by Mary Nichols
‘Shall I take Annie with me? She would be company for Lady Emma, look after her, like.’
‘Good idea, if Mrs Granger can spare her.’
They went into the house together. Mrs Granger, who was very fond of Miss Draper and as worried as anyone when she disappeared, was glad to hear she was safe and agreed to let Mrs Yates go with Joe. Alex beckoned Lizzie. ‘I am going up to change my clothes, before meeting the company,’ he said. ‘Will you go and tell Mrs Summers that I am back and ask her to come to my room. Say it quietly so no one else hears. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, my lord.’
He went through to the front of the house and crept past the drawing room, where he could hear the sound of voices, and up the stairs to his room. He had stripped off his coat, waistcoat and shirt and was pulling on a fresh pair of riding breeches when he heard light footsteps and a knock on his door. He hastily buttoned them and went to admit his aunt.
She tumbled breathlessly into the room. ‘Alex, wherever have you been all this time? Have you found her?’
‘Yes.’ He fetched a clean shirt from the chest and pulled it over his head.
‘Thank the good Lord for that. Where is she?’
‘In Kendal. Safe for the moment.’
‘Sir George is here with Emma’s mother and I just don’t know what to say to them. I told them she was out visiting, but I do not think they believed me. I have given them nuncheon and tea and cakes and endured his lordship going on and on about how upset his wife was at not finding her daughter waiting to greet her, pretending to be concerned for her welfare and saying her fiancé is out of his mind with grief that something dreadful has befallen her at the hands of her abductors. It made me shiver, I can tell you. As for Marianne, she is nothing like the bustling, cheerful woman I used to know.
‘When they first arrived I took her up to my room to refresh herself and she told me that they had had no response to the advertisement in the newspapers offering a reward for the return of Emma and the apprehending of her kidnapper, but then one morning about a week ago Lord Bentwater had come to them, waving a letter and crowing that she had been found. The letter gave this address and included a very good likeness of Emma. Someone had sketched her and it is my belief—’
‘James Griggs!’
‘Yes, at the picnic. I was going to tell you I had seen him and Lord Bentwater together at the ball, but you were asleep and worn out, so I did not disturb you. I have had to pretend I am not acquainted with Marianne, that we have never met before today. She was most insistent on that—I think she is afraid that if her husband should find out she sent Emma here, he will beat her—but it means that it is all down to you. I am sorry, Alex. None of this is your fault.’
He smiled. ‘I have broad shoulders, Aunt.’
‘What are we going to do? I long to reunite Marianne with her daughter, but I don’t want to hand her over to her stepfather for him to dispose of, like a horse he has tired of.’
‘You won’t have to. Emma has agreed to marry me.’
‘I am glad of that, of course I am, but how will that help?’
‘I am going to offer to buy Sir George’s vouchers off Bentwater, then he will have no hold over him.’
‘Do you think he will agree?’
‘I do not know, I hope so.’ He finished dressing, put on his riding boots, tweaked his cravat and ran a brush through his hair. ‘I am going to take Bonny. Poor Salamanca has had a hard day.’
‘You are going now?’
Alex smiled and bent to kiss her cheek. ‘No time like the present.’
‘Please speak to our visitors before you go. I am past knowing what to say to them. They are making no shift to leave and I am sure they expect me to ask them to stay.’
‘Then you had better do that.’ He picked up his hat and followed his aunt down to the drawing room. Sir George was sitting in a wing chair, a glass of wine at his elbow, looking very much at home. His wife, whom Alex had never met, was a strikingly handsome woman, or would have been if she had not been so pale. Even her lips had little colour. Her brow was creased with worry and her eyes were dull; it was as if the life had been drained out of her.
Amelia forced a smile. ‘Sir George, I believe you are acquainted with my nephew, Viscount Malvers.’
Sir George got to his feet, but he did not offer his hand. ‘Malvers.’
Alex bowed. ‘Sir George.’
‘May I present my wife, Lady Tasker.’
Alex bowed low over her hand. ‘My lady, your obedient.’
