Fenella J Miller (12 page)

Before the meal drew to its close, she knew she was in danger of becoming emotionally entangled with her husband. Foster had told her he had a
chere amie
in London. High time he returned to his mistress. She had no wish to be used as a substitute. Unless Alex was in love with her, she would remain celibate. As this would never happen she was resigned to life as his companion only.

Two weeks after Eleanor’s defection, Jane was still locking the communicating door between their rooms. Edward could hardly kick it open in someone else’s house. Things would be different when they returned to the marital home. There her screams of protest would go unremarked. The servants had been handpicked by him. All were loyal to him and would do his bidding regardless of how unpleasant the duties might be.

He was to travel back to London with a crony of Haverstock’s. He had arranged this lift by being at his most charming and the poor fellow had been obliged to agree.

Thankfully there were no mewling brats to spoil the journey. Sir Anthony Deaver and his wife were in their middle years, their progeny departed for lives of their own.

He smiled across at Lady Deaver and she simpered. “I must thank you again, my lady, for allowing me to intrude on this journey. I have urgent business in town and did not wish to discommode my dear wife and our children by dragging them there.”

“How kind of you, Lord Thorrington. Your wife must much appreciate your consideration in these matters.”

“Indeed she does; we are the most devoted couple. I cannot wait to return in order to spend time at home with her. My boys are leaving for school very soon. I wish to be there to escort them.”

She simpered again. “How thoughtful. How thoughtful it is of him, is it not, Sir Anthony?”

Her husband grunted; he was already more asleep than not. The journey was going to be tedious in the extreme, but the carriage was comfortable and no doubt the overnight accommodation would be excellent. His man, Hudson, was on the box, keeping an eye on the trunks.

He settled back, closing his eyes in pretence of sleep. This would stop the wretched woman from talking to him. His head was churning. He had received an urgent summons from his lawyers. He ground his teeth. Why must he go to them each time? He had no choice for without their co-operation he would not have access to Eleanor’s inheritance.

The next quarter’s rents were due in less than a month, thank God. He would then be solvent and have no need to go cap in hand to the black crows who controlled the trust fund.

Odd how the children had managed to remain all but invisible these past few weeks. Something was not right; whenever he appeared in their vicinity they melted away. Unless he had been prepared to tramp up to the attics to see them, which he was not, he had been denied their company.

In the weeks since Eleanor had run away there had been a change in the way things were. It was as if the ground beneath his feet was beginning to crumble, his unassailable position of authority somehow pushed off balance by this unexpected defiance.

He had decided to let Eleanor settle in to her employment for a while. If he had left before the end of the appointed time at Bridgeton Abbey there would have been comment. This was the last thing he wished. There was no danger for now. She would not be five and twenty until February next year; then she got control of her money. She was a plain woman, as thin as a rail, her eyes dull and her hair worse. How could someone like this attract a man of Bentley’s inclination?

He had made judicious enquiries amongst the guests and learnt, to his satisfaction, that Bentley kept a mistress in town. She was the relic of a very wealthy banker, and although unsuitable to marry into the nobility was ideal in the role she had chosen to play.

From what he had heard, Bentley had vowed never to remarry. He was still mourning his first wife. If the man satisfied his carnal desires with his mistress, what possible reason could he have to marry again? He had the required heir, so the need to procreate did not arise.

No, he was worrying unnecessarily. When he had concluded the business with the lawyers he would travel incognito to Suffolk and find out how things stood for himself. Eleanor could stay where she was for a few weeks, but, my God, she would be back under his control long before February.

His man of affairs, Johnson, who was privy to everything he did, was already on his way to Blakeley. This was a small village not far from the market town of Ipswich. There he was to meet with his man. When the time came, together they would plan his strategy and set in motion what was needed to remove his sister.

The following morning he marched into Messrs Thomas & Puxton in Bond Street and was shown immediately to the senior lawyer’s room. This charlatan was the son of the lawyer who had dealt with his family’s affairs for years. The man was about his own age, and although punctilious and polite, did not treat him with the deference he deserved.

A stooped clerk rushed to fetch him a chair. Puxton bowed. “Pray be seated, my lord. I am glad you were able to visit so promptly.”

The man was definitely gloating. “Get on with it, man. I have not got all day to sit here.”

“I have heard from Lord Bentley’s lawyers. I’m sure you know the reason for this communication.”

Why in the devil’s name did Bentley’s legal team wish to contact…? There could be only be one reason. It couldn’t be true. A weight settled on his chest. He had difficulty asking the question. “He has
married
Lady Eleanor?”

