by Linda Sole
25
Regency Romps
Book Two
Annabel’s Christmas Surprise
By
Linda Sole
This book is the copyright of Linda Sole. Her moral right is asserted 2012. It is illegal to copy into any format without the permission of the author or the publisher. All rights reserved.
Published 2012 by Linda Sole Publications.
I thank Jane Odiwe for permission to use this cover, which is a Regency motif designed by her and used in her wonderful Christmas cards.
No character in this book is related to real persons other than for historical reference.
I hope you enjoy the story.
Prologue
December 1815
The Army officer relaxed in the coach as it rattled over rutted roads, his eyes half closed. Although his wounds had healed, he was still more easily tired than he liked and it was for this reason that he was headed for the country. He had no expectation of finding things to his liking there but he had lived on short rations before and could do so again…A shot rang out in the darkness; his driver brought the vehicle to a halt with loud curses, almost throwing him from his seat. However, he braced himself, feeling in his greatcoat pocket for his pistol, which was always loaded. A man wrenched open the door and the traveller found himself staring into the muzzle of a pistol.
‘Get down if you value your life,’ the highwayman growled and stood back. ‘I warn you, this pistol is loaded and I do not fear to use it.’
‘I dare say you would not,’ the traveller murmured pleasantly and got down from the coach. ‘However, I think you may find that one of us may shoot first.’
The highwayman cursed as he saw that the groom, another man, who had slipped from the coach the other side and come up behind him and the Army officer all had pistols pointing at him. One inside a coat pocket it was true but clearly there. ‘Put it down, my good sir.’
‘Damn,’ the highwayman said as he stepped forward, the moon choosing at the moment to fall upon his victim’s face. ‘Good grief! Is it you, major? Well, of all the ill luck.’ He dropped his pistol instantly and the second man snatched it up.’
‘You know me?’ Major Goss said, his pleasant tone not changing one whit. ‘Take off your mask if you please, sir.’
‘I beg you will not so disgrace me,’ the other said. ‘Give me over to a magistrate but do not look at my face, sir, for I could not bear the shame.’
‘Take off the mask like the major said,’ the second man said and pulled back the hammer.
‘Pray do not shoot him, Jim. I believe I know this man. Is it truly you, Freddie?’
Sir Freddie Askew groaned and removed the mask. ‘Of all the luck that I should hold up your coach, Robert,’ he said. ‘But ‘tis all of a piece I swear. I am shamed that it should have happened…forgive me if you can.’
‘It strikes me that there is a tale behind this night’s work,’ Major Goss said. ‘Pray pick up your pistol, climb into the coach and tell me if you please. Jim take this dear fool’s horse and ride behind us to the inn. Now do not think to defy me, Freddie, or I might be tempted to hand you over to the Beak after all.’
Sir Freddie hesitated, then bent to retrieve his pistol, thrusting it into his saddle holster and handing his horse over to Jim Salter with a shrug. ‘What can I do? He would never act as one ought and do the expected thing.’
‘That’s the major,’ Jim agreed and grinned. He mounted the horse and fell in behind the coach as it lumbered off down the road.
Inside the coach, Major Goss had some work to make his friend speak, but when he did such a tale of infamy, the most pitiful and painful loss of a dear sister, and ruin followed, that he could scarce believe it. When at last it was done, he glanced at Sir Freddie’s face, which was pale, his mouth set grimly.
‘And now you will give me the name of this man – the wicked devil who abducted and seduced your sister before abandoning her. Her death in the river rather than face a life of shame must indeed have torn the heart from you – but to find yourself ruined overnight at the card tables by the bounder you suspect of ruining her must have enraged you beyond bearing?’
‘I accused him of cheating that night, for he most certainly did,’ Sir Freddie said. ‘I struck him in the face. He was reluctant to meet me for he knew me to be a crack shot, but he demanded the choice and chose swords…I accepted for nothing would do for me but to kill him.’
‘I would say there was little to choose for your skill with the sword is well known.’
‘He also has some fine skill with the sword. We fought hard and I pinked him more than once. Then I stumbled and fell and he had his sword at my throat. I swear he would have killed me had not someone informed on us. Before he could do his worst they burst into the clearing and we were all taken off to the magistrates and bound over to keep the peace on payment of a stiff fine.’
‘Were you able to pay it?’
‘Not at that moment, though I have since sent the money. It was one of the reasons that I took to the road – and I had other debts to clear. I have to live some way, Robert – at least until I can prove that he is the devil I know him to be…’
The coach had stopped. They had arrived at the inn and could see the lights from its windows and a lanthorn that hung outside, gently swinging in the wind.
‘We shall go in and bespeak a room and share a meal,’ Major Goss said. ‘No arguments, Freddie. I swear to you that you shall come home with me – and you shall live under my roof. Together we shall track down this villain, whom you have not yet named.’
Sir Freddie descended first and stood there in the light of the lantern as Major Goss followed. ‘I thank you for your goodness, but why should you embroil yourself in this affair, Robert?’
‘A little matter of a life saved. I do not forget what you risked for me in France,’ Robert replied. ‘Fool that you are, you should have come to me at once.’
