Restoring the Earl's Honour: Sweet and Clean Regency Romance (His Majesty's Hounds Book 17)

by Arietta Richmond

  As the footmen hauled Cardston off into the house, Sin arranged for the care of his horse, and then stood a moment, attempting to straighten his somewhat dishevelled appearance before facing the others. He knew, deep within himself, that the moment had come – he could not see a way that the next hour could pass, without him admitting the truth of that night, six years before, when Martin Stafford had died. Marion deserved to know the truth, as did the Duke – what had been a secret for the sake of his family’s honour had become a barrier to healing of the heart for people he had come to care for. Somehow, he needed to find a way to restore his family’s honour, to keep them safe, and yet to give these people the truth. He could not yet see a way to do so, but he must try.

  As tidied as was possible without mirror or valet, he went inside, following the footman who had waited for him. The house was large, quietly elegant in a way that spoke of generations of carefully managed wealth and excellent taste. He was shown to a large parlour, where the Duke and Duchess, and Lady Scartwick, waited.

  “Have a seat, Hungerwood – and perhaps a brandy? I have asked the men to hold Cardston in the small parlour, so that we might discuss what happened, before I speak to him. But before anything else is said, I must give you my heartfelt thanks for saving my grandson today. I do not think that I could have borne the pain if I had lost him too.”

  Everything that Sin had heard of this man was good – his previous wife had been a very unpleasant woman, but the Duke had always been spoken of as both kind and honourable. He took the offered brandy, and wondered exactly how to respond to the Duke’s words.

  In the end, he chose simple honesty.

  “Thank you, Your Grace. But I could have done nothing less. Having seen Cardston scoop him up and run, the only honourable thing to do was make chase.”

  The Duke nodded, then turned to Lady Scartwick.

  “Marion, my dear, do you know anything of why Lord Frederick might have wished to kidnap Daniel? Is this to do with me? Or with you? Or something else incomprehensible?”

  Lady Scartwick paled at his words, and Sin felt an intense desire to go to her and comfort her in some way. He took a large sip of his brandy, and forced himself to stay as he was. Awaiting her answer.

  “I… I believe that it is because of me that Cardston has done this. Exactly what he hoped to gain, I do not know, but he has been… unpleasantly… pursuing me this last month and more, since we came to London. You will remember what I told you, when you first discovered who I was, and who Daniel was, of the weeks before and after Martin’s death. Cardston was one of the worst then – the most insistent in pursuing me, in believing that I was a lightskirt who could be taken at will. When we returned to London this year, he approached me, and made… indecent… although politely phrased, suggestions. He, to be very blunt, wanted me. And he had the gall to suggest that I should be grateful, especially as he was ‘willing to offer me marriage, rather than just take me as a mistress’. I told him that I did not wish to marry at that time, and even if I had wished to, that he would never have been considered.”

  The Duke’s face had flushed with emotion, and his hands had closed to fists as Lady Scartwick spoke.

  “The man is obviously the worst kind of cad!”

  “He is. He did not take my refusal as serious. He continued to press me, at most Balls we attended, if I was unwise enough to allow him to get near me. I knew that he was becoming more and more angry with me, but I never thought that he would do something quite so mad as this!”

  “Indeed, mad is, I believe, the correct word here,” the Duke turned to Sin, “and you, Hungerwood, how came you to be in place to carry out such a dramatic rescue?”

  “Your Grace, I ride in the Park each morning, and have often seen your party from a distance – so I was aware of the identity of the boy. As I rode along my usual path this morning, through the trees along the stream, I saw, from the distance, a man among the trees. It caught my eye as unusual, and, as I watched, he leapt out, when the Nanny’s back was turned as she chased after her bonnet, scooped up the child, and ran. I knew that could not be right, so I gave chase. I did not know his identity, until the moment just before I punched him, as the carriage careered along. But I do remember him, from… before I left England. It is as Lady Scartwick says. He was amongst the worst of the group who went about with Martin, and he envied Martin’s relationship with Lady Scartwick.”

  “I see. It is best, then, that we go and question the man, with respect to his reasons for his actions today.”

  “I would come with you – not that I ever wish to see that man’s face again, but I must understand why he kidnapped my son.”

  The Duke looked at Lady Scartwick, concern on his face.

  “Are you sure, Marion? If he has been so impertinent to you, so utterly rude, are you certain that you wish to be exposed to whatever he says now?”

  “I am quite sure. I must know. There is far too much of what happened back then, of what happened when Martin died, that I do not know – and the not knowing haunts me, always.”

  The Duchess quietly took Marion’s hand, her expression kind and caring. At Lady Scartwick’s answer to the Duke, Sin felt the urge, again, to tell them the truth. But first, perhaps, hearing what Cardston had to say would be best. They rose, and the Duke led them to the small parlour where Cardston was being held. As they stepped through the door, Cardston looked at them, his face contorted with anger.

  “Release me! How dare you hold me!”

  “You will not be released, and you are a fool to even think that I might allow it. When you have attempted to abscond with my grandson, my heir, why would you expect any forgiveness from me?”

