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The Unmarriageable Collection (Books 1–3)

Page 62

by Lancaster, Mary


  Again, Lily had hesitated and then she said, “If you ask me, he’s heartsore.”

  “For my sister?” Charlotte had asked bluntly.

  Lily had lowered her eyes and nodded. She saw things, perceived things other people did not. And Charlotte was growing increasingly sure that she occasionally gave matters a little push in the direction she believed they should go. Like herself and Alvan. And Cecily and Verne. To say nothing of John Coachman and Mrs. Coachman.

  “What sort of a man is he?” Charlotte had asked.

  “The captain? He’s a man you can trust.”

  “Where is he?” Alvan had demanded, striding impatiently into the coffee room. Catching sight of the figure stretched out on the bench, he’d checked.

  “Coffee and breakfast, if you please, Lily,” Charlotte had said. “For three.”

  Although he was a little older than she had imagined, nothing the captain had said or done during their talk had given her cause to doubt Lily’s—or Henrietta’s—assessment.

  “Do you know,” she confided to her husband as they rode back to Audley Park, “he might be just what Henrietta needs.”

  “I certainly prefer him to the snake she engaged herself to,” Alvan said bluntly. “Rudd totally ignored her last night after forcing your father’s hand over the announcement. It may have been a relief to her, but it was hardly the behavior of a proud or caring man. And if what Cromarty says is true, someone needs to push his teeth down his throat.”

  Charlotte blinked. “I believe the captain might be before you there, but maybe you could hold his coat while he does it.” Alvan laughed, and she stretched out to take his hand. “Thank you for looking after my troublesome family.”

  He shrugged. “Even if they weren’t part of you, I would still like them.”

  She pressed his hand to her cheek and kissed it.

  Several hours later, when most of the overnight guests had departed, Charlotte was with her siblings when, from the window, she saw the agitated arrival of Mrs. Lacey, without either of her children or her husband. She looked distraught enough to send Charlotte hurrying from the room and down to the drawing room, where, refusing to be divested of her bonnet or pelisse, Mrs. Lacey was demanding to speak to both Lord and Lady Overton.

  “Fetch his lordship,” Charlotte’s mother told the footman and tried to placate her guest, although with a rather comical grimace over her shoulder at Charlotte.

  Entering the room, Charlotte saw that beside Alvan, only Rudd and Lord Silford were present. “Let me ring for tea,” she suggested.

  “There is no time for that! I am trying to explain how urgent the matter is and trust me, it will be worse for your daughter than my son!”

  “What will be?” Lady Overton asked, bewildered.

  “Disgrace! My lady, I am very afraid that Henrietta has eloped with Matthew!”

  Lord Rudd stiffened in his chair, looking understandably put-out.

  “Nonsense,” Lady Overton and Charlotte said together, which only caused Mrs. Lacey to bridle further.

  “It is not nonsense, and it has been happening right under our noses, mine and your ladyship’s. Neither of us knew, for they have been slyer than I ever could have imagined. Matthew never used to be sly.”

  Lady Overton frowned at this implication that it was somehow her daughter who had imparted the recent slyness, but she let it pass.

  Alvan said, “What reason can you have for imagining they have eloped?”

  Mrs. Lacey clutched her heart. “I saw them!”

  “Eloping?” Charlotte asked, bewildered. “How would you know?”

  “They embraced on my lawn, right in front of my morning room window. And they told me at the stables Matthew had ridden off with her.”

  “Well, they wouldn’t ride all the way to Gretna Green,” Lord Overton said reasonably, entering in time to hear the last exchanges. “It must be four hundred miles. You have let shock overset your mind, but I guarantee there is nothing to this. Matthew is probably home already.” He cast a quick, reassuring smile at Rudd, which annoyed Charlotte. Why were they placating the man?

  “Then send for Henrietta,” Mrs. Lacey demanded. “And let her tell me what a fool I am. If she is here!”

  Charlotte rang the bell. “Go up to Miss Henrietta’s chamber and ask her to join us in the drawing room,” she said to the maid.

