Winning the Merchant Earl: Sweet and Clean Regency Romance (His Majesty's Hounds Book 8)

by Arietta Richmond

  The young Duchess favoured him with a glowing smile which lit up her face and clapped her hands together in delight.

  “Nothing would please me more, Lord Geoffrey – I will be sure to inspect them in great detail when we gather at your estate for Easter.”

  Conversation flowed, and Lord Geoffrey drifted from one group to another, more relaxed than he had been in months.

  They went in to dinner and, to his horror, Lady Odette insisted on thanking him, yet again, for his actions in saving her life, and Charlton’s, earlier in the year, even though those actions had meant the death of her father. Lady Harriet’s eyes shone with that alarming hero worship again, as the story was told for those who had not been present at the time. And he had been hoping that she had stopped seeing him that way! How could he ever live up to such a perception?

  He was no hero, he was simply a man who did what must be done, when it was needed.

  By the end of dinner, he was heartily glad to escape to the library and a glass of port with the other men.

  With only Hounds present, Lord Geoffrey felt comfortable enough to discuss, a little, his mission for Setford, in his new home, and his current frustrating lack of progress. Charlton regaled them with the tale of Lady Harriet trapping Lord Geoffrey into letting her help with the exploration of Witherwood Chase, and great merriment and teasing resulted.

  But it was not without sympathy.

  Geoffrey followed up with a description of the findings so far, including the weapons ‘museum’ in the attic – a find that they were all keen to see for themselves. His tales of dust sheets and mouse droppings, ugly paintings and archaic furniture were greeted with less enthusiasm, until he mentioned some of Mr Featherstonehaugh’s astounding valuations of the pieces.

  He was slapped on the back and congratulated on his luck. In his opinion, it was only fair compensation for all his, so far fruitless, searching for hidden compartments or passages.

  They settled to talking about possible places a door could be hidden, or a mechanism to unlock one, in a room or a hall. Lord Geoffrey took careful note of their ideas. This was the point at which, again, he missed Raphael’s presence – for Raphael was the one who would have immediately ‘seen’ a logical plan of attack to test for, and undoubtedly find, the hidden passages.

  His sharp mind had always been able to lay out an approach better than any of them could.

  Ah well, surely he would see Raphael at Charlton’s wedding, although, God willing, by then he would have found the papers and be done with this mission. He would be happy to have nothing more serious than selling paintings to discuss when next he saw Raphael. Although… he suspected that the conversation, when he and Charlton informed Raphael of what had happened with Porter Arbuthnot, and Isabella’s kidnapping, would be rather fraught.

  ~~~~~

  It was late January, and the captain of the Morton Prosperity had told them that they could expect to make port within the week. Raphael found himself oddly nervous – whilst he ached to see Sera, what would he say – would she even let him see her? He wanted to see his mother, to know how Gabriel had done, working in the business, to know what had been happening for Isabella, and to see the other Hounds, although he expected that he would not see them until Charlton’s wedding.

  The favour manufactory would be busy this few weeks, with Saint Valentine’s Day approaching – it seemed incredible to him that it was more than a year since he had first met Sera – how much life could change, in a year! With home coming so close, he and Oliver found themselves talking less, both caught up in thinking of what awaited them, and impatient to see land.

  As they followed the coast the last days of the voyage, and the shorebirds came to greet them, the waiting was almost too much to bear.

  ~~~~~

  Manning brought the news one evening, as Sera settled, exhausted, into the Mortons’ parlour. The Saint Valentine’s Day favours were even more popular this year than last, and it was almost impossible to keep up with the demand. Both Bella and Gabriel had been helping with packing the orders, and Jenkins was fully occupied just arranging the deliveries and taking new orders. Manning’s arrival brought them all out of their tired daze.

  “Mrs Morton, I’ve excellent news! The Morton Prosperity’s been sighted down the coast – she’s expected to make port tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Good, Raphael will be here in time to help packing those damn favours!”