  “You are a fool, just like your son was, taken in by that commoner fancy piece’s pretty face. How did she convince you that he married her? A fine set of lies that is – the child is probably not even his! And you,” Cardston almost spat the words in Sin’s direction, “you’ve done a fine job of lying too, but I can’t see why you’ve taken against me now – were we not all of the same friendship, back then? But then, you’re a fool – I should have understood that. Any man who takes on his brother’s dishonour, and lets the world destroy his life for it, is as likely to do anything, isn’t he?”

  Sin swallowed hard. So Cardston knew.

  The Duke turned to Sin, a look of confusion on his face.

  “Hungerwood, what is he raving about? What lies does he speak of, and what is this of your brother’s dishonour? And what has that to do with what he did today?”

  “He speaks of the night of your son’s death, Your Grace. Although I was never truly this man’s friend – an acquaintance, yes, but not a friend – for even then, his attitudes and manner were a bit more than I could stomach, on many occasions.”

  “More lies – you are obviously quite mad, Hungerwood.”

  Cardston’s voice was shrill, and his eyes wild. Sin sighed – there was nothing for it but to relate the whole sordid tale, and risk what might come to his family. He could not allow this madness to continue.

  “Perhaps I was mad, back then, to do what I did – but I saw only the threat to my family – I did not realise that I would ever be in the position I am today. Your Grace, I am quite certain that you will have heard every rumour. That you will have been told that I stood Second to Sinclair, on that fateful night, and that, as Sinclair did, once it was clear that Martin was dead, I fled the country. I must tell you now that only part of that is true.”

  Behind him, he heard a small gasp from Lady Scartwick, echoed by one from the Duchess. The Duke looked at him steadily a moment before speaking.

  “Then tell me what is true, and what is not. I would not have one detail of my son’s last hours lost to me.”

  Cardston made a derisive noise, mocking, as if glad that someone else was the focus of the Duke’s attention at that point. Sin ignored him.

  “Your Grace, what I am about to tell you has hitherto, as far as I know, only been known by my fa
mily – and even that only recently. Initially, only my brother and I knew. On the night of the duel, my brother Hugh, then the heir to the title, was the man who was second to Sinclair. I was present, and standing not far from him. We were quite alike to look at, and in the darkness before the dawn, an onlooker could easily mistake us. My brother was, I am sad to say, a rabble rousing, hot headed fool,” Cardston laughed raucously and Sin ignored him again, “I had tried to talk him out of being Second, but he had insisted, even urging Sinclair on, in a way that I could not like. But when the moment came, and I saw Martin’s life fade before me, I realised that I had only one choice. If it was known that Hugh had been Second, had encouraged the duel, our family’s honour would have been damaged beyond redemption. He was the heir, and I knew that society might not accept him as Earl, when the time came, if he had dishonour so sordid attached to him.”

  The Duke looked at him calmly, listening without apparent judgement, and Sin was grateful.

  “So, Hungerwood, what did you do?”

  “I believe you will already have deduced that, Your Grace. I stepped in front of Hugh, pushing him back, and pretending that I had been Second. Dishonour of a second son would not hurt the family anywhere near as much as dishonour of the heir. Hugh let me do it – I think that, in that moment, he realised why it was necessary. Within days, both I and Sinclair had left the country. Only he and Hugh knew the truth for certain. And now, both of them are dead. I never expected to return to England, never expected to bear the title. But now that I do, I must face the consequences of that decision, every day.”

  Cardston spoke, quietly this time, and it was all the more chilling for it.

  “But I knew. As soon as I saw you again, when you returned, I knew. For whilst the two of you were alike, you were not identical. You were a fool to throw your life away for your brother – for he did not value it. I’ve watched you, since your return, trying so hard to please them all, while they treat you coldly, barely better than the cut direct. And it wasn’t worth it in the end, was it? For Hugh went and died with dishonour himself, making all your effort for nothing. I don’t know why you bothered to interfere today – or do you want Martin’s strumpet for yourself?”

  Sin stepped forward and slapped Cardston across the face, hard. The man fell silent with a whimper.

  “You will not speak of my daughter-in-law like that again.” The Duke’s voice was glacially cold. “But… I still do not entirely see why you kidnapped my grandson?”

  Cardston glared at everyone.

  “Well, it seemed to me that, if she wouldn’t agree to wed me, bringing that nice dowry its rumoured you’ve settled upon her, willingly, then I needed to provide a reason to… convince… her to agree. The boy suited that purpose admirably. For she would do anything to ensure his safety, as would you. Had Hungerwood not intervened, you would have received a note tomorrow morning, laying out my requirements.”

  Sin looked at the man in shock – Cardston must be mad, to think that a woman would marry him under such conditions – yet he seemed to be speaking the truth, as he saw it.

  The Duke was silent a moment, then fixed Cardston with a glare that would make any sane man quail.

  “I see. You have just, I believe, admitted to kidnapping with the intent to blackmail, in front of multiple witnesses. I could see you charged, and your disgrace dragged before the view of everyone – but I believe a better solution would be for you to simply disappear. It seems fitting that you suddenly discover a deep need to remove to the Americas and seek your fortune there. I will arrange your passage on a ship of good repute – one where the crew cannot be bribed… and I will even be so generous as to provide you some funds – to be handed to you once you have left the ship in America. If you ever attempt to set foot in England again, after that, you will rue the day that you were born.”