  Behind her back, she crossed her fingers that Henrietta was there. The plan had been for Cromarty to enter unseen and take her away somewhere to talk, while Alvan kept an eye on Rudd, and Alvan’s valet watched Rudd’s. They had all trusted Cromarty to behave with propriety.

  The maid stuck her head back in the door. “If you please, my lady, Miss Henrietta is not in her chamber.”

  “You see?” exclaimed Mrs. Lacey.

  Lady Overton spared her an irate glance before commanding the maid to find her. “And send Miss Blackridge to me,” she added. She scowled direly. “And the children.”

  “Mama,” Charlotte objected.

  “Well, it’s utter nonsense!” Lady Overton insisted. “But if Mrs. Lacey wishes us to turn our entire household upside down to prove it, I suppose I must, for the sake of old friendship.”

  Mrs. Lacey looked stricken.

  “Truly, I think you are mistaken in this, ma’am,” Charlotte said hastily. “Only consider, what reason could Henrietta have for eloping with Matthew?”

  Rudd curled his lip.

  Mrs. Lacey bridled once more. “Are you saying my son is not an eligible husband for her?”

  “Hardly,” Alvan put in. “I believe in fact, ineligibility is the prime cause of elopements.”

  “In truth, we have been used to regarding Matthew and Almeria as extra siblings,” Charlotte said. “And besides, I have reason to believe my sister’s heart is given…elsewhere.”

  Mrs. Lacey regarded Lord Rudd who still sat rigidly in his chair. “They have fooled us all.”

  Charlotte threw up her hands and turned to face Miss Blackridge.

  “Ah, Eunice, my dear,” said Lady Overton. “Perhaps you know. Did Henrietta step out for any reason?”

  “I have not seen her since before breakfast, my lady.” Eunice, who seemed an odd friend for Henrietta, was very stiff and inexpressive. “She said she had a headache and would not come down, although she wished to go riding afterward. When I came back, she was gone.” The girl colored. “I confess, I checked, and her riding habit is not there. I can only suppose she went without me.”

  “I told you!” Mrs. Lacey exclaimed. “She has eloped with Matthew!”

  Eunice whitened.

  “It’s true,” Mrs. Lacey said sorrowfully. “Dear Lady Overton, I have not told you all because I disliked to hurt you. Matthew told me he was going to Brighton a couple of weeks ago to court a young lady he had met by chance. I paid no attention because you know what they are like at that age, but now I’m convinced he followed you there to see Henrietta.”

  Lady Overton frowned as though going over in her head every encounter.

  “And there is more. They have been meeting clandestinely at night.”

  “Oh no!” Lord Overton roared suddenly. “I have been patient up until now, but that I will not believe! Nor will I have it bandied about my own home or anyone else’s!”

  The children, who had just trooped in with Miss Milsom, almost bolted out again at the sound of their father’s rare anger. But Lady Overton said, “Eliza, Richard, to your knowledge, has Henrietta ever met Matthew in secret?”

  The boys shook their heads. Eliza looked stricken and slipped her hand into Charlotte’s. But Lady Overton’s gaze followed her. “Where is she now?”

  “I don’t know,” Eliza whispered.

  “When did she meet Matthew in secret?”

  Eliza’s grip tightened.

  Charlotte said calmly, “I can explain that. It was nothing but a wager, a dare, if you like, since there was no money involved. It was improper most definitely, but not remotely romantic. Henrie alre
ady told me about it.”

  Lord Rudd finally broke his silence, rising to his feet in a decided manner that drew all eyes. “I don’t know why we are all sitting here talking about it when we should be out looking for them. If she has eloped, she will be heading north—”

  “She has not eloped,” Alvan interrupted. “And if she had, it would not be your place to look for her. Rather, it would be your fault.”

  Charlotte was frequently proud of her husband, but never more so than now. Rudd, who had clearly never troubled to look beneath the surface of the amiable if rather aloof duke, was taken utterly by surprise.

  “Your grace has no reason to make such an accusation,” Rudd blustered. “It is possible I shall take offence.”

