The Convenient Bride

by Winchester, Catherine

  “I probably shouldn’t say anything but… well Max wants to start breeding racehorses.”

  “He’s already told me that,” May sounded confused.

  “I know, but I was wondering how he would feel about having a partner. We have the funds to buy the breeding stock and employ a trainer but with a partner, he could buy twice as much breeding stock. That would give Donald another interest down in England and he may even be inclined to attend the races we enter.”

  “That’s an excellent idea. Do you know if Max would be willing?”

  “I haven’t asked but I don’t see why not.”

  “Where is he going off to every day, anyway?” May asked.

  “Your father is taking him around the estate, teaching him the ins and outs of running it. I believe they’re supervising the end of the harvest at the moment. Max has even agreed to go to the Corn Exchange with Charles after the harvest this year.”

  “Maxwell is going to the Corn Exchange? That bastion of trade?”

  “I know,” Lucy laughed. “But considering how much time he spent being irresponsible, he’s surprisingly good at estate management. I might almost say that he enjoys it.”

  “Wonders will never cease.” May grinned. “But don’t you have to supervise your harvest too? Won’t having two estates make things difficult?”

  “The steward usually supervises those things, Charles is only more involved this year so that Max understands the different stages.”

  “And will you be going back to London for the little Season?”

  “I don’t think so. I'm a country girl at heart.”

  “You just want Max all to yourself.”

  Lucy grinned but didn’t reply.

  “You won’t be off the party circuit for long though, will you?”

  “We will do our duty but between the changes on my estate and Max learning the ins and outs of his, probably not as much as we used to. Although to be honest, I wouldn’t mind if we never did another London Season. I find I am quite content to spend my time in the countryside; passing my days riding with Max and my nights… well.” She blushed. “I think I am becoming quite provincial.”

  “Oh, that’s not becoming provincial, that’s being in love. I give you two years, then no matter how much you love Max, you would give your eye teeth for some other company. Like me.”

  “I have no sympathy,” Lucy declared, teasing her friend. “It’s your own fault for marrying a Scotsman. Why you couldn’t fall in love with a nice man from Hampshire or Bedfordshire, I don’t know.”

  “Yes, well we can’t all be so lucky as to have the love of our lives literally share the same house, can we?”

  They shared a grin.

  “Oh, is that them?” May asked, shading her eyes with her hand as she looked into the distance.

  “I believe it is.”

  “Then let’s head inside, I want to corner Max and see what he thinks about your partnership scheme before I say anything to Donald. If Max is interested, perhaps I can convince Don to stay on for another few weeks. Maud is coming to visit in two weeks and I haven’t seen her for an age.”

  The ladies turned and headed back towards Stark Hall.

  ***

  Max was looking forward to visiting the Corn Exchange. Lucy had described it as organised chaos, crowded, hot and so loud that at times she couldn’t hear herself think. She had only been twice, just enough to understand what went on there; the rest of the time she let her steward or his clerk take care of it.

  Many landowners allowed their staff to handle the sale of their crops but just as many liked to do so themselves, to ensure that they got the best prices. Max’s father was one such landowner, preferring to go with his steward if possible.

  Selling corn wasn’t as simple as turning up at market and auctioning it to the highest bidder because after the harvest, all the corn would go for a pittance. Instead you had to learn how much to sell and when to get the best price. Max found the whole process fascinating; far more interesting than he ever imagined he would. In many ways, he thought, it was like gambling, deciding when and how much grain to gamble at each meeting, as well as trying to guess how much or little others would be selling, which could drive prices up or down.

  As well as people like his father, there were all sorts of other sellers at the Exchange, from farmers to people like Lucy’s tenants, who rented smallholdings and tradesmen who imported corn. Thanks to the Corn Laws which taxed imports of corn, his father explained, there were far fewer such tradesmen these days.

  Unlike Lucy, Max thought it sounded interesting and he listened intently as his father described the activities, such as the private trades and the auctions.

  It was about twenty miles to their nearest Corn Exchange, which was also the one Lucy’s estate used, so the journey wasn’t a long one. As soon as they alighted from the carriage, Max could hear the noise from inside.

  Max thought that organised chaos was an apt description for the activities that went on inside, and he could only wonder how much more chaotic a cattle market would be, with the added animal noises. He found that he enjoyed the experience however, even if he was tired by the end of it.

  As they began the journey home, his father looked dead on his feet and Max felt bad for not having offered his help sooner. He was about to suggest that he handle the selling of their grain in future, when there was a loud bang. The horses bolted, causing Max and his father to be thrown around rather like rag dolls in the rear of the carriage until the carriage leaned to one side and with a sickening crack, the carriage pole snapped and then separated from the horses.

  The carriage continued leaning until it toppled over and both Max and Charles were thrown against the side. When the carriage finally came to rest, it was on its roof in the ditch by the roadside, lying at a 45 degree angle.

  Max helped his father into a sitting position and both men took a moment to compose themselves.

  “Are you all right?” Max asked.

  Charles nodded then began to cough. When he could speak, he pointed to Max’s head.