‘I thought to handle this affair myself.’ Sir Freddie smiled and held out his hand. ‘I can do no other than accept for two heads are better than one and I shall not rest until this matter is settled.’
Robert reached for his hand just as the shot rang out and struck Sir Freddie in the chest. He staggered and swayed. Robert caught him before he fell and saw death in his eyes.
‘His name,’ he urged. ‘Before God I swear I shall punish him for what he has done to you, my best of friends.’
Sir Freddie struggled to form the words. Robert bent his ear and nodded as he heard the name, while behind him Jim had given chase and he heard an exchange of shots. His whole mind given to his dying friend, Robert did not turn until he knew the last breath was gone. Then, he looked back, ‘Well?’ he asked.
‘I may have winged him, sir, but he escaped on his horse and I thought it unwise to follow, for you might need me.’ He looked down at the man in his master’s arms. ‘Dead? Is the poor fellow done for?’
‘Aye, there’s no more we can do for him, but he will not rest easy in his grave unless we find the scoundrel that brought him to this sorry end. I gave my word and I shall not cease searching for the truth until I have the rogue where he belongs – and that is at the end of a rope.’
‘He gave you a name?’
‘Aye, he did,’ Robert said. ‘Ah, here comes the innkeeper. A magistrate must be fetched – but not one word of how we came to meet him, Jim. This is my friend Sir Freddie, a respectable man and murdered where he stood by some rogue unknown.’
‘As you wish, major,’ Jim said. ‘But you’re hardly out of your sickbed – and whoever the scoundrel is he
has killed once. I dare say he will not hesitate to kill again.’
‘Freddie once saved my life. I should not be here if it were not for him – besides, the honour of a lady needs to be avenged.’
‘Ah, then that’s a different matter,’ Jim said. ‘Me and Bert are with you, major. Just give the word and we’ll do whatever you ask…’
‘For the moment you can bespeak a room for each of us and then attend to the horses. I shall see the magistrate when he arrives…’
Chapter One
Christmas 1815
Annabel opened another of the many gifts, which her maid had brought up to her room together with more cards. It was Christmas morning and people had been so very kind to her, to all of her family. Perhaps because they had all been in mourning and so recently put off their blacks, it seemed as if they had even more visitors calling this year. A little sigh escaped her as she threaded the beautiful spangled scarf through her fingers. Mary must have sent for it from the store in London as a surprise for her, after she’d exclaimed over the illustrations in the Ladies Monthly Magazine, which was delivered regularly through the post. It was a pale aquamarine in colour shot through with silver and would go well with the new velvet gown her father had given her for Christmas. No doubt her sister and father had put their heads together.
She was so very lucky, Annabel thought, glancing at the exquisite gifts scattered across the bedcovers. Amongst the selection of pretty trinkets were enamelled patch boxes, a pretty silver cross on a chain, from her mother’s uncle, a silk painted fan with ivory sticks, leather gloves, a gold posy holder, some exquisite notepaper in a leather case, a silver-handled pen, and an enormous fur muff. Where the muff had come from she was not sure, because it was a complete surprise to her and there was no card. However, she’d plagued her father for one for years, and he’d said she should have one when she was old enough to wear it and not look foolish. He must have bought it for her as well as her new gown. She was thoroughly spoiled by her father, her uncles and aunts and friends.
So why then was she feeling out of sorts with the world?
If it was because her cousins had both found husbands – handsome husbands, and in Lydia’s case quite rich – then she was the veriest wretch. No, she was not a jealous cat and she would not envy her cousins. Indeed, she wished them every happiness – but could not help wishing that something exciting would happen to her.
Annabel had once thought herself in love, but the young man in question had hardly seemed to notice her, except on one occasion, though he had been all that was charming when he stayed with them…was it four Christmases ago? Could it be all of four years?
Yes, indeed it must be. Uncle Geoffrey, her favourite and best uncle on her mother’s side, had introduced him to their family party. He’d brought the young man, whom he said was at somewhat of a loss, because he had lost his family through a terrible accident and had been taken into Sir Geoffrey Harlow’s household, because his father had been a good friend.
‘I could not leave the poor fellow to spend Christmas alone,’ he’d told Annabel’s father. ‘Robert thought it might put you out but I was certain you could find room for one more, for your hospitality is always lavish at this time of year.’
‘Good grief, Geoffrey, I should have been insulted had you not brought him,’ Lord Savage said. ‘I am sure it is a case of the more the merrier.’
Annabel was not sure why she had immediately taken to the young man, who was some four years her senior. He wasn’t perhaps as handsome, as some of the young men in her district, amongst whom she had several admirers even at her young age, but there had been something in his serious grey eyes that had drawn her to him instantly. His hair was dark, almost black indeed, his face a little pale and grave – but there was no great surprise in that considering the loss of his family. That Christmas day she’d seen him sitting or standing alone, as if he could not bring himself to make one of the merry party, and she had tried to draw him out a little by engaging him in conversation.
