betrothed is perfectly capable of shooting anyone.”

  “I do not doubt it,” Mr Merton said. “I should prefer it if Miss Blythe were not required to do so.”

  “Yes, indeed!” said Lady Hardy. “Miss Blythe and Mrs Andrews must be protected. It is as well you are to marry so soon, Lord Humphrey, for then you will be on hand to protect the ladies.”

  Hortensia smiled and said nothing. Let them protect her if they wished, she did not care, for she had Humphrey. Soon she would be Lady Humphrey Marford and the world would be a wonderful place.

  23: Tigers, Elephants And Snakes

  Humphrey was to escort Hortensia to Silsby Vale House that afternoon. Her boxes had already been packed up and sent around by road, together with the maid, a footman and a groom, who were to stay until she had her own staff in place, but Hortensia wanted to ride and Humphrey was not minded to deny her any pleasure.

  She rode Ganymede and he rode Titan, and after the initial gallop, they walked the horses companionably side by side.

  “I shall miss Ganymede,” she said with a sigh. “May I borrow him sometimes, after we are married?”

  “You may not,” he said. She looked so shocked that he smiled. “But I may ask that favour of you sometimes. He is yours, my betrothal present to you.”

&
nbsp; “Oh, Humphrey!” she said, her eyes sparkling with tears. “You are so good to me. But what may I give you?”

  “You have already given me everything I desired, my love, in bestowing your hand upon me. What more could I wish for?”

  “One hundred thousand pounds, perhaps, to start your gaming house?”

  “Not that, no. I shall not take your inheritance from you. Once your lawyers arrive to discuss the marriage settlements, I shall suggest that they wrap it all up in trust for our children.”

  She reined Ganymede to a halt, and waved Tom to go on ahead. “No, that is not how it is supposed to be. What is mine will be yours when we are wed, for you to do with as you please.”

  “Your lawyers will point out that I am a known gambler, and likely to lose your fortune at faro or dice. They will recommend that you give me a modest allowance, and keep the rest out of my reach. And they would be right to so advise you.”

  “And I would be right to tell them that you are no reckless gamester. Besides, I want you to have your gaming house. That is how we met, after all, because you wanted a rich wife to fund it. Now you will have one, so please, let me give you a hundred thousand, at least. The rest may be tied up however you wish, but let me do this for you, Humphrey, please.”

  “I have been discussing my plans with Mr Stoner — do you remember him, from the abbey? We must have him to stay once we are settled, by the way, for he is such an interesting man and you can talk about India with him. Anyway, he has been advising me on the gaming house, and he and a few of his business associates are prepared to invest in the venture. I do not think I can raise a hundred thousand, but enough for something a little more modest, in York, perhaps, so that I should not need to go to London.”

  “Do you… not want to go to London?”

  “Not if it takes me away from you, no.”

  “Oh.” Again he saw tears in her eyes. “So you are not marrying me for my money after all.”

  “Of course not! I am glad that you have it, for otherwise I could never marry you, since I could hardly expect you to live in poverty for my sake, but for myself, I do not want it. All I want is you, Hortensia.”

  “Oh,” she said again.

  “I thought you understood,” he said gently. “I love you, my darling. I adore everything about you, my brave, beautiful Hortensia.”

  “Beautiful?” she whispered. “No one has ever called me beautiful before.”

  “But you are! Yours is not a milk-and-honey prettiness, like Miss Quayle’s, but the radiance that comes from within, from strength and a quick wit and the sureness of good sense and a delight in life. When you allow that radiance to spill forth, it lights your whole being and you are utterly magnificent.”

  They walked on in silence as she contemplated this new idea. Humphrey wondered what she saw when she looked in her mirror — the ordinary, rather severe features, no doubt, and the overlarge eyes and mouth. She never saw herself engrossed in a card game, or exhilarated from a fast ride, as he did. She never saw her own beauty. But she would, for he would make her so happy that she would walk about all day with such a smile on her face as could not be disguised, even when she looked in her mirror.

  Lost in their own thoughts, they reached Silsby Vale House and turned in through the gates.

  She stopped, looking up at the mellow walls of the house. “I shall give you this place, then,” she said. “This will be my wedding gift to you, and with all the tenant farmers who pay rent, you will have a useful income of your own. A man should be master in his own house, do you not— Wait, why is the front door open?”

  Humphrey was wondering that himself. Yet no one emerged. Then shouts were heard from the stables. Kicking their horses into motion, they raced round the corner, gravel spraying, Tom just behind them.

  Sharp. Even in a melee of grooms and gardeners and a couple of maids, that tricorn hat could not be mistaken. He had hold of Mrs Andrews by one arm and his whip was raised.

  “Stop that at once!” Humphrey yelled, kicking aside the stirrups and leaping from Titan’s back.

  Sharp stopped, lowered the whip and shifted his angry scowl to a more conciliatory expression, although he did not release Mrs Andrews’ arm. “Why, my lord, good day to you, but this does not concern you. A man may chastise his mistress if she misbehaves, the law will support me on that.”

  “But—”

  “Release her or I shoot,” came an implacable voice from above.

  Humphrey turned to see Hortensia, still mounted on Ganymede, pointing a pistol at Sharp.

