When Love Sneaks In (The Montgomery Family & Friends Book 2)

by Vikki Vaught

  A crowd of men gathered at the beach at dawn. Gregory looked stony-eyed and determined. Sexton looked confident. Matthew placed a hand on his arm. “Please, say you’re sorry. This is ridiculous. I don’t want you harmed.”

  Gregory shrugged off his hand, and walked to his seconds. He chose twenty paces, and the seconds handed each of the men a pistol checked by both of their seconds.

  His brother and Sexton stood back to back and walked the twenty paces, turned and stared each other down.

  Boling called out, “One…two…three.”

  On the count of three, both men fired.

  Matthew watched in horror as Gregory fell to the ground.

  He rushed to him, the doctor on his heels.

  Blood bubbled from a hole in his brother’s chest, but at least it still moved.

  The doctor examined him. “We need to get him to his bed right away. The bullet is lodged inside. I cannot see how serious the wound is until I examine him further.”

  Sexton nonchalantly walked away as if on a morning stroll. Clearly, the bastard felt no remorse over shooting an eighteen-year-old boy. Between Matthew and Boling, they carried Gregory to the house and laid him on his bed.

  His brother moaned and opened his eyes. “What happened? My chest…it hurts like hell. Did I at least hit the bastard? Matthew, will…I…make it?”

  “You need to lie still so the doctor can examine you.” Wells hovered at the door. “Bring me brandy right now,” he demanded.

  Dr. Moore probed the wound. “I don’t believe any vital organs were hit.” He pulled out an instrument, then dug around. Gregory let out a blood-curdling scream and passed out. His heart thundered as the doctor continued to probe.

  At last Dr. Moore located the ball and removed it. He cleaned the wound and bandaged his brother’s shoulder. He looked at him. “He should be fine, as long as no putrefaction sets in. He’s a lucky young man. The bullet missed his heart by inches. Watch him for fever, and if any redness occurs, send for me. Change his bandages twice a day and no solid foods until at least forty-eight hours pass with no fever.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.” He shook his hand, then turned back to Gregory after telling Wells to escort the doctor out. He spent the day by his side. Helen checked on them several times throughout the day and offered to relieve him, but he refused. That evening Gregory developed a fever, and the wound became swollen and had angry red streaks running from it. Matthew sent for the doctor.

  Once Dr. Moore arrived, he examined his brother. “There are signs of putrefaction.” He mixed a poultice and treated the area with it. As he bandaged the wound, he continued, “Apply this mixture and replace the bandages every four hours. If he’s going to survive, this medicine needs to pull the poisons out. Keep bathing him in cool water to reduce the fever, and get as much liquid in him as possible. I shall return in the morning. Godspeed, my lord. It’s in His hands now.”

  After the doctor left, Helen entered. “Let me relieve you for a while. You’re clearly exhausted. If you don’t sleep you’ll end up ill.”

  He stood and wearily replied, “I’ll rest for a while. Send for me if there’s any change at all.”

  After four hours, he returned. Gregory became delirious and kept shouting out and trying to get out of bed. Matthew feared he would pull his stitches, so he tied him to the bed posts, while Helen bathed him with cool water and changed the poultice and bandages.

  For the next two days, Gregory remained delirious, and his fever climbed higher and higher. In the middle of the third night, Matthew fell to his knees. “Please, Lord. Save my brother. He’s too young to die.”

  He laid his head against the covers and wept, continuing his vigil for hours. At last, Gregory quit fighting and fell into a deep sleep. He touched his forehead, and it was cool.

  Thank you, God, his fever’s broken.

  Dr. Moore examined him the next morning. “Someone is watching out for this young man. He should be fine now that his fever is gone. The redness is going away and the wound is less swollen. Keep changing the bandages, and keep him off solid foods for another twenty-four hours. I’ll come by for the next few days to check on him.”

  Matthew grabbed the doctor’s hand and shook it. “Thank you, Doctor, for everything.” He handed the man fifty pounds. “You saved his life.”

