Never Kneel to a Knight

by Regina Scott

  “Matthew,” Ivy called from the sitting room. “Could you come in here, please?”

  The tremor in his sister’s voice raised his hackles. Something was wrong. Head down and hands ready, he barreled into the room.

  “’Bout time you got here,” Mrs. Bateman said from one of the gilded chairs, and Matthew pulled up short. From the sofa, Ivy sent him an apologetic glance.

  “What are you doing here?” Matthew demanded of his stepmother.

  “Well, I like that,” Mrs. Bateman huffed. “I come all this way to see you, and you can’t even ask after my health.”

  “Because I don’t care,” Matthew said. “This is my home. You aren’t welcome here.”

  She made a show of leaning back in the chair, bracing her hands over her stomach. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s not a bad house. I could be comfortable here, especially now that old fuss-pot has left. Miss Worthington.” She made Charlotte’s last name sound as if it was much longer than it was. “Didn’t seem very worthy to me.”

  Her punch was harder than the Gentleman’s. “What happened to Miss Worthington?”

  “She left with Daisy, Petunia, and Rufus,” Ivy supplied. “I thought I’d better stay until you returned home, Matthew.”

  Because their stepmother would have taken anything she fancied if left to her own devices.

  “Thank you, Ivy,” he said. “Go on to your room, if you’d like.”

  Ivy rose.

  “After you’ve fixed my supper,” Mrs. Bateman added. “And unpacked my things. I prefer a room at the back of the house. Less noise from the street.”

  Matthew’s fists clenched. “You can find a bed at the local inn.”

  She cocked her head. “Shouldn’t you be looking for your sisters? Who knows where that so-called sponsor took them? She had a conniving look in her eyes.”

  He could only be thankful for Charlotte’s quick thinking, and her kindness. “Daisy and Petunia will be fine. Allow me to escort you to the door.”

  “Oh, allow me, he says, as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.” She shook her head, the light catching on the silver she tried so hard to hide.

  “Matthew is only being polite, Mrs. Bateman,” Ivy said. “I do believe he’s right. You’d be more comfortable at an inn.”

  Mrs. Bateman’s lower lip trembled. “You’d throw me out? Your own kin?”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to claim her as no kin of his. She’d never shown Ivy or Daisy a drop of kindness, had spoiled Tuny until the girl was old enough to have a mind of her own. What bond did he share with her?

  Ivy—generous, sweet Ivy—had other ideas.

  “No, of course not,” she assured the woman who had tormented her for years. “It’s simply that there isn’t room.”

  Their stepmother hitched herself higher. “You and your sisters can bunk up. I’ll take whichever room is largest.”

  “No, you will not,” Matthew said. “I’m going for Daisy and Petunia. You will be gone by the time I return, or I’ll throw you out myself.”

  Even if that made him the Beast of Birmingham.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Truly, darling, it’s nothing to concern you.”

  Meredith’s hands tightened at her sides. Julian’s look was tender, his smile encouraging. He obviously meant to console, but she was already concerned, and waving the matter away did not help.

  “You were snubbed,” she insisted. “You should have been in attendance at the levee when Sir Matthew was elevated. You have had the prince’s ear since the first balloon demonstration.”

  He leaned back on the sofa beside her, running a hand over Fortune’s fur as the cat lounged in his lap. Her eyes regarded Meredith solemnly, as if chiding her for worrying on such a lovely day.

  “His Royal Highness is nothing if not mercurial,” Julian replied. “Those rising in favor one day fall the next. Look at Harding, reduced to putting on a pugilistic display to regain his place of affection.”

  “At least you did not have to go so far,” Meredith agreed. “But I know your ambitions, Julian. This slight must rankle.”

  He shifted on the sofa, and Fortune rearranged herself with a disapproving glance. “Not as much as it might have done once. I find myself content.”

  As if she agreed, Fortune closed her eyes and began to purr.

  Normally, Meredith allowed herself to be swayed by her pet’s reaction to people and situations. She should be content as well. Yet she could not shake the feeling that something was not as it should be.

  The noise downstairs confirmed it.