  “Please, do,” Alvan invited. He turned to Lord Overton. “Sir, if Henrietta has done anything foolish—which I doubt—it is because he has frightened her into it with threats of violence to those she loves. I would not harbor him in your home. He is certainly not welcome in mine. Charlotte and I shall find Henrietta—and Matthew if he is with her—and bring them home.”

  *

  There was nothing for Rudd to do but depart Audley Park in high dudgeon. And it was true he was furious, not so much with Overton, or even Alvan, but with Henrietta who had dared to call his bluff. Well, he who cried last, cried longest, and that would be Henrietta. While Alvan and the other fools chased her up the Great North Road to Scotland, he would merely go to the Hart. And once the thrice-damned Cromarty was dead, Rudd would elope with her. When all her family and friends cast her off, it would add even more misery to her life. And strengthen her dependence on him. Perhaps this ridiculous start of hers was even for the best.

  “Going so early?” Lady Carew drawled as he ran past her down the stairs.

  “Dashed dull around here,” he managed, slowing up to maintain his bored image.

  “Indubitably. But is it true your betrothed has run off with the squire’s son?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “It would serve you right,” she mused, as if he had not spoken. “You always had a tendency to overplay your hand, Rudd.”

  “What would you know? Tied to the same invalid for ten years without any way of getting your hands on his money? Even when he finally turns up his toes, he won’t leave you half what you were hoping for. London is full of it. He’s found you out at the end, my sweet.”

  At least it drew a rare flush to her delicate cheeks, which gave him some satisfaction. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. But you can still kiss my hand when I’m Countess of Silford and have the world and its wealth at my feet.”

  Rudd laughed viciously. “Oh, trust me, that dream has passed. Why would the girl elope with the squire’s son when an earl’s heir is at her beck and call?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “Work it out,” he advised. “But you’re too late. Now, there will be no pieces for you to pick up. Goodbye, Susannah.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Charles didn’t even see them coming.

  Without fuss, Sydney had led Henrietta and Matthew straight to an inn in Finsborough, the nearest town.

  “You mean he’s just hanging around there waiting for an opportunity to kill you?” Matthew said doubtfully.

  “More or less.”

  “Then you come here often?” Henrietta asked. “And he knows that?”

  “I’ve been here occasionally,” Sydney said, dismounting and turning to lift her from the saddle. It was sweet to jump into his arms, feel the grip of his hands at her waist, and from his fleeting smile, he liked it, too.

  “Then don’t you think we should take Henrietta somewhere out of danger?” Matthew asked nervously, glancing around the windows facing the courtyard. “In fact, you should wait with her. Let me go in. I can speak for my father, you know, that’s why he sent me.”

  “He sent you to keep an eye on me,” Sydney said without rancor. “To make sure I stay within the law. After all, he doesn’t know me from Adam. As for the rest, it’s possible Charles might shoot you by mistake—his aim is erratic from what I hear—but he isn’t interested in killing anyone but me.”

  While the ostler ran to the horses, Sydney drew Henrietta’s hand through his arm and advanced to the door of the inn.

  “Then you should definitely wait here!” Matthew exclaimed.

  Sydney said, “He thinks I’m at sea.”

  “How exactly has he come to think that?” Henrietta inquired.

  “A friend of mine told him.”

  Henrietta still wasn’t convinced. After all, both Rudd and Lady Carew had seen him at Audley Park last night and they could easily have sent Charles word by now. Of course, Lady Carew didn’t want Sydney dead. She only wanted her lover back as a husband when her own died. Henrietta wondered if poor Sir Edward was clinging onto life simply to spite her.

  But Rudd, unspeakable man, most certainly wanted him dead.

  Her fingers dug into Sydney’s arm as they entered the building.

  “Captain,” the innkeeper greeted him, emerging from the taproom with a hint of nervousness and bowing. “How may we serve you today?”

  “Perhaps a glass of lemonade for the lady. And a couple of pints of ale.” He turned to Matthew and nodded to the empty room across the hall. “Wait for me in the coffee room.”

  “Not a chance,” Henrietta said firmly when Matthew tried to urge her in that direction. From where she stood in the hall, she could see right through the busy taproom, following Sydney’s course. And at last, she saw Charles Cromarty, too.

