‘Why did you kidnap Sophie?’ Robert asked, breaking the silence.
‘I didn’t,’ Sebastian spat out. ‘I’d thought about it, but she came willingly enough once I spun a few lines about being like Henrietta. She even wrote the notes, you know.’
Robert flinched, remembering how he’d accused Henri about the notes. ‘You seduced her.’
‘It was the only way. You refused to let me speak to her alone and I thought she pined for me just as I pined for her. And abduction is far too harsh, Montemorcy, merely forcible persuasion. I wanted her to admit the truth and recognise that we belonged together. How wrong I was about that hell-cat. Now I can’t wait to see the back of her. But first I will get my debts paid.’ He leant back in his chair and a slow smile crossed his features. ‘Oh, yes, I will be rolling in clover. Things always work out in my favour.’
‘Pity you haven’t read her father’s will. Sophie possesses a small allowance, if she chooses to marry without my consent.’
Cawburn’s mouth opened and shut several times. ‘But…but I have a title.’
‘I’ve never been very impressed with titles. It is more the measure of the man. If you have ruined Sophie, and it becomes necessary for you to marry, then I will be holding the purse strings.’
‘You could pay me to keep my mouth shut. Just enough to get my creditors off my back.’
‘Blackmailers always return for more.’
‘Not blackmail, just a way of helping out.’ Cawburn signalled to the innkeeper for two more tankards of beer. He cleared his throat. ‘However, you are in no position to judge, not being a man of honour.’
‘I refuse to play word games with you, Cawburn.’ Robert clenched his fist, counted to ten and unclenched. It was not worth smashing Cawburn’s face in. Not with witnesses. ‘You should be grateful if I do not set the law on you. Abducting an heiress is not looked on with favour in any county of England.’
‘You would not want to do that to your future relation. After all, we are all honourable men here and wish to do the correct thing, the thing society expects from honourable men.’ With each repetition of the word honourable, Cawburn appeared to grow more self-assured, as if the very word was a magic talisman.
Robert pressed both his palms into the wooden table and took deep breaths. ‘Plain English, Cawburn.’
Cawburn gave a laugh. ‘I was speaking about your marriage to Henrietta.’
A great rushing noise filled Robert’s brain. What did Cawburn know? He had to be ignorant about everything that had passed between Henri and him. He had left before Robert arrived at Dyvels and discovered Henri in the garden. Cawburn was merely clutching at straws and seeking to disconcert him. What was between Henri and him stayed private until she decided otherwise. ‘Am I getting married to Lady Thorndike?’
Cawburn raised himself up and put his face close to Robert’s. His blue eyes shot daggers. ‘You and my cousin have been travelling together. I don’t see her maid. And you must have spent an intriguing night together last night.’
The back of Robert’s neck crept with ice. He wasn’t worried about himself, but about Henri. ‘Would you stoop to blackmailing your cousin? She has saved you so many times.’
‘I rather thought to keep it between us two. After all, you don’t want to know what she truly thinks of you.’ Cawburn kissed his fingers. ‘I knew there was a silver lining to your interest in her.’
‘You overreach, Cawburn. Blackmailing is a dangerous occupation. What’s more, Grace has been with us all this time.’
‘It is of no consequence—in my time, I have seen enough women who have been bedded. How they look and smile.’ Cawburn gave a falsely angelic smile. ‘I am doing you the honour, sir, of assuming it was you who bedded my cousin. However, if you are not the man, would you kindly inform me of the man who is?’
Robert stared open-mouthed at Cawburn. ‘You seek to blacken your cousin’s name? She has protected you all these years. She has looked after your mother while you enjoyed the fleshpots of London!’
‘Now, Montemorcy, do you or do you not intend to marry my cousin, Lady Thorndike, now that you have done more than kiss her cheek?’
Robert resisted the urge to connect his fist with Sebastian’s face. Cawburn had just given him the glimmering of an idea. He could engineer a convenient engagement with Henri. It would allow them some privacy and he could work on persuading her to accept him for ever. ‘If that was the case, I would intend to marry your cousin.’
Sebastian took another pint of beer from the innkeeper. A strange expression flitted across his face. ‘When is the date set for?’