  Fortune’s eyes popped open even as Julian frowned and glanced through the doorway. Something thundered up the stairs, as if a horse was galloping toward them. A massive hound plunged into the withdrawing room, dragging Sir Matthew’s youngest sister, with Charlotte and the middle sister right behind.

  Fortune bolted.

  Chaos reigned.

  It was some moments before Meredith had everyone sorted. Julian took charge of the invading beast, his hand tight on the leash as he sat on the far side of the room. Petunia stuck to the arm of the chair and spoke encouragingly to her canine protector. The other Bateman girl, Daisy, had seated herself in the opposite corner and seemed determined to glower at everyone and everything. Meredith had never realized how much she resembled her brother.

  Fortune perched on the top of one of the glass-fronted cases, tail lashing, and gaze latched on the lumbering beast across the room. Meredith could only be glad the dog’s eyesight appeared to be fading. His bulbous nose must have informed him a cat was in the room, but he hadn’t done more than tug on his leash since Julian had taken charge of him.

  “I’m so sorry, Meredith,” Charlotte said again. Her auburn hair had come free from its pins to curl around her face, and her green skirts were dotted with black and tan hair and spots whose origin Meredith did not like contemplating. “Worth closed up the house before he left on his honeymoon and gave most of the staff time off, so I couldn’t take the girls there. And none of the hotels we tried would accept Rufus. I didn’t know where else to go.”

  “You are all quite welcome,” Meredith assured her, returning her gaze to her pet. “Fortune, however, may not be as agreeable.”

  “Wouldn’t blame her,” Daisy said, skirts drawn close. “I wouldn’t be agreeable under the circumstances.”

  “He won’t hurt her,” Petunia insisted, tugging on one lock of blond hair as she shifted from foot to foot beside Julian. “Rufus is a good dog.”

  Meredith gave her a smile. “Alas, I fear Fortune requires more than your word on the matter. You have only recently been introduced, after all.”

  Petunia removed herself from the dog’s side to come gaze up at the cat. Fortune’s copper-colored eyes focused on her.

  “I’m very sorry, Miss Fortune,” she said. “Won’t you please come down, so we can become better acquainted?”

  Fortune continued to eye her a moment, and Meredith held her breath. Ever since the cat had followed her home during one of the darkest periods of her life, Meredith had trusted Fortune’s opinion. If the cat was comfortable around a person, that person tended to be worthwhile. If Fortune turned her back, Meredith knew to do the same. Still, the addition of a large, strange hound to the house might have changed everything.

  Petunia held up her arms, and Fortune dropped lightly into them.

  Meredith breathed.

  “There are only two guest chambers at present,” she told them as Petunia snuggled the cat and Julian patted the dog. “The Misses Bateman will have to share.”

  “We usually do,” Daisy said with a shrug that reminded Meredith again of the girl’s brother.

  “But I’m certain Daisy and Petunia appreciate your kindness,” Charlotte said with a look to the middle sister.

  Daisy sat higher on the chair she’d appropriated. “Of course. Thank you so much for making us welcome on such short notice, Miss Thorn.”

  “And for letting us keep Rufus,�
� Petunia added, stroking Fortune’s fur.

  “Rufus may stay in the house so long as he doesn’t trouble Fortune,” Meredith warned them. “Otherwise, he will have to make himself comfortable in the rear yard.”

  “Perhaps we should introduce them,” Petunia ventured.

  Julian’s brows shot up, and he clutched the leash tighter. Charlotte looked to Meredith.

  Meredith took Fortune from her young guest. “Miss Petunia, help Mr. Mayes with Rufus. Do not let him loose until Fortune indicates you may.”

  Petunia hurried around the sofa as if determined to show the cat how companionable an animal the hound could be. Julian, Daisy, and Charlotte looked less enthused. But Julian clung to the dog as he moved forward and Meredith brought Fortune around the sofa.

  Rufus’s great saggy-skinned head came up, nostrils twitching, and he bellowed a bark. Fortune reared in Meredith’s arms, claws digging into the cotton of her gown. Meredith stepped away, ready to release her pet if Fortune sought escape.

  “Hush, Rufus,” Charlotte scolded.