  “Gabriel – mind your language. Thank you, Mr Manning. I will be so happy to see him home – these months have seemed so long.”

  Sophia smiled just thinking about the moment that she would see Raphael again. Sera simply sat, her mind a chaotic riot of emotion – tomorrow! She wanted to see him, desperately, wanted, if she were truthful, to throw herself into his arms and kiss him. But what would she actually do? How on Earth would she admit how wrong she had been. Perhaps she wouldn’t try, until she knew how he felt.

  If he had moved on, and found someone else to care for, whilst he was away, she would like to know that, before she made a complete fool of herself.

  Raphael and Oliver stood at the rail, watching the dock as the ship was eased in and tied up. Manning was waiting, the carriage behind him, and Raphael sighed with relief – he wouldn’t need to find transport, or do anything beyond get himself and his possessions off the ship in good order.

  “Oliver, do you have a plan for where you’ll spend tonight?”

  “No – I was thinking just to put up at an Inn. I’ll need to see my banker and my man of business in the morning, but then I’ll be away to Casterfield Grange as early as I can. I’ve been away from Georgiana too long.”

  “Would you consider staying at Morton House tonight? We’ve room enough to spare, if you don’t mind a night in the trade quarter of the city.”

  “I’d be most grateful. And, after all you’ve told me, I’m looking forward to meeting your family. As far as ‘the Trade Quarter’ is concerned, you know full well that I don’t give a damn for the aristocracy’s attitude to trade. Friendship is more important.”

  “I’m sure that my family will be just as interested to meet you. Let’s be off then. They’ve run out the gangway and there’s Billy with our trunks now.”

  They went down to the dock, feeling that odd dislocation where the land seemed to move beneath them, after so many weeks at sea. Manning came forward to greet them, and waved Billy towards the carriage with the trunks.

  “Oliver, may I introduce Mr Manning, who does miracles with my accounting, and the management of my shipping schedules? Mr Manning, this is Oliver Kentworthy, Marquess of Dartworth.”

  Manning bowed, and Oliver laughed. “None of that formality, if you will. I’m not fond of it at all Mr Manning.”

  “Manning, I’ve invited the Marquess to stay the night at Morton House – I’m assuming that we’ll all fit in the carriage, with the trunks?”

  “Of course, Mr Morton. Oh, and this came this morning, with a request to hand it to you as soon as you disembarked.”

  Manning held out a letter, addressed in a hand that both Raphael and Oliver recognised. Raphael took it.

  “I wonder what Setford has to say?”

  Raphael scanned the note, then handed Oliver a second envelope, which had been enclosed. Oliver opened it.

  “It would seem that my departure tomorrow will be a little more delayed. Setford asks that I meet him ‘at the usual location, of which Mr Morton can inform you’. I assume that you know what that means?”

  “Indeed I do. I rather think that you’ll enjoy visiting the place, you might even take something home for Georgiana.”

