The Unmarriageable Collection (Books 1–3)

by Lancaster, Mary

  She frowned. “Then where does the banking come in to it?”

  “It’s my grandfather’s profession, my father’s, too, before he died. What a curious girl you are. They’ve gone right at the crossroads.”

  “Where does that lead?”

  “I have absolutely no idea. This is your country, not mine.”

  “The trouble is, we were never here much, until this last year, and I don’t really know it as I should. But I’ve been thinking. There were four of them, and there is really only one of us… Unless you have a pistol?” she added hopefully. “If so, I can shoot one of them for you.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate the generous offer.” He paused, examining the road sign pointing where the men had taken Matthew. “Corzone House,” he read. “Does that mean anything to you?”

  She shook her head. “To my knowledge, I’ve never met or heard of anyone who lives there. But our acquaintance in Sussex is quite small.”

  “Is that why you are bored?”

  “What makes you think I’m bored?”

  “Because it’s either that or idiocy that took you to the Hart dressed as a very unconvincing boy.”

  “I thought I looked excellent as a boy!”

  “I never said you did not look good,” he said wryly. “I said you were unconvincing.”

  She eyed him uncertainly, wondering, somewhat ridiculously in the circumstances, if there were a compliment in there. “Anyway, the Hart is a respectable house. Everyone says so. My sisters have taken tea there and even stayed the night.”

  “Not in the taproom, I’ll wager.”

  This was indisputable. She let her shoulders droop as they wished. “It was an impulse. I thought it would be fun, and it was right up until the end. I certainly never meant anyone to kidnap poor Matthew!”

  “No, that does seem very odd behavior.” He reached out, grasping her horse’s bridle. “Slow down. We don’t want them to hear us.”

  “But shouldn’t we rescue him before they take him into the house?”

  “Then we might never know why they took him.”

  “But they won’t let us in after him!”

  “Oh, there are always ways in,” he said vaguely. He glanced at her. “As there are ways out. I don’t suppose, for example, you left your own home by the front door tonight.”

  She brightened. “That is true. I hope the house is covered in ivy, for in this weather, there is bound to be an open window.”

  She thought his lips twitched, but by then, they had reached a turn in the drive and heard human voices mixed with the snorts of horses which were a little too close for comfort. They reined in and he dismounted silently. Without appearing to look at her—in fact, he seemed to be peering around the curve of the drive—he reached up and lifted her down. His hands were firm on her waist, the strength of his arms obvious. She remembered them catching her as she tumbled down the stairs. She had felt stupidly safe then, too.

  There was nothing safe about this situation. From close into the hedge beside him, she edged forward until she could see round to the house itself. Well-lit both inside and out, it was a small, classical dwelling. Henrietta was pleased to note it had a decent covering of ivy in several places.

  The men were dragging the struggling figure of Matthew between them up to the entrance. Outraged and terrified for him, Henrietta started forward, but her companion caught her arm, holding her still.

  At the top of the front steps, an elderly butler awaited Matthew and his escort.

  “Good God, I know that Friday face,” her companion murmured, releasing her arm. He seemed to be trying not to laugh. “You’ll be pleased to know we won’t need the ivy after all.” Leading his horse, he walked openly around the curve of the drive toward the house.

  All Henrietta could do was trot after him with her own mare. They tied the horses to the rail on the terrace, without anyone appearing to notice their arrival. The captain walked up the steps and pulled the bell, while Henrietta could only follow, with bewildered dread but fierce determination in her heart.

  The captain spared her a reassuring smile. Then the door opened and the same butler stood there. His eyes widened with alarm, even as his mouth dropped open.

  “Evening, Tranter,” the captain said, brushing past the astonished butler. Henrietta scuttled after him. “Take us up to her ladyship!”

  Who would, presumably, deal harshly with the violent criminals in her house. Cheered, Henrietta pushed her hat to the back of her head and looked about her. Although well-lit and elegant, the entrance hall gave unmistakable signs of recent neglect. It smelled musty and a few cobwebs hung about the corners.