  The dog dropped his head and sighed. Meredith bent and deposited Fortune on the ground a safe distance away. “Fortune, this is Rufus. He will be a guest in our home. Make him welcome.”

  Daisy shook her head, and Julian quirked a smile, but neither Charlotte nor Petunia seemed to find it odd that Meredith conversed with her pet. She liked them all the better for it.

  Fortune stood poised on the floor. Rufus blinked, drooling on the carpet. Meredith hid her shudder. Did he come with his own napkin?

  When the dog didn’t move, Fortune slipped around one side of him, keeping her distance as she eyed the massive hound. Other than the twitch of his nose, Rufus gave no sign he’d noticed her.

  “Good boy, Rufus,” Charlotte encouraged him, and Julian patted the dog’s dark back with his free hand.

  Rufus’ tail gave a thump. As it hit the ground, Fortune pounced on it.

  Rufus jerked forward, knocking Charlotte aside, yanking the leash from Julian’s grip, and sending Petunia sprawling. Meredith barely swept out of the hound’s way as he whipped his body around to see who had attacked him. Fortune dove for cover behind the arm of the sofa.

  “Well, that was a surprise,” Julian said, retrieving the leash.

  “Indeed,” Charlotte said, picking herself up and shaking out her skirts.

  “It was an ambush,” Petunia declared, climbing to her feet. “Rufus never saw her coming.”

  But he suspected where she’d gone. He paced along the sofa, sniffing and snuffling. As he reached the end, a white-tipped paw shot out and smacked him on the nose. Rufus recoiled, then rubbed the spot against the fabric, leaving a trail of mucus behind.

  “The rear yard,” Meredith said. “Now.”

  Petunia hurried to obey, Julian at her side, and Daisy rose to help them.

  As they clambered down the stairs, Charlotte opened her mouth.

  “If you apologize again,” Meredith said, “I will send you out to stay with the hound.”

  Charlotte snapped her mouth shut. Then she met Meredith’s gaze, and they both started laughing. Her friend joined her on the sofa.

  Fortune hopped up on the back and slipped down into Meredith’s lap as if nothing whatsoever had happened.

  “Naughty puss,” Meredith said, still chuckling. “What am I to do with you?”

  “I can’t blame her,” Charlotte said, tucking back her skirts to avoid the smear of damp on the sofa. “I wouldn’t like something five times my size invading my home.” She shuddered suddenly. “I didn’t like Mrs. Bateman invading Sir Matthew’s home, and she’s only twice my size.”

  “An inconvenience, to be sure,” Meredith said, petting Fortune. “First this fight and now an unseemly relative. At this rate, I cannot see Sir Matthew being embraced by the ton.”

  Charlotte slumped as if suddenly heavy. “And the girls have worked so hard. He’s worked hard. Yet I feel a reticence in him. This elevation could have been his making, but he does nothing to seize the moment and everything to tarnish it.”

  Interesting. She’d sensed the same hesitation in Julian.

  “Perhaps he doesn’t see it as his moment,” Meredith said. “Perhaps he was content with who and what he was.”

  Charlotte sighed. “Then why agree to have me instruct him? I thought he wanted more.”

  She’d thought the same of Julian. Had she and Charlotte both mistaken their man?

  “We want the best for those we care about,” she acknowledged. “Is it possible you wanted more for him then he wanted?”

  Charlotte drew herself up. “Well, of course I wanted more for him. He’s too fine a man to spend his life as a bodyguard. It’s not a position of longevity.”