  Oliver looked confused at this cryptic response, but let it be. There would be time later to ask what Raphael meant.

  ~~~~~

  Stepping into the parlour at Morton House felt rather like stepping into a whirlwind. His mother, his brother, his sister and Jenkins were all there, as was Sera. Sera! His heart beat faster and a huge wave of relief washed thr
ough him. She was willing, at least, to be in the same room as he!

  Then his mother reached him, and swept him into an unashamed hug. And everyone – except Sera – began speaking at once. Through the incomprehensible babble that it became, he had eyes only for Sera, who met his gaze uncertainly, looking nervous, then looked away. His heart fell. Perhaps she had found someone else, had been true to her word never to see him again, and had spent the last six months getting on with her life, rather than thinking of him, as he had thought of her. But then, if that were the case, why was she here, now?

  He felt, in that moment, an acute rush of shame. For he had, when faced with her anger and coldness, not really tried to discover her reasons, or change her mind. He had simply run away, like a spoilt child denied his toy, and taken himself to the other side of the world to avoid dealing with it. If she had turned away from him completely, it was as much his fault as hers.

  His mother released him, and for a moment, he put his hands over his ears. They all stopped speaking, looking guilty.

  “Thank you. I do want to hear what everyone has to say, but… do you think that you could manage to tell me one at a time?”

  Sophia laughed, full of the joy of having him returned, and both Gabriel and Isabella looked a little shamefaced at having to be asked to behave. Raphael gestured to Oliver, who had stood close to the door and watched with amusement.

  “May I introduce Oliver Kentworthy, Marquess of Dartworth, who has been my travelling companion these last months. Oliver – my mother, Mrs Morton, my brother Gabriel, my sister Isabella, Lady Serafine Parkington, who is my business partner in the favours business, and Mr Jenkins, the man of business for that enterprise.”

  “I am delighted to meet all of you. Raphael has told me much about you, and it is wonderful to finally see you in person.”

  Both Gabriel and Isabella paled a little at his words, no doubt wondering just what Raphael had said about them. Sophia came forward, to greet him warmly.

  “Please, call me Sophia. Be welcome in our house.”

  “I have invited Oliver to stay the night, Mother, for he has business to attend to on the morrow, before he departs for his estates, and to see his wife, who he has sorely missed.”

  “One moment then, and I will make sure that a room is prepared, and dinner soon after. A bath as well, I think, for I am certain that after weeks aboard, that will be an appealing prospect?”

  “Most definitely.”

  “Only once I am bathed, will I allow everyone to talk my ear off.”

  Bella went to speak, then stopped, and nodded, Raphael laughed at her expression.

  “Bella, I promise that I will not disappear. You will have plenty of time to tell me everything.”

  As he left the room, Bella thought that he had no idea just how big an ‘everything’ that was.

  Sera had simply stood, drinking him in, and said nothing. He had barely acknowledged her. It was as she should have expected – she had no right to anything more, given how she had treated him. She pulled her pride about her. She would cope, and she would not reveal her heart until she understood his.

  ~~~~~

  By the time that Raphael and Oliver came downstairs, bathed, shaved, and more comfortable than they had been for some time, in clothes that were not stiff with the gritty accumulation of sea salt, dinner was ready. Jenkins had left, and Sera had also gone home, saying that her mother expected her, and Raphael hid his disappointment.

  If this was how it was to be, he would cope. At least he would see her, and perhaps, as they worked on the business, she would soften to him.

  He could only hope.

  Sophia forbade her younger children from launching into longwinded tales during dinner, insisting that they allow Raphael to eat in peace. When dinner was done, they repaired to the parlour.

  Once they had settled into the comfortable chairs, and the three men (for Gabriel had been included in that description, by Raphael’s intent) had glasses of port in hand, Sophia smiled at Bella as she sat, obviously desperate to speak and trying very hard not to.

  “Bella, I think that I had best ask you to be first to tell Raphael of all that has happened since he left, for I fear that you will explode should you have to wait any longer.”

  Bella let out her breath in a great whoosh of relief, before launching into her tale, which was delivered, as was typical for her, with much movement and impressions of people and actions.

  “There is so much to tell you! I barely know where to start!”

  “The beginning?”

  Raphael’s attempt to not laugh failed, and Bella gave him a disgusted look.

  “The beginning is sometimes a little hard to define. I think I’ll start just after we sent you that last lot of letters with the Morton Prosperity, when she sailed back to America. Up until then, most things had been ordinary. Business was good, all those new favour ideas were doing well, and things went along as they always had – except that you weren’t here. But a week or so after the ship left, things changed rather dramatically.”

  “Oh? Just what sort of drama are we talking about?”

  Bella took a large breath, and paused, looking around the room, ready to deliver her words for maximum impact. It was a performance worthy of the stage. Sophia, watching her, strangled her laughter.

  “I was kidnapped.”

  “What!”

  “I was kidnapped. And tied up and left in a nasty dark old warehouse. Until I was heroically rescued.”