‘It is not set,’ Robert admitted. The sweat started to drip down his neck. Henri had no wish to remarry, and not to do so left her vulnerable to bounders like her cousin. ‘And I merely said “if”.’
‘I suspected as much. Intentions count for naught, as you once said to me.’ Cawburn tapped the side of his nose. ‘For a considerable sum, I’m willing to forget the matter.’
‘I’m no more receptive to this sort of blackmail than the previous attempt.’ Robert leant forwards and caught Cawburn’s lapels. ‘Do I make myself clear?’
He let Cawburn go.
‘Nothing happened between Sophie and me. I had intended to wait until we were married. It was going to live in my mind as perfection itself.’ Cawburn wiped his hand across his mouth. ‘Now, she will live for ever in my memory as the one who thankfully got away. We would not have suited. Her golden curls blinded me and I mistook her lively manner for a pleasant disposition.’
‘You will keep a civil tongue in your head. Particularly in a public place.’ Robert resisted the primitive urge to smash Cawburn’s head in. How dare he seek to blacken Henri’s name in that way! It only served to show that Cawburn had no scruples.
Cawburn stood, swayed slightly and gestured to the innkeeper. ‘I require a private parlour. This gentleman is paying. When the women emerge from upstairs, kindly usher them there. Then we shall see who is right.’
The innkeeper tossed Robert a questioning glance. Robert nodded and handed the innkeeper a gold coin. The innkeeper led the way to a well-appointed back room where a low wood fire burned. The room would do. Robert allowed Cawburn in before he blocked the entrance.
‘Your private parlour, Cawburn,’ Robert said, bowing low. ‘What do you think Miss Ravel will say? How will she tell this tale?’
‘Do not try to change the subject, Montemorcy.’ Cawburn trailed his finger along the edge of a table and inspected it for dust. ‘Did you or did you not make love to my cousin?’
‘It is none of your business.’
‘I will take that as a yes.’
Robert finally lost control over his temper. He reached back and landed a punch square on Cawburn’s chin. The man crumpled to the floor. ‘You ought to hold your cousin in higher regard.’
‘I do hold Henrietta in high regard.’
‘Enough to know that she hates the name Henrietta?’
Cawburn fingered his chin. ‘You will regret that. Henrietta always takes my side. You will have lost her.’
‘Fairly hard to lose what I never had.’ Even as he said the words, Robert knew he would fight for her and her right to live her life how she wished it—and make damn sure he was going to be in that life.
* * *
‘God’s nightgown, Sebastian! What happened to your face?’ Henri asked, coming into the private parlour. The pair were seated at opposite ends of the room, glaring at each other. Robert appeared as she left him, but Sebastian was sporting a rather large swelling just below his right eye.
‘He encountered my fist,’ Robert said, rising to his feet. His face was far more shuttered than she had seen it. ‘But I believe we understand each other now.’
Henri’s heart sank. After all her work with Sophie, he wouldn’t listen to the truth. He’d hit Sebastian because of Sophie. He was going to act the same way as he’d done yesterday—leaping to conclusions and expecting everyone to ag
ree with them. The pain in her head threatened to become a full-blown headache.
‘Henri, he hit me,’ Sebastian said with a petulant pout.
‘I dare say you deserved it.’ She tapped her boot on the ground. ‘It can go with the other lumps on your head.’
‘You know about those.’ Sebastian winced and gingerly felt the top of his head. ‘Why did she have to tell you about those? It is bad enough to have been bested by him, but by a mere slip of a girl.’
‘Tell you about what?’ Robert sat up. ‘What did Sophie do to you, Cawburn? How did she best you?’
‘Hit me on the head with a frying pan,’ Sebastian admitted, making a face. ‘The little hell-cat will get her come-uppance. Nobody does that to me!’
Robert’s face froze, but Henri fancied that he was struggling to keep a straight face. She bit her lip and hoped. Surely now Robert would listen to Sophie before he started publishing the banns.
‘I have brought Sophie down, Robert. And the missing frying pan. She will explain all. It is really quite simple. Pay attention, as you have a tendency to overcomplicate.’ Henri grabbed Sophie by the hand and led her into the room.