  Sin spoke into the silence that followed the Duke’s words, while Cardston was still gaping at them, shocked.

  “I believe that I can assist with both a suitable ship, and appropriate contacts in the Americas – in addition to whatever contacts you have yourself, Your Grace. Six years as a privateer has left me with some… unusual… connections.”

  The Duke nodded, and turned to the footmen who had stood silent, holding Cardston in place, throughout the entire exchange.

  “Take him, and lock him in the deepest, most secure cellar. Give him only what food and drink is required to keep him alive, and nothing more. And forget that you ever heard a word of what has been said here today.”

  “Yes, Your Grace. I will see to it.”

  They watched Cardston led away, only then coming out of his shocked silence to rail at them as he realised the truth of his fate. Only once he could no longer be heard did anyone move or speak.

  “I believe that we have much to discuss. But let us repair to the main parlour, and call for refreshments before we begin. I would be away from this room, for at present it echoes with Cardston’s foul words, even if only in my mind.”

  The Duchess looked at her husband as she spoke, and something seemed to pass between them. Beside her, Marion looked pale and very shaken. Her eyes sought Sin’s, and again, he felt the extreme urge to go to her, to hold her close. He did not move. After a moment, the Duke spoke, his tone sad.

  “You are correct, my dear Sylvia. I had hoped never to need to discuss that dreadful night again – but it seems that I must.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Once they had settled in the parlour, and tea and biscuits sat before them, the Duke looked at Lord Hungerwood. Marion wondered what he was thinking. Her mind was still reeling from the events of the day, and from her reaction to Cardston’s vile attitudes. She had, due to her eavesdropping, had some weeks to come to terms with the fact that Lord Hungerwood was not the villain he had been painted as, with respect to Martin’s death – but the Duke had not had that benefit. Hungerwood seemed calm, but Marion could see the uncertainty in him, that tension which comes with expecting unpleasantness. She put her faith in what she knew of the Duke – the most unfailingly kind and fair-minded man she had ever met. His first words confirmed how right she was to trust him so.

  “Hungerwood, I must understand, must know all of it. You are telling me that it was your brother who incited the duel that took my son’s life, and that you took on your brother’s disgrace, for the sake of the good name of your family, accepting what seemed likely to be permanent exile?”

  “Yes, Your Grace. That is the heart of it.”

  “Then you have been done a grave disservice. It is obvious that you are far more honourable than a cad like Cardston could ever be – and all should know that. It is unconscionable that Cardston has been welcomed amongst the ton, whilst you have been barely tolerated.”

  “I would be delighted to have my honour proved to the ton – but how could that be achieved? For if I blacken my brother’s name, my family will be the worse for it, no matter what the circumstances now. Many would not believe me – they would claim that I spoke from self-interest, blaming a dead man who could not speak in his own defence.”

  The Duke regarded him, and shook his head.

  “I do not have an answer to that difficulty, much though it pains me to admit it.”

  Marion felt a rush of disappointment – to her, the Duke had always seemed capable of resolving almost any problem.

  “Surely there is a way? Some way to restore Lord Hungerwood’s honour in the eyes of the ton, without damaging his family in the process?”

  As the Duke shook his head, frustration clear in his expression, the Duchess spoke.

  “I have an idea. I believe that it is possible.” Three faces turned to her, each full of hope, tempered by the improbability of there being such a solution. “It will involve the assistance of quite a few of our trusted friends, in a way that we have used before. When we acted to change the ton’s perception of Lord Porthaven. Many of the same tactics will work in this case.”

  The Duke raised an eyebrow
at his wife.

  “My dear Sylvia, yet again, you surprise me. What is this manipulation of society’s perceptions that you refer to?”

  The Duchess flushed, which was such a rare occurrence that Marion was startled to see it, and then she set about explaining.

  “Well, Julian, it was before we met, so, of course, you were not aware of it. At that point, you were still rather a recluse… This could be a very long story, but I will attempt to summarise it effectively. The man who is now the Earl of Porthaven is Raphael Morton. He is one of the group of men often referred to as ‘His Majesty’s Hounds’ who served with my son during the wars, in France and Spain. He was, and still is, an inordinately successful merchant, following on from his father in that success. When the Prince Regent saw fit to have him granted a title, in recognition of his service to the crown, the ton did not respond well. There were nasty caricatures and worse. One of his businesses is an art gallery – and we used that as the starting point to changing the ton’s opinion, not only of him, but of the woman who is now his wife – a woman whose own family were the subject of a scandal.”

  “Fascinating my dear – how on earth did you overcome the prejudice and gossip which that combination of events would have created?”

  “We arranged an event at the gallery, and had every person of high rank of our close friendship attend. We made quite certain of the exact timing of their arrivals on the day, so that it presented a dazzling parade of important people, each showing obvious approval. Lord Setford even managed, somehow, to get the Prince Regent to make an appearance.”