  Dr. Moore tried to return the note. “This is too much. You’re the one who saved his life. At one point, I thought he would not make it. You never gave up. This young man owes his life to you. Hopefully, he’s learned a valuable lesson.”

  It took Gregory a fortnight to heal. Matthew and Jennings took care of all his personal needs. At first, he was quiet and calm. As he began to feel better, he grew restless and irritable. He prayed he’d learned his lesson, only time would tell.

  His friends kept Gregory entertained as he convalesced. Once he was up and about, he returned to his former jovial self. He and his friends began their carousing again, staying out until all hours of the night. Obviously, his brother had not learned his lesson. Matthew sighed. It was only a matter of time before he got in trouble again.

  CHAPTER 16

  Late August 1820

  Now that Gregory’s recovery was certain, everything settled down. Helen had accepted an invitation from Lady Ralston. When she arrived, the butler showed her into the drawing room. As she glanced around, she noticed the beautifully decorated space. The walls were painted deep coral with lovely cream crown molding. The upholstered furniture had plenty of plump cushions and looked comfortable. There was a cozy feel to the room, yet it did not take away from the elegance.

  A few minutes after she arrived, the marchioness entered and warmly greeted her. “Please sit so we can chat. I trust your brother-in-law is making a full recovery?”

  She accepted a cup of tea her hostess handed her. “Thank goodness. He’s a very fortunate young man—the bullet missed his heart by inches. I’m sorry he caused such a disturbance at your ball. I wasn’t sure you would want to further our acquaintance after that incident.”

  “I would never hold his behavior against you or your husband. To be quite honest, I have a younger brother who acts in a similar fashion. My parents are ready to wash their hands of him and his deplorable behavior. He games as well, and he even borrowed from moneylenders. And anyway, it only made my ball the most talked-of event in a long time.”

  “Your parents must worry a great deal. I know my husband does,” she stated.

  Lady Ralston offered her a plate of sweet treats, and she accepted a cream cake. “Your brother is the Duke of Sanderford, is he not? I remember you suffered the loss of a brother and your father several years ago. So sad for you and your family.” Her brows drew together in consternation. “Oh, dear, listen to me rattling along. I warn you, I tend to do that often.”

  Helen set her teacup on the table and smiled. “Actually, I find it charming. You have an astonishing memory.”

  As they sipped their tea, they continued their conversation. The marchioness regaled her with delightful antidotes regarding her children, then said, “I think I remember you have a younger sister as well.”

  “I do. Kathryn is an artist and presently attends the London Art Institute. She recently completed a portrait of my brother and his wife, and it’s magnificent. My husband and I plan to have her paint ours soon. You might consider having her do yours with your children.” She enjoyed having another woman to talk with. She’d missed that.

  Lady Ralston smiled. “We haven’t had our formal portrait painted yet. Once she graduates, perhaps we’ll consider having her do ours.”

  After several more minutes exchanging tidbits regarding the area and their neighbors, they agreed to use each other’s given names. “How did you and your husband meet?” Helen asked.

  “During my first season. I never expected to marry so well you see. I’m from a large family and had no dowry to speak of,” she explained. “It was love at first sight, and three months later we were wed. How did you meet Lo
rd Collingswood?”

  She certainly enjoyed Cassandra’s forthright manner. They might very well be kindred spirits. “We met this past season. He came to London to find a wife, and I wanted to start a family. Ours isn’t a love match, although, we’ve found we have much in common.”

  “Many ton marriages start out that way,” she replied. “I realize I’m most fortunate to have wed for love.”

  Growing more comfortable with this kind young woman, she found she wanted to share her concerns. She hesitantly said, “I’m falling in love with my husband, and it scares me to death. This past spring, a man engaged my affections who later proved false. I swore I would never fall in love again, but Lord Collingswood has slipped under my shield. I haven’t told him I love him—” Her cheeks burned. “I beg your pardon. Although I’m probably telling you more than you care to hear, you’re a wonderful listener. I hope I haven’t been too forward.”