  Meredith smiled. “I imagine not. And, if I’m not mistaken, that’s the sound of Sir Matthew coming to call now. I’ll take Fortune upstairs and leave you to make the explanations.”

  ~~~

  Charlotte shook her head as her friend vacated the withdrawing room. Explanations were certainly in order, yet how was she to explain what had happened at his home? She still didn’t know what to make of it. John Curtis had broken her heart with his selfish ambitions, but even he had never been so horrid as Mrs. Bateman. How did one respond to such evil without repaying it with equal venom? She did not want to be that sort of person. And she certainly didn’t want Matthew to become that sort of person.

  She didn’t have time to gather her thoughts much more than that before Mr. Cowls showed him in. Matthew was dressed as he had been when she first knew him—brown coat, brown breeches, shoes scuffed, and neckcloth knotted. It was as if he’d gone back in time, back in character. The only change was his eyes. Where she was used to warmth and concern, now they positively blazed with emotion.

  “Are you safe?” he demanded. “Daisy and Petunia? Are they with you?”

  “All fine,” Charlotte assured him, motioning him to take a seat. “You must have been home.” She licked her lips. “Did you…is she…how is Ivy?”

  He snorted and refused the chair, pacing about the room instead, each step a thud. “Ivy is a better Christian than I am. I wanted to throw that woman out, but Ivy counseled mercy.”

  Mercy. She wasn’t sure Mrs. Bateman knew the meaning of the word, but she was proud of Ivy for embracing it.

  “Perhaps I shouldn’t have taken the girls,” Charlotte allowed. “But she was so unpleasant.”

  “That’s her nature,” he agreed. “She’s sweet as sugar to a fellow until he ups and marries her. And then all is bitterness. Da didn’t know it, but she’d had two husbands before him. I won’t be surprised if she doesn’t settle on another.”

  He forced himself to stop. “Forgive me. You didn’t need to hear all that.”

  “It helps to understand her a little,” Charlotte said. “But I still can’t abide the idea of her being with the girls.”

  His smile was grim. “Never fear. I won’t let her hurt my sisters again.”

  Mr. Cowls must have alerted the others, for Daisy and Petunia hurried in then, Rufus conspicuous by his absence. Charlotte could only hope he was safe in the rear yard and not bothering Meredith and Fortune.

  “Oh, Matty!” Petunia dashed up and hugged him.

  Matthew patted her back, face softening at last. “Easy now, Sweet Pea.”

  “Did you send her packing?” Daisy asked, hands on hips.

  He raised his head to meet his sister’s outraged gaze. “Not yet. But she should be gone by the time we return.”

  Daisy snorted. “Not likely. She’ll find a way to bleed us dry.”

  “Not if I have anything to say about it,” Matthew promised.

  Petunia pulled back to gaze up at him. “Daisy said she was awful.”

  Daisy nodded. “You should have seen how she treated Miss Worthington. Grabbed her arm, dragged her across the floor, and tried to force her out the door.”

  Matthew stilled. It was the oddest thing. She was so used to him standing poised
and ready. Now it was as if every muscle in his body had become hard as stone. His look sent a shiver through her.

  “She laid hands on you?” he asked Charlotte, voice low.

  Charlotte glanced down at the bare skin below her sleeve. Already dark spots were forming, the bruises she’d expected. “She was rather insistent. But I’m fine.”

  He was staring at her arm. He reached out a hand, then drew back as if afraid the merest touch would hurt her anew. He raised his head.

  “Is Miss Thorn amenable to Daisy and Petunia spending the night?” he asked in that same odd voice.

  “Yes,” Charlotte allowed. “Why? What did you have in mind?”

  “I need to explain the situation to Mrs. Bateman,” he said. “I’d rather spare my sisters, and you.”

  Alarm skittered along her nerves. “Matthew, you wouldn’t do anything you’d regret.”

  He let go of Petunia, who also regarded him with a worried frown, and gathered himself with obvious difficulty.

  “No, Charlotte,” he said. “I won’t do anything I’ll regret. And I’ll do my best not to do anything you’ll regret. That’s all I can promise.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  She’d hurt Charlotte.

  Matthew focused on taking slow, even breaths as he hailed a hack to return him to Covent Garden. Of all the slights and cruelties his stepmother had inflicted on him and his sisters over the years, he wasn’t sure why this one angered him the most. Perhaps it was simply the final indignation.

  Perhaps he hadn’t come as far as he’d hoped.

  The thought chilled him, but even that couldn’t quell the fire inside. It had been building for days, since he’d seen Cassidy again, since Harding’s insistence on this fight. He only knew one way to let it out. Somehow, he couldn’t pity Mrs. Bateman for being on the receiving end.

  He found her in the dining room, finishing up part of a roast that had no doubt been meant for the family dinner. She belched as he stopped in the doorway.