She smiled wanly. ‘My lord.’
‘Where is my stepdaughter?’ Sir George demanded, resuming his seat.
‘She is visiting friends—did my aunt not tell you? I believe she may stay the night with them.’
‘Who are these friends? Are they to be trusted?’
‘Oh, absolutely. If you will excuse me, I have an important meeting to go to. I shall hope to see you later.’
‘It’s a dashed smoky do,’ Sir George grumbled. ‘Anyone would think you are deliberately keeping Emma from us. I cannot think why. My wife is out of her mind with worry that her cherished daughter has been cruelly treated.’
‘I can reassure you on that point, Sir George. She is also cherished by everyone here, from my aunt and myself down to the scullery maid and the potboy. We would not, nor will we, let any harm come to her, you have my word on it. Now, please excuse me, I must go.’ He bowed to her ladyship, winked at his aunt and left them, glad to escape.
He found Lord Bentwater at the Unicorn playing cards with James Griggs and two gentlemen he did not know. Impatient as he was to have his business over and done with, he knew he must not rush it. He ordered a glass of ale and strolled over to the card players with it in his hand. Bentwater had a pile of coins at his elbow, James a slightly smaller one and the two strangers nothing at all and they were scowling.
‘Evening, Malvers,’ James said. ‘We missed you at the ball last night. What happened to you?’
‘I had a lot of clearing up to do after the regatta, men to pay, accounts to make up. Always best to get these things done promptly, I always say.’
‘You missed a grand occasion. Miss Pettifer was quite put out you were not there. I believe you are acquainted with Lord Bentwater.’ He waved a hand at him.
‘We have met.’
Bentwater grunted. ‘What do you want, Malvers?’
‘What makes you think I want anything?’
‘Have you come to tell me where I might find my fiancée?’
‘No. How could I? I am not acquainted with your fiancée.’
‘I say, Malvers, that’s a whisker,’ James said. ‘You know very well who Miss Draper is.’
‘Oh, you mean my aunt’s one-time companion. She has left her for pastures new. And I do not care to be called a liar.’
Bentwater threw down his cards and turned to the man on his right. ‘Salter, this is the man who abducted my future wife. Arrest him now and we can get on with our game in peace.’
‘Can’t do that, m’lord, not without speaking to the lady herself,’ the man said. ‘Have to have proof that she was kidnapped, d’you see? And by this gentleman.’
‘I am telling you she was. She would never willingly have left a home where she was loved and cosseted, her every whim granted. Dammit, man, do your duty.’
‘All in good time, m’lord, all in good time. We have to find the lady first.’
‘He knows where she is.’ He indicated Alex. ‘Make him tell you.’
‘Are you going to tell us?’ the man asked.
‘Will you give her up?’ Alex ignored the Runner and addressed Bentwater.
‘Certainly not. I do not see why I should.’
‘I see.’ He was very calm. ‘Now, can it be because you have a genuine regard for the lady or because Sir George Tasker owes you twenty thousand pounds and has offered his stepdaughter in lieu?’ He heard James gasp, but ignored him.
‘What sort of Banbury tale
is that?’
‘I think you know. I was there when you agreed to it. And so was Mr Maddox. He will testify to it.’
‘We have broken no law. It is a private matter between me and Sir George. It is you who have broken the law by abducting her, taking her from the bosom of her family and leaving her poor mother to weep, not to mention depriving me of my bride.’
Alex turned to the man called Salter, whom he had assumed to be the most senior of the Bow Street Runners. ‘What would happen if the lady herself refused to agree to such an arrangement?’
‘She did agree,’ Bentwater put in triumphantly. ‘But it makes no odds; as a dutiful daughter she is bound to be guided by her parents on such matters. You are wasting your time, Malvers.’
‘I do not think so. Perhaps there is a way out for all concerned. I will purchase those vouchers off you in return for your giving up this nonsense about being betrothed to her.’
‘Why? Want her for yourself, do you?’
‘That is for me and the lady to decide. What do you say to my offer? Twenty-five thousand, that’s five more than Sir George owes you.’