  “That’s a nasty cut.”

  Max felt where his father had pointed and his fingers came away wet with blood. He hadn’t even noticed.

  “I’ll live.” He withdrew his pepperpot revolver from his jacket. “Do you have your gun?”

  Charles nodded and withdrew a pistol from his coat. Unfortunately highwaymen were so common these days that no gentleman would travel without being armed. Even Lucy carried a gun outside of London, whenever she left the estate.

  Max got to his feet, only to be hit with a wave of dizziness. He leaned against the side of the carriage as he tried to get his equilibrium back, although the odd angle it had come to rest at didn’t help.

  “Are you all right?” Charles asked.

  Max nodded and when the dizziness passed, he held his hand out to help his father up. One door was trapped against the side of the ditch but the other they could open, though they would need to lever themselves up and out.

  Max went first, using his arms to pull himself up and through the door. The carriage shifted as he moved and he had to fight back a wave of nausea from his head wound. Although he was physically fit, he was panting heavily by the time he had pulled himself out. Perched awkwardly, clinging on to the side of the carriage, he took a moment to get his breath back and look around for the highwaymen. The coast looked clear, so he lowered his arm back into the carriage to help pull his father up.

  Once they were both out, they jumped off the carriage and went around to the front to check the driver, but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Given the rough ride after the horses bolted, Max thought that he had probably been thrown and telling his father to stay put, he made his way down the ditch a little distance, crouching to remain out of sight, then looked up at intervals.

  He finally spotted the driver, who was lying in the road, his leg bent at an unnatural angle.

  Max hesitated, wondering how far the horses had bo
lted until they had crashed. He was just about to stand up and make his way to the driver, when he saw the highwaymen. There were three of them but Max couldn’t make out any other details as he had to crouch down, out of sight.

  He made his way back to his father, knowing that the highwaymen would likely leave the driver alone since he wouldn’t have any valuables. Back at the carriage, he climbed out onto the other side of the ditch and he and his father made their way into the field.

  There was nowhere to hide in the field but it wasn’t particularly large and was surrounded by bushes which they could hide behind. Max knew they would be visible while they crossed the field but he couldn’t see that they had much choice.

  They made it across and pushed through the bushes, ignoring the branches that scratched them and tore their clothes. On the other side they both had to rest and Charles began to cough, though he did his best to be quiet about it.

  Max felt another wave of nausea and dizziness pass through him and to his horror, his vision began to darken at the edges. He did his best to cling on to consciousness but it was a losing battle and he slumped to the ground.

  His last thought was that he hoped someone else came past soon and chased the robbers away, for his father was no match for three highwaymen.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Lucy was getting concerned by 5 o’clock and by the time it came for them to get dressed for dinner, May was equally concerned. They both made excuses to Eleanor and Lucy assured her that delays were sometimes possible at the Corn Exchange, and that frequently people would go out afterwards to drink to a deal they had made.

  She had never known that to happen, especially with Charles but it was preferable to lie, or Eleanor could take to her bed for days with a fit of the vapours.

  As much as she didn’t feel like getting dressed for dinner, Lucy did go to her rooms to change so that things seemed as normal as possible.

  A knock came at her door before she had finished undressing and the Stark’s butler came in.

  “I apologise for the interruption, Ma’am, but I have received a visitor at the servants’ entrance who is demanding to see you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, Ma’am. It is one of Lord Stark’s tenants.”

  “Why on earth would he ask for me?”

  “I cannot say, Ma’am, but he is most insistent.”

  “Then lead the way.”

  She followed him down the servants’ stairs, through the kitchen and to the rear hallway, where a man was waiting, twisting his cloth cap in his hands and clearly agitated. Lucy didn’t recognise him.

  “Mrs Stark? Mrs Maxwell Stark?” he asked.

  “Yes, how can I help you?”

  The man took an envelope from his jacket and handed it to her. “I don’t know what’s goin’ on or why, but a gentleman came to see me, right posh he was too. Said to bring this to the Hall right away and give it to you, to no one but you.”

  “Did he say why?”

  “No, Ma’am. I asked, like, but he wouldn’t say. All he would say was that Lord Stark and his son were in trouble, big trouble, and I was to bring this.”

  “Did you try to detain him?”

  “Couldn’t really, he was on horseback and didn’t get off. Last thing he said was to hurry as their lives might depend on it, then he threw me a shillin’ and galloped off.” He pulled the coin from his pocket as proof. “I ran straight ‘ere, fast as I could.”

  “And what did this man look like?”

  “’E ‘ad dark hair. I couldn’t say how tall he was. His horse was chestnut though, and 'is clothes were fine, like the Earl wears.”

  That could be anyone but Lucy had a very nasty feeling that it was Giles, or perhaps another gentleman related to Madam Marie Poisson.

  “Thank you for your haste. I’ll take care of this.” She turned to the butler who was still with her. “Please, give him some more coins for his trouble.”

  She took the letter and headed straight to May’s rooms, ripping it open and reading it on the way. She knocked loudly until May opened the door.