  The butler, Tranter, turned toward a doorway on the left. “Please step in here, sir, and I shall inform her ladyship—”

  “Imbeciles!” The shouted insult came from a woman in one of the rooms to the right.

  And it was in that direction her companion immediately strode. “No need, Tranter. We’ll find our own way.”

  Thoroughly intrigued now, Henrietta hurried after him, listening with some satisfaction to the continuation of the lady’s scold. “How old is this boy? Nineteen? Twenty? Does he look anything like the mature and dangerous man I sent four of you to bring to me?”

  Henrietta stopped dead in the doorway, her pleasure evaporating. The lady, whoever she was, had caused this. The captain, however, didn’t miss a step as he strolled past Henrietta into the room, finally attracting the attention of all inside.

  The lady and the four ruffians gawped at him. One of the men moved instinctively toward him, allowing Henrietta a glimpse of Matthew who sat slumped on the floor, his head in his hand. There was blood on his fingers, on his cravat.

  With a cry, Henrietta launched herself across the room and threw herself down beside her old friend. “Matthew!”

  He raised his head, staring at her from slightly unfocused eyes. “Henrie?”

  Henrietta took his hand and glared at the lady who merely cast her a curious glance before returning to the captain.

  “You could have sent a note,” he said mildly. “A civil invitation.”

  “Would you have come?” she drawled.

  He spread his hands. “Here I am. Although flattered that you sent four men to bring me, you must have given them a very bizarre description.”

  “He were the only toff in the place!” exclaimed the nearest ruffian.

  The lady waved one careless hand toward Matthew. She was quite beautiful, all golden hair and white, perfect skin. It was impossible to guess her age. She could have been twenty-three or thirty-five. “And how threatening does he look to you, fool?”

  “He could be,” Henrietta raged. “If he were not set upon by four men at once! Shame on all of you for cowardly scoundrels!”

  The lady regarded her with aloof fascination. “My dear, who is this? What is this?”

  “I believe you’ve lost the right to a formal introduction,” the captain said, strolling across the room. “You may regard her as a severely ruffled feather.”

  Henrietta kept her furious gaze on the lady. “I require water, salve, and bandages for his wound. And you had better not have killed him.”

  A brief amusement flitted through the lady’s cold eyes. “He does not look dead to me.” She turned her head to the uncomfortably waiting butler, who left. More impatiently, she dismissed the four incompetent ruffians who fell over themselves to get out the door first.

  The captain, meanwhile, appeared to be helping himself to a glass of brandy from the decanter on a slightly dusty cabinet. Henrietta’s hackles rose afresh. He was already far too comfortable in this situation, with this woman he clearly knew very well, and now he was drinking her brandy.

  “You always travel with the comforts of home,” he observed, walking back toward Henrietta and Matthew. “Is this establishment a recent acquisition or have you merely borrowed it in the owner’s absence?” To Henrietta’s surprise, he crouched down beside her and shoved the brandy glass into Matth
ew’s hand. “Drink this, it will make you feel more human.”

  “You needn’t make me sound like a flim-flammer,” the lady snapped. “Of course, the house is mine. If you must know, it was my dowry. A trumpery thing, but finally useful.”

  “For what?” the captain asked, watching Matthew’s face as he obediently sipped the brandy.

  “For finding you, of course!”

  The captain glanced up at her. “Should I be flattered? Again?”

  “No,” the lady said crossly. “You have something of mine and I need it returned before you disappear back to sea or whatever else it is you get up to.”

  He rose to his feet as Tranter came back into the room bearing a bowl of water and a small chest under his arm. Henrietta thanked the butler and took them from him. At least Matthew was looking a little better. The frightening pallor of his face had warmed slightly and his gaze seemed steadier.

  Although she had little experience dealing with wounds—her mother and later Charlotte had always taken care of such things—she had received a lady’s education which included the proper care for sick and injured members of the household. In normal circumstances, of course, one would have servants to direct, but she was not about to trust Matthew to any of this lady’s people.