‘I was sorry to hear of your sad loss, sir,’ she’d told him, though at that time personal loss had not touched her and she did not truly understand it. ‘I am glad you are to make your home with Sir Geoffrey, my aunt and his daughters, for they are good people.’
‘Yes, indeed, Miss Annabel,’ he replied in a sober tone. ‘I consider myself fortunate. However, it is merely a temporary arrangement for I intend to enter the army early next year.’
‘Oh…’ She had been surprised and a little disappointed for she’d hoped they would meet often at the various dinners and balls her father’s neighbours gave during the year. ‘I suppose it is as well as any career if there were no war but…’ A little shiver ran down her spine. ‘I dare say you find it exciting to be going off to fight the French on the Spanish Peninsular?’
‘I must make my way in the world somehow,’ Robert Goss replied with a faint smile. ‘My father’s estate is encumbered and I must sell all but the house and the home farm to pay his debts. I shall let what is left to a tenant for the next few years, for I shall have no use for them – and I think I should not want to live in my family home, for the time being at least.’
‘No, I dare say it seems empty,’ Annabel said, thinking it must echo with the ghosts of Christmas past. ‘But you have a home with Sir Geoffrey should you wish for it, Mr Goss.’
‘He has indeed been very kind,’ Robert acknowledged. ‘I was grateful for the invitation to spend Christmas here with him and your family, for I should otherwise have been alone.’
‘No one should be alone at Christmas,’ Annabel said and smiled at him. ‘We are happy to have you here, sir – but if my chatter disturbs you, please tell me and I shall leave you in peace.’
‘No, how could it disturb me?’ Robert asked and for a moment the shadows faded from his eyes. ‘It is quite warm in the house, do you not think?’
‘Yes, I suppose it is,’ she agreed. ‘Papa always has the fires lit, especially at Christmas for he would not wish his guests to be cold.’
‘I should like to walk. I think I saw a pretty lake as we arrived, but it was too dark to see much last night. Would you care to show me something of your father’s grounds, Miss Savage?’
‘Please call me Annabel. Mary is Miss Savage, the elder by eighteen months, you see. I should very much like to walk with you – if you can put up with me. My family call me a chatterbox but I can be quiet if you wish?’
‘I like the sound of your voice,’ he replied. ‘I may not always reply and you must not think me rude if my thoughts are elsewhere – but I shall enjoy listening to you talk.’
Annabel’s cheeks felt hot. Her heart skipped a beat because no one ever took her seriously, and she felt that he did – he liked the sound of her voice.
‘I will put on my coat and hat,’ she said, ‘and a warm muffler. Gloves too but not a muff because I do not have one.’
‘I dare say you wish for one of those excessively large ones the ladies of the Ton sport in London Town?’ he said, a quizzing look in his eye. ‘I have seen some that are little short of ridiculous but of course very fashionable.’
‘Yes, very,’ she said. ‘Please await me in the hall. I shall not keep you more than two minutes.’
He raised his eyebrows but she had surprised him returning almost before he had found and put on his own coat, which supported only three capes but was of excellent cut. Seeing her look, he smiled oddly.
‘I dare say you think me very flat to have no more than three capes, Miss Annabel? I am not one of the Dandy set nor yet a Corinthian, though I can drive a carriage and four as well as any man, and I fence, hunt and shoot, but I do not indulge in the pugilistic art.’
‘I am glad of it for it is a horrid sport,’ she said and gave a little shudder as they left the house and began to walk through the gardens. ‘Though I know most of my cousins like it – and they will go anywhere to see a mill or a cocking.’
‘Each as barbaric in their way as the other,
’ he agreed. ‘I dare say some would think the same of hunting, but foxes need to be kept down or the countryside would be overrun with them.’
‘Papa hunts and so does my uncle Harlow,’ Annabel replied, ‘but though I have been allowed to join the hunt on a few occasions, I turned away after the first few fields. For although I find the chase exhilarating I do not care to be there at the end.’
‘I think quite a few ladies feel as you do but most would not dare to say it,’ he said and his mouth quirked. ‘Mr Brummel was heard to say once that he never went further than the first field, because he did not wish to muddy his top boots – so you have nothing to blush for in declaring your preference.’
‘Oh, la,’ she said. ‘Now that is what my father would have no patience with.’
‘Brummel says much for effect,’ Robert replied. ‘His every word is doted on, you know, and he can make or break a newcomer with the lift of his brow.’
‘What a conceited fellow he must be.’
Robert looked at her in amusement. ‘The strange thing is that he is not all conceited. I believe he is laughing at society and it is the foolishness of others that they make him the arbiter of good taste. If he does not think something beautiful or good Ton then it will be thought vulgar by almost everyone.’
Annabel trilled her laughter. ‘I think you are making it up. Surely one man cannot have so much power? For he is not the King nor yet a duke.’
‘No, but he can make a duke blench just by lifting his brow. You think I jest, Miss Annabel, but I promise you it is the truth.’
‘Do you know Mr Brummel well?’
‘We were acquaintances and he would sometimes take my arm to enter Brooks or White’s if he saw me about to enter, but I should not say I knew him well. Who can ever know another person in truth? Do you not think we all hide our secrets from the world?’