‘Fifty.’
‘Thirty.’
‘Forty.’
‘Thirty-five.’ Alex paused. ‘Think about it, my lord. She is unlikely to be a compliant wife. In truth, I know she is very contrary and self-willed. Do you really want the bother of such a one?’
‘I can vouch for that,’ James said suddenly. ‘Bad-tempered chit, and not above kicking out. I should take the money and be thankful.’
Alex glared at him.
‘I should take it, my lord,’ Salter put in, all reasonableness. ‘A gambling debt is not recoverable in law. Oh, I know that is why it is called a debt of honour, but it would be unwise to insist on the terms Viscount Malvers has just outlined. You might have trouble proving your case if you persist in saying she was kidnapped…’
‘She was. How else did she get up here?’
‘Perhaps she had help, my lord,’ the Runner said. ‘That does not mean she was forced. Until I have spoken to her, I make no judgement.’
‘Oh, very well. There’s plenty more fish in the sea.’
‘Good.’ Alex turned to the others at the table. ‘You will bear witness that I have offered thirty-five thousand for Sir George’s vouchers and Lord Bentwater has accepted.’
‘Aye,’ the Runners said in unison.
‘Will you also witness the handing over of the money and the vouchers? We can do it tomorrow as soon as the bank opens.’
They agreed and he left them to return to Highhead Hall. It was going to be a long night and he was half-inclined to go to Kendal and spend it with Emma, but he knew she would not allow that. Mrs Yates would look after her and, with Joe also on watch, he could rest easy that nothing would happen to her.
He was thankful that Sir George and Lady Tasker had retired when he arrived; he would not have to answer any more of their questions. The next time he saw them he hoped to be able to hand over the vouchers. He would ask nothing in return except Emma’s hand in marriage. Thirty-five thousand pounds was going to take almost all he had in ready money, but he did not care; Emma was worth every farthing of it.
He imagined her in that hotel room, waiting for him, trusting him to save her. Oh, to see the look on her face when he told her all was well and they could be married just as soon as she gave the word. He hoped it would be soon. Their tumble on the bed earlier that day had given him a foretaste of what was to come and he could not wait to make her his wife in fact as well as name.
He had his boots in his hand and was creeping towards his bedroom, when his aunt’s door opened and she came down the corridor towards him in a dressing gown, her hair in a long plait down her back. ‘Well?’ she whispered.
He ushered her into his room and shut the door. ‘He accepted and in front of witnesses and tomorrow those witnesses will stand by when the exchange is made. We are home and dry, Aunt. Home and dry.’
‘I shall believe that when I see Emma with her mother, and Sir George in a frame of mind to accept the situation. Do not count your chickens, Alex.’
‘What can he do? He has been exposed for the charlatan he is. Now go back to bed, Aunt. Tomorrow I will have those vouchers and then I will go and fetch Emma.’
He was up early the next morning, too anxious to stay in bed, too wound up to eat breakfast. It was too early to go to the bank, so he went out to talk to the men about his plans. ‘I have to go back to Norfolk very soon,’ he told them. ‘But you will not be forgotten. The outbuildings here will become workshops. The profit we made from the regatta will be used to set you up in businesses according to your talents, or to help you look for employment. Highhead Hall will become a school for your children. A head teacher will be appointed, and a manager to deal with all the other concerns, since I cannot split myself in two. Any problems you have, go to him. Mrs Summers has agreed to stay as housekeeper. When I come back for next year’s Windermere Regatta, I hope to see you all thriving.’
They cheered him as he set off on Salamanca for the bank and his appointment with Lord Bentwater.
Maddox met him outside the door. ‘Heard you might need me,’ he said.
‘I might. I am going to buy those vouchers off Bentwater. I want you to see fair play.’
‘If anything about that man can be called fair. What’s the deal?’
‘Thirty-five thousand for the vouchers and he drops all claim to Emma.’
Jeremy whistled. ‘He will be getting more than a fair profit.’