“Did you not know this, my lord? I’m sorry if this information is a surprise to you.” The lawyer glanced down at the paper in front of him. “They were married on August seventh at Bridgeton Abbey, the domicile of Lord and Lady Haverstock, in Hertfordshire.”

There was a rushing noise in his ears. His head spun. The bitch had married Lord Bentley before she left. He had been told a fabrication. Everyone had been laughing at him behind his back. Bile rose in his throat and an overwhelming rage consumed him.

“If you would sign here, Lord Thorrington; and please place your initials at the bottom of these other pages.”

Edward scrawled his name with a flourish; it would not do to let the lawyer know exactly how he felt about this matter. Bentley had insisted he sign over Eleanor’s trust fund and he had no choice but to concur. In return his four children had received a sum of ten thousand pounds each to be held in trust by the lawyers until they were of age. The interest was to be added to the account; the money was unavailable to him.

“Was there anything else?”

“No, my lord.” The man folded the duplicate document, fussily tied pink ribbon around it, and handed it to him. “This is an excellent match. I’m sure you must be delighted to see her so well settled, my lord.”

Edward ground his teeth. “I am indeed, sir. She will be sorely missed at Thorrington Manor. She was a second mother to my children.” He stood, bringing an end to the tedious conversation.

He would spend a pleasant evening in the company of his mistress. Helen was always enraptured by his presence. He had arranged for his carriage to collect him from his town house the next day. It was high time he returned to the bosom of his family. His wife had still not been taught that defying him always led to pain and misery. Eleanor had learned that lesson well.

London was hot and there was an outbreak of infectious fever in the East End. Would his health be at risk when he travelled through that district in order to return to Essex? His lips curved in a facsimile of a smile.

There was a possible way he could benefit from this catastrophe. Eleanor was the wife of a wealthy man; if her husband died it was possible the Bentley brats would be placed under his guardianship.

When that man died she would receive her inheritance intact. He had been surprised to find Bentley had insisted this codicil be added to the settlement, but it suited him very well.

He would set matters in motion immediately. His man, Hudson, could handle the arrangements for him.

In a better humour, he arrived at the small house near the river where Helen resided. Whilst there he could forget his worries; his mistress didn’t question his judgement or go out of her way to anger him. It was getting dark when he finally left her bed, determined to complete the task his wife had set him.

“My lord, must you leave so soon?” She stretched out a soft, plump arm and smiled enticingly. He was spent. Making love to her three times in as many hours was an exhausting business.

“I’m not coming back to bed; I’m supposed to be seeking out a governess for the children.” But Helen was very persuasive and he didn’t leave her apartment until the following morning.

On arriving at Tendring Manor his wife greeted him softly. “My lord, I’m pleased to see you home. Are you well? I…”

“Well enough.” He pushed past her and strode into the drawing-room. As soon as she was through the door he slammed it.

“My lord, I do most humbly beg your forgiveness for my defiance. I can’t think what possessed me.”

“I will not be disobeyed. Is that quite clear?”

She cowered against the door. He raised his hand and struck her across the face.

She slid to the floor, blood trickling from her split lip. He bent down. “I said. Is that quite clear?”

She nodded and tears mixed with the blood on her cheeks. A pathetic sight. “Enough, Jane. I forgive you. Get up, I have good news for you.”

He turned his back whilst she struggled to regain her feet. “I spoke to a friend of mine at my club and he has recommended someone for the position of governess. Her name is Smithson. I have seen the woman’s references and appointed her. I hope that is in order?”

“Thank you, my lord. I’m sure she will be exactly what we want for the children. When it she to arrive?”

“Two days from now. Make sure the accommodation is prepared and the children ready to receive her.”

Alex was making a particular effort to be charming and pleasant. He appeared in the schoolroom to join in the morning’s lessons, played cricket in the afternoon, and promised that he would begin teaching Alexander and the girls to ride as soon as he had purchased suitable mounts for them.

There was no further intimacy, but on several occasions, especially when Eleanor was dining with him, she caught a decided gleam in his eye as he watched her across the table. She had not repeated the error of wearing an evening gown. She appeared each time in a high necked dimity, better suited to the afternoon. Her only concession each night was a more elaborate arrangement of her hair.

The house was fully staffed; with his permission she had asked the housekeeper, Nayland, to start a thorough cleaning of the empty rooms. The day before the party, he asked her to join her for a stroll whilst the children were out with the nursery maids.

“There is something I particularly wish to show you, my dear. Also, there are matters that we need to discuss pertaining to the event tomorrow.”

“Everything is organized, I have biscuits for the village children when they go and the cake is iced.”

He grinned. “I have no wish to know the details, my dear, merely what my duties are to be.”