‘Sophie! Your stepmother will be delighted to see you when we get back to the New Lodge.’
Robert opened his arms, but Sophie held back, clinging to Henri’s hand like a limpet.
‘Sophie, remember what we spoke about. It must come from you, not me. The whole truth.’ Henri tried gently to prise her fingers away. Sophie was going to have to do this bit on her own.
‘Henri, you promised to be my ally,’ Sophie whispered. ‘I might need you to say the words.’
Henri gave the young woman a little push into the centre of the room. It was Sophie’s turn to stand up for what she wanted. ‘You must, Sophie. Tell your guardian precisely what you do and do not want. He is far from a mind reader. He needs to hear your words. He needs to know how you fought to protect your honour. Without embellishment.’
‘I have no wish to marry Lord Cawburn, if you please, Robert.’ Sophie moved away from Henri and stood in the centre of the small room. Although she looked young and vulnerable, her voice did not waver and her back remained straight and proud. Henri nodded. Sophie was using the exact form of words they had agreed. She told the whole story from beginning to end. Robert lifted his eyebrow once or twice when she mentioned how she had tricked Henri and then how she had used Henri’s suggestion of hitting him over the head with a frying pan.
‘I do not believe even after today there is any cause for me to marry him,’ Sophie finished, clasping her hands on her chin as Henri had practised with her. ‘Lord Cawburn has done nothing to dishonour me. As for a partner to go through life with, Lord Cawburn is far from ideal. I believe I can do better, much better, and Lord Cawburn deserves someone who will love him for the man he is.’
The room seemed to hold its breath, but then Robert burst out laughing.
‘I wish I could have seen Cawburn’s face when you hit him. Thank you for telling me the truth,’ Robert said. ‘Ultimately I want you to be happy. Your friends and family will stand by you. And hopefully you have learnt your lesson. And, Thorndike, that was a totally unnecessary gesture you suggested at the end. Melodrama at its worst.’
Henri glared at him. He was supposed to be moved to tears, but the situation amused him. ‘Are you accusing me of interfering? You never behave how you’re supposed to!’
‘It was Sophie’s recital of the truth that swayed me, not the gesture. I saw you make a motion to Sophie to bring her hands up. I’d have hoped that you thought better of me than to have to be swayed by play-acting. I wanted the truth and Sophie spoke it.’
Henri’s insides ached. Play-acting. Perhaps it was, but it was in a good cause. And he was laughing at her efforts. ‘I…I…wanted to help. Details are important.’
‘And you did—by telling Sophie to always carry a frying pan!’ His eyes softened. ‘Thankfully she is not afraid to use it. And there is the evidence of Mrs Mumps. The only person who should be frightened about his reputation is Lord Cawburn.’
‘Do you mean that, truly?’ Sophie’s face broke out into a wreath of smiles. ‘I’m not sure I want a Season, either. Far too many rules. I’m beginning to love the country.’
‘With your ability to wield a frying pan, Miss Ravel, I do not believe anyone will trouble you if you change your mind about London,’ Sebastian said. His face became wreathed in schoolboy innocence, the sort of look that Sebastian used when he was up to something. ‘Now, Henrietta, sweet cousin, what are we going to do about your predicament?’
‘Sebastian, are you going to tell me why Robert hit you?’ Henri put her hand on her hip and attempted to turn the conversation away from her so-called predicament. ‘What did you do to annoy him?’
‘Henrietta, I am wise to your tricks. I requested this parlour not for Miss Ravel’s convenience, but to spare your blushes. You may come down from your high horse and speak civilly to me if you want to keep your present lifestyle. Things are going to change.’
Henri took a step backwards. She glanced between Sebastian and Robert. Robert shook his head. And it crashed over her. Sebastian had guessed. He knew what she’d done.
‘I explained this before, Cawburn,’ Robert said, moving over towards her. ‘Your blackmailing days are over. Lady Thorndike will be marrying me, if it comes to it.’
Chapter Seventeen
Henri stared at Robert. Marrying him?