  “Not at all,” she assured her. “You can feel safe sharing with me. I sensed we would become fast friends. Your husband seems quite fond of you. Perhaps he returns your regard. Give it time. Love has a way of sneaking in when one least expects. It can be frightening, but so rewarding.”

  “It’s so nice to have someone to talk to.” Her heart skipped a beat. Perhaps Matthew could grow to love her.

  A servant came in and asked her a question. Once she left, they resumed their conversation. She wanted to talk about her concerns regarding that detestable woman. “Thank you for introducing me to your friends the other night. Mrs. Arlington and Mrs. Winslow were the only women I had met in the area.”

  “Isn’t Meredith delightful?” Cassandra quipped. “I noticed she convinced you to volunteer at the orphanage.”

  Helen tapped her foot, slightly exasperated with the redirection in their conversation. That was not what she truly wanted to discuss. Perhaps she could bring up Mrs. Arlington in a moment. “She has. I volunteer at one whenever I’m in London. We were supposed to go to St. Stephen’s, but we haven’t had an opportunity yet.”

  “I volunteer there as well, and I would be happy to take you. Mrs. Mullins is wonderful with the children. We can go Wednesday if you would like, and we’ll ask Meredith to go with us. Will that be convenient for you?”

  “Wednesday is fine.” Helen hesitated, then broached the subject of her nemesis again. “I remember you mentioning you weren’t fond of Mrs. Arlington. She seems to have taken me in dislike. I can’t imagine why.”

  She harrumphed. “I’ve known her for years. She’s tried to get her talons in your husband. She’s probably jealous he married you instead of her. I never noticed your husband paying any particular attention to her. Although, she certainly tried to capture his.”

  “I appreciate you sharing that. Margaret told me the same thing. I suppose it makes sense she would not care for me.” Helen was glad she asked about Mrs. Arlington, and Cassandra’s answer put her mind at rest somewhat. She still thought there was more to this woman’s hatred. She really needed to talk to Matthew.

  That afternoon, Margaret never made an appearance at tea, and no one seemed to know where to find her. Helen went to the girl’s room. She was not there either. After searching other locations and still not finding her, she went to her husband’s study. “Have you seen Margaret? She wasn’t at tea, and she’s not in her room or anywhere else in the house.”

  “Perhaps she went riding. Shall we go see?” They made their way to the stables and found the head groom. Matthew questioned him regarding his sister’s whereabouts.

  Edwards scratched his whiskered jaw. “Let me see. Lady Margaret went riding this mornin’, but she ain’t returned.”

  “What groom accompanied my sister?” he asked, his tone sounded clipped.

  The groom nervously pulled at the brim of his hat. “She didn’t take one, milord.”

  “And why not?” he demanded. “You should have informed me. She’s been gone for hours.”

  “Lady Margaret goes off for long periods a lot and rarely takes a groom,” he replied, his voice wavering. “I didn’t know it was a problem, or I would o’ come t’ ye, milord.”

  Helen placed her hand on her husband’s arm. Wanting to diffuse the tense situation, she asked, “Shall we look for her along the shore? She likes it there.”

  Matthew ordered Edwards to saddle their horses, and they set off at a brisk pace. Margaret was not at the beach or anywhere else close by. By this time, he was grinding his teeth so hard, she feared he’d crack one of them. Then she remembered something the girl had told her. “Your sister said she likes to explore the caves. Should we search there?”

  He scowled. “I think I know where she may have gone. Let us make haste. I pray we make it before it’s too late. The caves will be underwater at high tide.”

  When they returned to the beach, they rode for a mile before spotting two hobbled horses outside of a cave. One of them belonged to Margaret. “I’m going inside, but it’s dark and cramped in there, I can search faster without you, since I know the caves so well.”

  Relieved, she replied. “As you wish. I don’t care for dark, closed in spaces anyway. I shall wait here for you.”

  Fifteen minutes passed with no sign of her husband or his sister. Her pulse beat faster as she noticed the tide lapping at the rocks lining the shore. Finally, Matthew immerged gripping Margaret’s arm and Mr. Boling following a few paces behind. By the look of the thundercloud adorning his face, he was furious.