“You are to wave the flag at the commencement of each race. Foster is to be the judge; I thought he might seem more impartial to the participants. At the end you are to present the winners with a silk rosette and a silver threepenny bit. Then the second a green rosette and one penny, finally for the third child a blue rosette and a halfpenny. There, that is not too arduous, is it?”

“Excellent. Come, we shall converse of something more interesting.”

“Well, my lord, I have removed the hangings from the—”

“Please, no more domestic detail, Eleanor, I beg you. These matters are your responsibility. I have no wish to be involved. Did I not see several boxes arrive yesterday? Surely you would rather talk about new clothes than bed hangings?”

She smiled. There was that strange light in his eyes again. “I had thought that my apparel would be of even less interest to you, sir. I have more outfits than I shall ever have occasion to wear. As we do not entertain, and I am not intending to pay morning calls, why do I need so many?”

“You are a wonder, my dear. I cannot believe there’s another woman in the land who would object to having a full closet. I like to see you dressed as befits your station. You are an earl’s daughter, the title is your own. It was disgraceful Thorrington obliged you to wear the garb of a servant.”

This was the opportunity she had been waiting for. “Alex, I wish to discuss my former life. The only thing marring my happiness is the fact that I’ve had no word from my nephews and niece. I was like a mother to them and there is not a moment in the day I do not worry about their welfare.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Then you must invite them to visit, my dear.” He paused, his eyes watchful. “I’m leaving for Town the day next week. I shall be away a week; I should be pleased if you had company in my absence. Why not write today and invite your sister-in-law and her children to come?”

She pressed his arm. “Thank you, Alex. I shall write immediately.” He placed his own over hers and her heart skipped a beat.

“It’s my pleasure, my dear.” He had remained with them far longer than expected; she had no complaints on that score. The children had learned to love their father; he was no longer a stranger to any of them.

“Indeed, if they came straight away the boys could travel from here to their school.” Eleanor moved forward, forcing him to release her.

The stable clock struck three; the children would be back soon with the comfits and bonbons ordered from the village shop. Why was he leading her in this direction?

His arm encircled her waist and he guided her under the archway leading to the yard. “Go to the third loose box, from the end, my dear.”

As he spoke a dapple grey head appeared over the door. “What a pretty horse; I have not seen her before.” She stroked the animal’s ears, loving the silky feeling.

He was beside her, patting the animal’s gleaming neck. “This is Silver, she’s my wedding gift to you.”

Her hands froze. Time stood still. A gift? This was quite unexpected. “I am obliged, Alex. I have not ridden since my mother died. However, it would be a pleasure to do so again, especially on this lovely mare.”

His shoulder was solid against hers, even through the thickness of his jacket and shirt she could feel his strength. “I’m glad that you like her, my dear. She’s perfect for you: good-natured, but eager to go.”

He was waiting for her to say more. “Thank you, I don’t expect to be given gifts. This was not part of our arrangement.”

His breath brushed her cheek, the deep brim of her bonnet couldn’t protect her from this intimacy. “Not part of our arrangement? I believe that’s also something that needs further discussion at some point.”

With this cryptic comment, he took her elbow and guided her round to the home paddock situated behind the stables. In it were three brown ponies, identical in size and colour.

She couldn’t restrain herself, she squeezed his hands a second time. “The children will love them, they are perfect. Exmore ponies make the best mounts for beginners. I can’t wait to get them started; they will be so excited.”

She attempted to remove her hands, but his fingers tightened. “I thought to give them all a name day gift; I have been remiss in my duties in that respect. As they are sharing the party, I believe Lucy will be happy for her siblings to receive something as well.”

Why was he staring at her again in that disturbing way? Eleanor tried again to extricate her hands. He was so close his body heat washed over her; his familiar aroma of lemons was now mixed with saddle soap and leather.

Running feet approached the paddock. She jumped away. Davies, the estate manager, skidded to a halt. “My lord, you are needed urgently! There’s trouble in the village.”

“I’ll come at once. Please excuse me, Eleanor, my dear.” Alex strode off, leaving her alone with the ponies. Presumably it was no concern of hers. She would remain a while longer before she returned to the house.

Good grief! The village! The children were there. Could this difficulty involve them in some way?

She spun, gathering her skirt in both hands, and ran after her husband, determined to discover for herself if their children were in danger. There was pandemonium in the stable yard as grooms frantically saddled horses. Alex was talking urgently to a young man, who raced off in the direction of the house

“Lord Bentley, tell me, has something happened to the children? Has there been an accident?”

Grim-faced, he turned to her. “You must not concern yourself, my lady. Go back to the house, I shall return later with the children. Please don’t worry.”