  He sat alone at a table, smiling faintly, as though he deigned to enjoy the rough chatter and jests going on around him. But several heads swiveled in Sydney’s direction, and Charles eventually looked, too.

  He shot to his feet. Even at this distance, Henrietta made out the blind panic in his face. Stumbling backward, he grabbed the greatcoat from the bench and snatched up the pistol that had been hiding beneath it.

  “Oh, no!” Henrietta started forward from sheer instinct, but Matthew grabbed her arm, jerking her back as several gasps and warnings rose in the taproom.

  There was barely time for them. Before Charles even had the pistol turned around the right way, Sydney sprang forward and snatched it out of his hand. Dropping it on the table with some contempt, he seized Charles’s retreating shoulder and yanked him forward.

  “A word,” he said pleasantly, “before you come with me.”

  “Assault!” Charles yelped, trying to lash out at Sydney and missing. “Kidnapping! Summon the watch! The magistrate!”

  “What a coincidence,” Sydney said, pushing him through the taproom door, “that’s exactly who we’re going to see. After my word.” His gaze clashed with Henrietta’s. “You’ll be more comfortable in the coffee room. My cousin and I shan’t be long.”

  Before she could say anything, he was hauling Charles with him through another door which he kicked shut behind him.

  As if nothing untoward had happened, the innkeeper emerged from the taproom with a tray of ale and lemonade.

  “This way, Miss,” he said cheerfully, leading the way to the coffee room. This time, Henrietta followed.

  As she sipped her lemonade, her ears straining for sounds of fighting or screaming, she said abruptly. “Do you suppose he’s beating Charles to a pulp?”

  “Wouldn’t blame him if he did,” Matthew confessed. “I should probably go and see.”

  Henrietta caught his arm and pulled him back down beside her. “That’s what I thought at first, but I’ve been thinking. The men on his ship—most of whom you would not wish to encounter anywhere else!—were all obedient and cheerful, and I saw no signs of violence. I think he can keep men in line without it.”

  “I hope you’re right. It will make a more comfortable journey back to the Hart.”

  A few minutes later, a door opened across the hall and Sydney walked into the coffee room, followed by a pale, chastened, and distinctly
nervous Charles, who made a jerky bow in their direction and mumbled something Henrietta couldn’t make out.

  “He says, how do you do,” Sydney translated, reaching for his ale and taking a few appreciative mouthfuls. He nudged Charles ungently with his free arm.

  “I wish to apologize for endangering you and your brothers at the beach,” Charles blurted. “I never expected you to be there.”

  Bewildered, Henrietta transferred her gaze to Sydney.

  “He understands a little better the consequences of his actions,” Sydney said smoothly. “He’s a spoiled little worm but there might be a decent man in there waiting to fight his way out. We’ll see. The rest of his life starts at the Hart. Shall we go?”

  Sydney may have reduced Charles somehow to temporary obedience, but he took no chances. Although Charles rode his own horse, Sydney attached a leading rein.

  “Has he really changed sides so quickly?” Henrietta asked doubtfully as she rode alongside Sydney. “Or is he just scared witless of you?”

  “A bit of both. I penetrated his wall of indulged entitlement with a little healthy fear. That’s genuine enough, but who knows how long it will last?”

  She frowned faintly. “If that is all it took… Why did you not talk to him like this at the beginning? Wouldn’t it have been simpler than having him watched and pretending not to be here?”

  “Probably.” He met her gaze with a rueful curve of his lips. “I did not care enough. I never meant to have any more to do with my father’s family.”

  She left it there, her heart warmed by the implications. For even with all the adventure in the world, he had been lacking something in his life without even knowing it. Stability, perhaps, a responsibility that went beyond a few ships and a bank. A place in the world. A true home. For he had grown up never truly part of either his mother’s world nor his father’s. Despised by boys and men like Rudd, held at a distance by those supposedly lesser men his father had chosen to live among, he had sought and forged a life of his own, merely tinkering around the edges of his grandfather’s business.

  She wanted to be what he had been missing. She thought she was.

 

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