  “Sorry, Matthew, I don’t want to hurt you,” she murmured, and set about cleaning him up. Concentrating on her task, she nevertheless kept her ears open.

  “You’re not even wearing it,” the lady said angrily. It was an odd anger. Henrietta couldn’t tell if was mere irritation for the upset of her plan, or if she was genuinely hurt. But the nature of their relationship began to dawn on her with considerable distaste.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw him walk close up to her, saw the lady’s breast heave in brief agitation before her cool, mocking manner returned.

  “I’ll send it to you,” he said. “Why is it so urgent?”

  “Edward is ill,” the lady said carelessly. “Wants everything brought to him so he can make his will all over again.”

  The captain curled his lip. “You gave me Edward’s ring? And they say I am vulgar?”

  “Don’t try to be self-righteous,” she said with contempt. “It doesn’t suit you.”

  “Who the devil are these people?” Matthew asked Henrietta, low-voiced. “And what on earth do they want with me?”

  “Nothing,” Henrietta said ruefully. “Her stupid servants—or hired bravos, whatever they are—took you in mistake for him. No one has any idea how they made such a mistake. But I have to say that he has been quite helpful in finding you.”

  “You know him already.” Matthew frowned with the effort of remembrance. His head must have ached like the very devil.

  “Not really. I met him once. He was at the theater the night I found Minnie, and he saved me from falling head-first down the stairs. I don’t think this will have to be stitched, Matthew. It seems to have stopped bleeding. Let me just dress it and bandage it for now.”

  “Where is it?” the lady was asking the captain. “In London? Or in Sussex?”

  “I’ll send it to you,” he repeated. “You’ll have it the day after tomorrow.”

  “I suppose that will have to do. Pour us some brandy, Sydney, and I’ll get them to make up a room for the night.”

  So, his name was Sydney. Henrietta couldn’t make up her mind if it suited him or not.

  After a moment, he walked to the decanter once more. “Don’t bother. I won’t stay. I’ll be taking my friends home.”

  “There’s two of them,” the lady said carelessly, as if they weren’t present and listening. “Can’t they take each other home?”

  “No.” He sloshed brandy into two glasses. “Thanks to your people, I doubt he can take himself to the front door.” Unexpectedly, he glanced at Henrietta. “A spot of brandy, ma’am, to keep out the cold? Or shall I prevail upon our hostess for some other refreshment?”

  “No, thank you,” Henrietta said coldly, winding the bandage about Matthew’s head.

  “There you are,” Sydney told the lady, depositing one glass into her waiting, elegant hand. Carelessly, he clinked the side of his own glass against it and tossed the contents down his throat.

  “I suppose they can stay as well,” the lady said grudgingly.

  Sydney laughed. “My dear, you are priceless. Can you think of any reason why they would?” He threw his glass down on the table and walked up to Matthew, holding down his hand to him. “Come, my friend, time to stand up.”

  Henrietta took the glass from him.

  Matthew took Sydney’s hand and pulled himself up. “Not so bad,” he pronounced in apparent surprise.

  “Can you ride?” Sydney asked.

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “Drat, there are only two horses,” Henrietta exclaimed in sudden dismay.

  “Well, you’re only a slip of a girl,” the lady drawled, “and weigh as little as the ruffled feather he called you. I’m sure the gentlemen will think of something. I’m sure you’ll excuse me if I retire at this point. I’ve had a disturbed night.”

  “She’s had a disturbed night,” Matthew said wrathfully as she made her perfect exit. “She’ll have a damned sight more when the magistrates are after her and her bullies!”

  “I wouldn’t bother,” Sydney advised. “She’s very well connected.”

  “So am I,” Matthew fumed. “My father is the magistrate!”

  “Yes, but you are hamstrung by other considerations,” Sydney pointed out with a glance at Henrietta. He actually closed one eye in the subtlest of winks, and quite inappropriate laughter caught at her breath.