  Bella swept her arms to the side, apparently attempting to indicate the scope of heroism involved. Gabriel, seated beside her on the couch, ducked just in time to avoid receiving her hand to his face. Raphael looked at his sister a moment, his expression shocked, and then looked to his mother for confirmation of Bella’s startling statement.

  “Yes, Raphael, she is serious, and telling the truth – however dramatically delivered.”

  “Perhaps it would be best if someone told me the whole story – in rather more detail, if you please. I am pleased to note that, whatever happened, you seem to have suffered no lasting harm!”

  “It was that Porter Arbuthnot! To think that I ever found him even vaguely attractive and interesting!”

  Bella shuddered, so violently that she resembled a cat shaking water off its whole body.

  “Well, daughter, I did say, from the start, that there was something about him I just couldn’t like. You must now admit it - my instincts were right.”

  “I suppose that I must. It’s rather lowering to think that I was such a poor judge of character, where he was concerned.”

  Raphael was rapidly becoming impatient.

  “We can discuss the quality of your judgement later. Would somebody please just give me the details of what happened?”

  “Oh very well. You have no sense of drama. Let me be blunt then. It seems that Porter had only been seeing me because he wanted to undermine our business somehow, and he hoped to learn things from me that would let him do that. But all that happened was that things he did gave us ideas, like the favours, which added to our success. It began to drive him a little mad. It turns out that it was him who set the fire at the manufactory a year ago.”

  Raphael’s fists clenched, and he found himself wishing that Arbuthnot stood before him, so that he could knock him down. He would pay for endangering Sera’s life – Raphael would make sure of it. Bella continued her story, unaware of Raphael’s reaction.

  “In October, I had decided that, if he was no better company that day than he had been for some time, I would not see him again. I wish I had decided that sooner. We went for a drive. He tricked Liza into going into the baker’s shop, then drove off without her, and refused to stop. He told me that he had a surprise for me. I was afraid, but what could I do? He drove into the old warehouse district, and stopped at a place that looked as if no one had been there for months. He insisted that I go inside with him, and then he flung me down and tied and gagged me. He was surprisingly strong. Per
haps because he had become quite mad by then.”

  Bella paused for breath, then launched into her tale again. “He was raving about having what was his rightful due, and making sure that his father never mocked him again. He locked me in a little room inside, and left me there. I had no idea when he might come back, and no one knew where I was. I panicked a bit, at first.”

  “That would seem a reasonable response in the circumstances!”

  “But I stopped myself. The ropes were tight, and the chair he had sat me on was rickety, and I didn’t want to fall over, because tied up like that, I wouldn’t have been able to get up. So I sat there, in the dark, for hours, not knowing what was happening. I was of two minds – I never wanted to see him again. But, because no one else knew where I was, part of me wanted him to come back. I was afraid that if he didn’t, no one would find me, and I’d starve to death.”

  At that point, Sophia took over telling the story and related how Sera had found her pacing with worry, and had been there when the ransom note was delivered. Raphael’s face darkened as she described what Porter had demanded. She nodded at his expression.

  “Yes, that was how I felt. Once I got past the shock, I was so angry that I could barely breathe. I was not willing to lose either my daughter, or your business. Poor Sera – she blamed herself for everything, saying that the results of her brother’s actions would never be done with, and that if she had never made the favours, none of this would have happened, Bella would not have been taken. I told her that was rubbish. If the boy was mad enough to do this, he would likely have done something regardless.”

  “I must agree with that assessment. War sends men mad at times, and in Spain, those who lost touch with the reality of things always made a reason for the insane things they did, no matter what anyone else had done.”

  “Exactly.”

  “He had told the boy to wait for an answer, so we sent back a note that agreed that we would do what he wanted, but only if he proved that he had Bella. I prayed that wasn’t a mistake, but I could think of nothing else that would bring the boy back again soon. Then I asked Jenkins to send for your friends – thank you so much for arranging that possibility, before you left!”