  Margaret’s gown was wrinkled and mud streaked the hem. Her hair had come loose, and her blonde tresses hung around her shoulders in disarray. Mr. Boling’s clothing was disheveled as well. Dread rushed to the pit of her stomach.

  “Margaret, Mr. Boling, follow me to the house.” Once they were inside, he growled at his sister, “Go to your room. I’ll be up shortly to speak with you.” Matthew looked at her. “Will you please go upstairs with my sister and stay with her until I arrive?”

  “Of course.” He grabbed the young man by the arm and jerked him into the study, slamming the door behind them. She’d never seen her husband in such a taking. She hoped he did not do anything he might later regret.

  Once they entered Margaret’s room, Helen asked, “What happened? Your gown and hair are a mess. Did you and Mr. Boling do something untoward?”

  A belligerent expression flashed across her sister-in-law’s face. “I’m in love with Peter, and there isn’t a thing you or my brother can do.”

  “Oh, no, what have you done? Did you let him take liberties with your person?” She prayed whatever had gone on between the pair had not culminated in her lost virtue.

  “I told you we’re in love.” Triumph glowed in her green eyes. “Viscount Hartford is at death’s door. Once he inherits his title and money, we plan to wed.”

  Her stomach churned. “Please tell me you haven’t given him your innocence?”

  Margaret plopped on her bed and turned her back, refusing to discuss it further. A knock echoed through the bedchamber, and Matthew entered. Lines of tension were itched around his mouth and a crease had formed between his eyes.

  “I’ve spoken with Mr. Boling.” Her heart ached for him. “He’s leaving to purchase a special license and have his uncle sign it so the two of you can wed. He will return in two days. I pray this doesn’t ruin your life. You’re entirely too young to marry. At this point, there is no other solution. He says he’s in love with you and wants to wed, but I don’t trust him.”

  Margaret glared at him. “You think I’m too young. You’re wrong. I love Peter. His uncle is on his deathbed. When he dies, he will be a viscount. We’d planned to wait until that happened. Since you had to sneak up on us like that, we’ll just move up our plans.”

  Matthew sighed, clearly at his wit’s end. “There’s no use in continuing this discussion. What’s done is done. We will leave you alone.” His pain-filled eyes ran over his sister’s disheveled state. “Make yourself presentable before you come down to dinner.”

  Hel
en followed her husband to his study. “I caught them—” he bowed his head, “together in a state of undress. I could not believe my eyes. Why would she do this? Doesn’t she realize she’s ruined? I don’t trust Boling, and I would not be surprised if he disappears. And if he does intend to marry Margaret, I pray his uncle will sign for him since he’s underage.” He scrubbed at his face.

  “Surely he will do the honorable thing,” she countered. “Margaret swears they’re in love and were already planning to wed.”

  “Only time will tell.” His troubled eyes met hers. “I need to find Gregory and tell him his so-called friend ruined his sister. I’ll see you at dinner.”

  Helen went upstairs to their sitting room and sat on the sofa.

  What a shock.

  How could Margaret be so foolish?

  She was far too young to wed, but under the circumstances, there was nothing else to do. She prayed Mr. Boling returned with the special license. Poor Matthew was so devastated by this. Helen wanted to hold him in her arms and tell him all would be well, unfortunately…that might not be the case.

  * * * *

  Dinner was a solemn affair. Gregory was so furious with his friend, he’d threatened to call him out. Of course, Matthew vetoed that insanity and convinced him a duel would only make the situation worse. His other friends remained silent throughout the meal.

  Margaret never appeared, and even though he sent a missive demanding her presence, she did not acknowledge his command. His sister had requested a tray. He’d refused to have one sent. She could just go without, since she did not want to dine with them.

  Matthew paced his study all day and well into the night waiting for Boling to return. What he’d do if the rascal never showed, only God had the answer. He could hardly challenge him to a duel—the youth barely had whiskers. His only recourse would be to contact Boling’s family and demand he do right by his sister.