A pulse of warmth leapt through her at the thought of being his wife, but she ruthlessly squashed it. She was not going to marry anyone. She wanted his friendship, not his hand in marriage, not if he didn’t love her. It was all decided. They were intimate friends. He hadn’t asked her first. He’d waited until Sebastian forced the issue. She wasn’t about to marry anyone because someone else proclaimed it necessary. Robert had to want to marry her, and Robert had proudly proclaimed that he wasn’t in the marriage market.
‘As jokes go, Mr Montemorcy, this is a pretty poor one. I don’t need your protection from my cousin.’ Henri crossed her arms and regarded Robert through a narrow gaze. They had agreed last night—intimate friendship, not marriage. She refused to become someone’s wife because society dictated. It had to be because Robert wanted to marry her. And he didn’t. ‘You have not asked me, nor have I accepted. This fustian nonsense must cease. Someone might get the wrong idea.’
‘As head of the family, I accept on your behalf, Henrietta,’ Sebastian said, coming over to her and putting an arm about her shoulders. The gesture was designed to hold her in place rather than seek comfort. Henri shrugged several times, but his grip only tightened. ‘I was reasonably pleased that Montemorcy has decided to do the decent thing without too much persuasion. That you are far worse than Miss Ravel is self-evident. However, I’m willing to be persuaded otherwise if I have made a mistake.’
The back of Henri’s neck prickled a warning. Sebastian’s easygoing demeanour had vanished and in its place she saw controlled fury. Persuasion was a euphemism for money.
‘What do you want, cousin?’ Henri tried to make her voice sound carefree. Sebastian was seeking to unnerve her, that was all. He wouldn’t truly demand money to keep his silence. He had his code. Surely he hadn’t sunk that low? Robert had to understand that he didn’t need to sacrifice himself for her good name. ‘I’d have thought he’d be the last person in the world you would like me to marry.’
‘Did you think, sweet cousin, that I can’t recognise a woman who has been well-loved?’
Before she could move, Sebastian lunged forwards, caught her chin between his forefinger and thumb and held her face steady. Henri forced herself not to flinch or look away and meet his searching gaze with calm fortitude. Above everything else, she had to stop Robert from making a sacrifice that they’d both regret. She couldn’t bear the thought of him resenting being forced into marriage, of losing him slowly inch by precious inch because he had been forced. If Robert married her, she wanted it to be
for love.
‘Has drink completely addled your mind, Sebastian?’
‘Even now, you wear a glow that was not there when I left yesterday morning.’ Sebastian gave a menacing glance towards where Robert stood. ‘Doesn’t she look truly exquisite, Montemorcy? A tasty morsel?’
‘You will keep a civil tongue in your head!’ Robert ground out. ‘There are ladies present.’
‘I do beg your pardon, Miss Ravel,’ Sebastian said with heavy irony. ‘Henrietta Maria, answer the question. Did you spend last night alone?’
‘That, Sebastian, is none of your business!’ Henri gasped, wrenching her chin away as anger surged through her. Sebastian had to be made to understand that if he persisted in this stupid jape, he would be making her life a misery. ‘You have no right! Stop trying to excuse your bad behaviour!’
Robert, to her annoyance, cleared his throat, but she refused to look at him. Who was he simply to announce that they were going to get married without asking her? She wasn’t some parcel to be passed around. There was a difference between a loving marriage and a forced one. She knew the difference. She refused to have a one-sided love match. She’d seen how her mother hadn’t coped and how the anger and resentment had driven her father away.
Sebastian blew on his fingernails. ‘I am, for all you like to forget it, the head of our family. It is my business when my cousin decides to recklessly endanger her reputation.’
‘That is rich coming from…from a confirmed fornicator.’ Henri crossed her arms and refused to look at Robert. If Robert had wanted to marry her, he had had ample opportunity to ask her. All this morning in the carriage. She would have refused without question, but it would have been out in the open. She didn’t want to have a husband because society dictated that she had to have one. She didn’t want a husband at all. She wanted a friend and…a lover. She wanted someone who would be there for her always and who thought she was special.
Instead he was being forced into it by Sebastian of all people. Blackmailed. Henri’s blood ran cold. Sebastian’s debts. He didn’t care who paid as long as it wasn’t him.
To Marry A Matchmaker (Historical Romance) Page 23