‘She is worth it. But you do not need to tell her. I have a feeling she might not like it.’
‘The devil she won’t.’ Maddox laughed, as Bentwater turned up, flanked by the two Runners. Of James there was no sign. ‘You are simply transferring her mortification from Lord B. to your good self.’
‘I shall have to pretend Sir George relented and succumbed to my persuasive powers and her mother’s entreaties.’
They went into the bank; in spite of the banker’s advice to Alex to think carefully before parting with his money, he was determined to go ahead and the transaction was completed and the papers signed. Having handed over a money draft for the requisite amount, Alex picked up the vouchers and put them safely in the pocket of his coat. Then he bowed to everyone and rode back to Highhead Hall, poorer by thirty-five thousand pounds, but he still thought he had a bargain.
Sir George was enjoying a very late and very hearty breakfast. His wife was sitting over a cup of tea and a piece of toast, which she was making no pretence of eating.
‘There you are, Malvers, I hope you have had time since we last spoke to come to your senses.’
‘I was never without them.’ He flung the vouchers on the table, scattering them everywhere. ‘These are yours, I believe.’
Lady Tasker gasped. Sir George put down his knife and fork and gathered them up. ‘Where did you get them?’
‘I think you know where. Please confirm they are signed by you.’
Sir George examined one or two and then laughed. ‘Forgeries. Not my signature.’
Alex stared at him, unsure whether to believe him or not. ‘Look at them properly. Are you saying these are not gambling vouchers issued by you?’
‘They are not. Whoever sold them to you has gulled you into parting with your money. How much did they cost you?’
Alex declined to answer. He picked one up and showed it to Lady Tasker. ‘Is this your husband’s hand, my lady?’
‘It looks very like it,’ she murmured. ‘But I am not sure…’
‘Of course you are sure, woman. You know I never write my name in that florid style. You have been duped, my lord.’ He began to laugh; he laughed so much he could not speak. His wife began to cry and Alex swore. He swore long and hard. Then he gathered up the vouchers and rode hell for leather back to Ambleside. But the bird had flown.
Emma was on the look out for Alex returning. She had been so glad of Annie’s company and the two women h
ad talked long into the night, but she had fallen asleep at last, secure in the knowledge that Joe Bland was keeping watch. It was typical of Alex to make sure her night was undisturbed, but now it was day again and she was dressed and sitting at the window, eagerly anticipating her lover’s return. Had he met her stepfather? What had they said to each other? Had he seen Mama? Oh, if only he would come. She could not sit still and paced the room.
‘My lady, do calm yourself,’ Annie said. ‘He will come. Whatever he had to do must have taken longer than he anticipated.’
‘Oh, I hope you are right. I should die if any ill has befallen him. I do not trust Lord Bentwater, or my stepfather.’
‘Shall I go and fetch you a drink? It might make you feel calmer?’
‘Yes, please.’
Annie left the room and went downstairs where she encountered Joe, sitting in the parlour enjoying a quart of ale. She ordered the hot chocolate for Emma and chatted to Joe while she waited for it to be prepared. They heard a coach drawing up outside, but, knowing they had the carriage, they knew it could not be Viscount Malvers who would arrive on horseback. They hardly looked up as a man hurried in and spoke to the innkeeper.
‘Fresh horses, mine host,’ he ordered. ‘As fast as you like. I am in a devilish hurry. And a quart of your best ale while it is being done.’ He turned idly to survey the people in the parlour: a man puffing on a pipe in the corner, two men arguing about the cost of wool in another, and a man and a woman sitting by the window. He had seen them before. Unless his eyes deceived him, they had come from Highhead Hall. He grinned and watched them and when a cup of cocoa was handed to the woman and she went upstairs with it, he followed.
‘Here you are, my lady, you drink that while it’s nice and hot.’
Emma stopped her pacing and took the cup from Annie and then looked towards the door as it was opened again, expecting it to be Alex. But the man who walked into the room was Lord Bentwater. She gave a little cry and started back in such an agitated state, she spilled the drink all down her gown.