He vaulted onto his huge stallion, the three grooms followed, plus Davies. One groom led an extra horse. This must be for Foster; the message had been sent to him.

Eleanor was not prepared to let them go without her. Lucy, Elizabeth and Alexander were her children too; she loved them as much she loved her niece and nephews. Whatever his instructions, she would not be left behind. She called to one of the remaining grooms.

“Saddle Silver at once, bring her round the front of the house. I shall be ready in five minutes.”

Alex was relieved to see Foster leaping down the marble steps and racing towards him. “Come on, man, there’s not a moment to lose. Some villain has abducted my son.” Foster tossed over a brace of pistols, one after the other. Alex jammed them in his pockets. “Are they primed and ready to go?”

“They are, my lord.”

He urged his horse into a reckless gallop scattering gravel as he thundered down the drive and into the winding lane that led to Blakely village. His stomach churned. Why should anyone snatch his son? He swallowed. Was Alexander to be held for ransom? No one in his demesne would do such a thing, here his tenants were well fed. Perhaps itinerants had drifted on to his land and snatched this opportunity.

How in God’s name did they know who Alexander was? He could have been any gentleman’s son. Did someone in the village point him out? Had these bastards seized the opportunity and only discovered their good fortune afterwards?

The message said nothing about the children’s whereabouts, the man had spoken his piece and vanished. And what of his daughters? Why was there no mention of them? He was to go to Bunton’s farm, at the far end of the village.

He raised his arm as they reached the outskirts of Blakely. To ride pell-mell down the winding main street was foolhardy. Subterfuge was called for. When his men were beside him he explained what he intended to do.

“I shall ride in; I want Tom with me. Foster, take two men and follow the path behind the church; keep hidden, and work your way toward the farm. Davies, you take the other man and follow the stream. With luck they’ll not be expecting to be attacked from three sides. Go carefully, we’re not sure how many we’re dealing with.”

He waited until they were out of sight, then with Tom behind he resumed his ride up the deserted lane. Where was everyone? What was going on here? Were they dealing with more than just a couple of vagabonds hoping to make a few guineas?

“Tom, can you remember exactly what the messenger said? Did he ask for me in particular?”

“He did, my lord. ‘Tell Lord Bentley we have his son. He’s to come immediately to Bunton’s barn if he wishes to recover him alive.’ Those were his exact words.”

This was no random kidnapping. Why should anyone wish him harm? He had no enemies, but someone had targeted him by snatching his child. He was following their orders without a second thought. Who had known he was in residence, had known he wouldn’t stop to consider the consequences?

Was it Alexander they wanted, or himself? Whoever was behind this was well-informed to have known the children were in the village today. He must concentrate. Try and fathom this conundrum before he reached the farm.

The sound of his horse’s hooves on the cobbles announced his coming as nothing else could. The few shops were shuttered, the path as empty as the street. His tenants wouldn’t hide without good reason. Whoever sent him the message must have terrified the villagers into doing their bidding.

If he was murdered who would gain from his death? The hair on his forearms stood up. He had told Eleanor last week he had altered his will in her favour. The estate was entailed, but his various investments would come to her. In the event of his death she would be a wealthy woman indeed. His fingers tightened on his reins and Lucifer stopped.

They had reached the turning into the narrow lane leading to Bunton’s barn. Distracted by his appalling speculations he turned the animal’s head and moved up the track. He must be mistaken, each day he spent in her company he liked her better. He would trust her with his life.

The hideous crack of a rifle shot jerked him from his reverie. The bullet whistled past his head, taking his hat with it. In one smooth movement he rolled from the saddle and into one of the ditches running on either side of the track. His pistols would be no use against a rifle, but he felt happier with them in his hands.

A fusillades of bullets thudded into the ground and he crouched lower. The smell from the dank water made him gag, but kneeling in human excrement was better than being dead. “Tom, are you hurt?”

“I ain’t, sir, but it was bloomin’ close.”

“The horses?”

“Gone, my lord. I don’t reckon either of them was hit. What do we do now?”

Alex knew they were pinned down. It was only a matter of time before their attackers appeared to capture them. Were they attempting to kill him? Or were these warning shots? Was the abductor showing him see how well prepared they were?

Davies and Foster carried shotguns, but even they would be no protection against one well-aimed rifle. He had no choice; he must remain where he was, wait and see how matters developed.

Christ on a tree! How could he be so stupid?

They did not have Alexander. They would not have taken just one child; they could have taken all three. This was a ruse to get him here.

“Tom, we must crawl back down the ditch. Keep your head down. Good luck.”