  “Damn it, so I am,” Matthew agreed, following the captain to the door. “I’m sorry, Henrietta, I don’t know what I was thinking letting you commit this folly!”

  “Letting me?” Henrietta said at once. “I seem to remember you only came along to protect me. Or at least win the wager.”

  “Well, I’ve made a mess of both,” Matthew said ruefully.

  “But only think of the fun you’re having,” Sydney pointed out, leading the way across the hall to the front door.

  “Well, it has been fun for us,” Henrietta said, surprised to discover this was true, now that her anxiety had abated. “For Matthew, not so much.”

  “I could live without the headache,” Matthew agreed, stepping past the captain into the fresh air. “But only think how frustrating, Henrie, we can never talk about this!”

  Henrietta walked down the steps behind him. “Well, I shall have to tell Eliza, and Charlotte will love the story, but no, I don’t think we should tell our parents. Or Almeria.”

  “We may have to tell them something,” Matthew said grimly, “if your absence is discovered. After all, we’ve already been gone far longer than we intended.”

  “You might have to marry him,” Sydney said, untying Henrietta’s horse.

  “She might have to marry you,” Matthew retorted.

  “Sadly, I am unmarriageable, or I would consider it an honor as well as a pleasure.”

  “Why are you unmarriageable?” Matthew demanded. “Leaving aside our late hostess.”

  Sydney held the stirrup for him, signifying he should mount. “You are guessing, wrongly as it happens. Besides, you are not so naive as to imagine such relationships are impediments to genteel marriage.”

  Matthew landed in the saddle. “What is then?”

  “Birth.”

  Matthew stared at him. “You mean, you’re not a gentleman?”

  “Matthew!” Henrietta exclaimed.

  But the captain only laughed. “Do you want to go back to the lady of the house? I assure you, her lineage is impeccable.”

  Matthew flushed. “I didn’t mean that, and of course I’m grateful, whoever the devil you are. I was only concerned for Miss Maybury.”

  “Well, stop bandying my name about,” Henrietta advised, holding up her hand, “and take me up in front so that I can guide the horse.”

  “I’m perfect
ly capable of guiding him myself!” Matthew exclaimed.

  “No, you’re not. You’ve been hit on the head and not half an hour ago you couldn’t even focus on my face.”

  “Well, I can now,” Matthew retorted, making it clear it gave him no pleasure.

  Henrietta smiled at him. “You are a gudgeon,” she said affectionately.

  Matthew’s eyes narrowed, and she knew she had said precisely the wrong thing.

  However, before she could make it right, Sydney made a noise of impatience, seized her around the waist, and swung her up into his saddle instead. “We don’t have time for this. You have parents to placate, and I have the morning tide to catch.” He leapt up behind her and gathered up the reins, presumably in case she imagined she had any chance of guiding his horse. “Matthew, this is your country. Since you’re injured, I suggest we go first to your house. How long from here?”

  “Under two hours to Seldon—maybe an hour and a half if we take the shortcuts. But then it’s another hour to Audley Park.”

  “And your horse is still at the Hart,” Henrietta remembered.

  “I’ll deal with the horse,” Sydney said. “I expect you fell off it when you hurt your head, so it will be no surprise to your family when a stranger brings back the horse tomorrow morning.”

  “You’re very good at this,” Henrietta said admiringly.

  He spared her a glance, reminding her how close he was. His arms enclosed her, his chest brushed against her back as he reined the horse around to face the drive. “Thank you. I’m adapting. Lead on, Matthew, fast as you’re comfortable with, but for God’s sake, say if you feel sick or dizzy. It can happen after a blow to the head, and the last thing any of us need is for you to be injured further.”

  Chapter Four

  Making use of the lanterns to light their way, they reached Seldon Manor in good time and without mishap. Henrietta was very aware of her uncharacteristic silence during the journey, but she had a lot to think about. To begin with, she worried about Matthew’s head wound and if he was truly well enough to ride. And then, she felt very strange, both oppressed and excited by riding with Sydney so close behind her.