  Sharp laughed. “Lady, put that thing away or you—”

  She fired, the shot echoing off the walls, and Sharp’s hat spun away. Ganymede whickered and half reared, but even with one hand, she held him in check and quietened him. Then, tossing the used pistol to Humphrey, she pulled another from her saddle bag and cocked it.

  “The next one is for your heart unless you leave immediately.”

  Sharp looked about him, then, defeated, he started to walk past them. She turned the horse to watch him walk down the drive, step by slow step. He reached Tom, who was holding Titan and his own horse, and suddenly lunged for Titan, grabbing the reins from Tom’s hands. With an agility surprising in a man of his age, he leapt into the saddle, and kicked the horse into motion.

  “Shall I kill him?” Hortensia said conversationally.

  “Best not to,” Humphrey said.

  She fired. Sharp yelled, Titan reared and Sharp fell neatly from the saddle, with blood pouring from one shoulder.

  Humphrey began to laugh. “Lucky you had all these men here to protect you, Miss Blythe. Whatever would you have done without us?”

  ~~~~~

  Despite Connie’s fears, most of Humphrey’s brothers were at Drummoor for the wedding, Reggie and Miss Chamberlain rather surprised to be beaten to the altar, Gus breaking his journey on his way to Northumberland, and Monty newly ordained. Only Gil was absent, busy with his Hussar regiment preparing to take ship for the Peninsula.

  Gus was engaged on a mission for Tattersall’s, to value and bring to auction the stables of the recently deceased son of a duke. He was accompanied by another man, a very small man, swaddled in a greatcoat adorned with a vast number of capes, and the garish blue and yellow striped waistcoat of the Four-Horse Club.

  “This is another Tattersall’s man, Captain Michael Edgerton, formerly of the East India Company Army,” said Gus to the group assembled in the entrance hall to receive them.

  “The East India Company Army?” Connie said. “Do you know Miss Blythe, Humphrey’s betrothed? Her father was in the East India Company.”

  “It is a very large company,” Hortensia murmured. “Delighted to meet you, Captain.”

  “Miss Blythe? Miss Blythe?” he said, raising a quizzing glass to one eye. “Not… oh, surely not? Do I have the honour of addressing Tiger Blythe?”

  “Good heavens, I have not been called that for years!” Hortensia said, laughing.

  “My dear Miss Blythe, permit me to shake your hand!” Edgerton said, suiting the action to the words. “It is too great a privilege to meet you, after hearing so much about you.”

  “May I show you to your room, Captain Edgerton?” Connie said, brightly.

  “No, no, no, do not whisk him away like that,” Gus said. “We need to know all about Tiger Blythe.”

  “It is quite all right, Lady Carrbridge,” Hortensia said. “It is nothing terribly disreputable.”

  “Disreputable! Disreputable! I should think not,” said the captain. “Miss Blythe once shot a tiger at point-blank range that had got into the kitchen.”

  “Oh!” said Connie faintly.

  “It was going to eat the cook’s youngest boy, and I could not allow that, could I?” Hortensia said.

  “What was your total tally?” the captain said.

  “Seven,” she answered. “It should have been eight, but General Westfield claimed the final one, and one does not quite like to argue with a general
. Not when he has an entire army at his command. But it should have been mine, all the same.”

  “Seven tigers,” the captain breathed. “And the elephant, of course. A bull elephant was bearing down on her, Lady Carrbridge, but she stood her ground and took the thing down with a single shot. Magnificent. Quite magnificent.”

  “Goodness,” Connie said, hand to mouth.

  “It was not quite so dramatic as it sounds,” Hortensia said, laughing. “The tale has grown in the telling, as such tales always do. Another year or two, and it will be a whole herd of elephants, I daresay.”

  “How does one shoot an elephant?” Humphrey said.

  “With a steady hand, and right at the mid-point between the ears. So I was taught, and since I am here to tell the tale, I can vouch for its effectiveness.”

  “Well,” Connie said. “Good gracious. You are full of surprises, Miss Blythe. Captain, do let me show you to your room. You will want to refresh yourself after your journey. Were the roads tolerable, would you say?”

  Most of the group drifted away to their various activities, and Connie’s voice could be heard diminishing into the distance. The brothers stayed in a loose group around Hortensia.

  “No wonder you were so calm in winging Sharp,” Humphrey said.

  “Oh yes, that was nothing at all in comparison to tigers and elephants. Although snakes — I do not like snakes, Humphrey, so you will have to deal with any spitting cobras we encounter in Silsby Vale.”

  “You winged Sharp?” Gus said in tones of wonderment.

  “She did,” Humphrey said proudly. “Although the devil has run off again. Only lingered long enough for the ball to be dug out of him, then he was gone. Not sure we shall see him again, this time.”

  “What a lady!” Gus said. “Tiger Blythe — you will be the toast of London, Miss Blythe, once this gets around.”

  “Will I? I am a very disreputable person altogether, you know — the daughter of a nabob, and no society manners to speak of. The patronesses of Almacks will never approve me.”

  “Ah, now that is where you are wrong, for although you would not be good ton in the ordinary way, you are an original. So maybe not at first, but you will get your vouchers for Almacks, Miss Blythe.”