  “Oh my Lord, what’s happened?” May asked, opening the door to their sitting room wide so that Lucy could enter. Donald came out from his bedroom, having also heard her.

  “A tenant just came with a letter he was told to deliver to me. It’s a ransom demand for Charles and Max.”

  Donald took the letter from her and quickly read the contents.

  “Nice hand, clearly educated but not someone I’m familiar with.”

  “Nor I.” Lucy agreed.

  May took the letter and looked as well but by the shake of her head, it was clear that she didn’t know the author either.

  “Do you have thirty thousand pounds?” Donald asked.

  “Yes, but it will take me some time to liquidate enough assets.”

  “We’ll help,” May told her.

  “Of course,” Donald agreed. “The real question is, what do we do now?”

  “What can I do?” she sounded exasperated. “The letter says that another one will follow with instructions for what to do with the money. I'm stuck here until I get that letter!”

  “Then what can we do?” May asked, taking hold of Lucy’s shoulders.

  Lucy slowly realised that while she had to remain here, Lucy and Donald didn’t. She began to nod as a plan formed.

  “Can you go to London?” she asked. “I will give you a letter for my lawyer and banker. My estate is in trust but my lawyer is trustee and he’s a good man, he will free up the funds for me. My banker was originally my father’s, he knows me well and what my assets are. He might agree to give you a loan against my London house until I sell it. Hell, he can secure it against my estate for all I care, just as long as he helps. I still don’t know if that will be enough though.”

  “Whatever happens, we will get that money together for you,” Donald assured her.

  “Thank you.” She smiled gratefully at him. “I think you should also go and see a Mr Pennington of Pennington Investigations. He has been looking into Max’s former mistress for us. She has tried to cause trouble in the past and I would bet good money that she is behind this, somehow.”

  “Do you know what they discovered?” Donald asked.

  Lucy shook her head. “Max has been getting regular letters but I didn’t want to hear about her; I told him only to tell me if there was something relevant. I left what is or isn’t ‘relevant’ to Max’s discretion.”

  “Make a start on those letters,” Donald told her. “We’ll leave tonight.”

  “What will I tell Eleanor?” Lucy asked.

  “Tell her that…” Donald trailed off as he tried to think.

  “It may be tempting fate,” May chimed in, “but we could tell her that your brother is seriously ill,” she suggested to her husband. “Mother won’t be too worried about a man she has only met once, and it’s more than plausible that we would make haste for such an event.”

  “Good thinking.” Donald nodded and turned to Lucy. “And tell Eleanor that you received word from Max and that he and Charles have gone to London on the promise of a very lucrative deal.”

  Lucy nodded, having been unable to come up with a better excuse herself.

  “We’ll need to take the letter you received and if we discover anything from your investigator, we’ll send a messenger immediately.”

  “Make sure that they know to come to the servants’ entrance; we don’t want Eleanor to catch on or that will just be one more person to worry about.” Lucy stepped forward and took their hands. “Thank you for this Donald, May. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here.”

  The tears, which had been threatening to overwhelm her since the note arrived finally overflowed and May squeezed her hand harder, then pulled her into a tight embrace.

  “He will be fine, I promise. They want money, Lucy, so it doesn’t make sense for them to harm them or they might not get their ransom.”

  “You’re right of cou
rse,” Lucy said as she pulled away, wiping at her tears. “Now, I’ll go and write those letters.”

  May nodded and as soon as Lucy had left, they made haste to pack what they would need for the trip.

  ***

  Lucy wasn’t sure how she got through dinner with Eleanor without breaking down and admitting that there was something dreadfully wrong, but somehow she managed to convince Max’s mother that he and Charles were fine and had journeyed to London at the last minute.

  Eleanor fretted that they didn’t have any clothes with them, and how would they shave and dress for dinner?

  Lucy reminded her that they had a house in London and that there would surely be clothes and razors and other necessities left behind that they could use.

  May and Donald did have an opportunity to pack before they left, but Eleanor worried that Donald’s brother would be seriously ill and that one of them might catch the disease. Lucy assured her that if it was contagious, the doctor wouldn’t allow them to see him.

  That argument only served to remind her of how her own family had died and her fear increased that Maxwell might be harmed, or worse. She had lost too many people that she loved already; she wasn’t sure if she could bear to lose one more.

  For some unknown reason, Eleanor never thought to even question that her daughter and son-in-law had rushed off, at the same time and to the same city, that her husband and son had supposedly been called to.

  After an evening of alternately calming Eleanor’s fears and making inconsequential small talk, none of which Lucy could even recall now, she excused herself to go to bed early. She changed into her nightgown then put a robe on and headed through to Max’s bedroom. She knew that he had received perhaps half a dozen letters from Pennington Investigations, and she was intent on finding those letters and learning as much as she could about Madam Marie Poisson.

  Thankfully she knew how Max organised his correspondence and with the sheaf of letters in hand, she returned to her own room to read through them.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Max awoke to a thumping headache and pain in every limb. He tried to bring his hand to his forehead but it was restrained behind him. He pulled and realised that his wrists were actually bound together.