Beth

by Andersen, Maggi

  Beth frowned into the mirror. She was being foolish. So relieved to be safe, of course she was enormously grateful to him. As the horror of last night faded a little, she would begin to think more clearly.

  She turned and smiled at Lilly. “Ready to leave?”

  “As much as I ever will be,” Lilly said with a wobbly grin.

  Chapter Eight

  As they departed, Beth waved from the window of the chaise. Marcus assumed that back in the loving bosom of her family, she would continue her come-out once she recovered from her ordeal. The suitors would line up. There would be plenty of men interested in a pretty lord’s daughter. The rush of hot jealousy took him by surprise. He swung around, strode to the stables, and saw off the groom who rode the chestnut back to Whittemore House.

  Marcus mounted Zeus for the journey home. As he rode along, he gave little thought to Ramsey. His thoughts were of Beth: her spirit, her courage, how clever she’d been in outwitting the devil. On their ride to the village she’d told him how she’d tried to beat him at faro by employing the skills her brother had taught her. Her failure to get the better of the baron made her rueful. He huffed out a laugh at that and shook his head. He’d never met anyone like her.

  He’d always considered his nature judicious. Not one to allow hot blood to rule him. During skirmishes on the Peninsular he was known for keeping his men focused and well disciplined. But he was learning something new about himself; he was capable of a heated yearning, an urgent passion. He realized that after all they had been through, what really mattered had suddenly become clear. Something was forged between them, for despite such short acquaintance, he wanted Beth; wanted her there at night in his bed, and when he looked across the room at those long, sometimes tedious functions he must attend, to find her smiling at him. It was surprising, but there it was.

  He hadn’t been on the hunt for a wife, his constant travel abroad made that difficult. It had been a glamorous, exciting life working for the foreign office, and suited the rootless feeling which had never left him after the war. A lonely life, he admitted, his short-term relationships with women never deepening into love. One he was now growing tired of. He wanted hearth and home, and Beth, in the house in the Cotswolds he’d inherited from his father, which had been leased for years.

  But this looming trip to Greece gave him pause. He intended to retire when he returned, but he could be gone for a year or more. By then Beth may well be engaged or even married. He couldn’t rush her off to a country where there was unrest. Nor could he ask her to wait for him. That hardly seemed fair or indeed wise. And even if he decided to take that chance, he could hardly stride into Andrew’s home and confess his desire to court her, like a blundering fool, not after the distressing experience she’d just endured. And what of Beth, would she welcome his suit? Might her flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes as they said their goodbyes, have merely been gratitude?

  His hand on the rein while deep in thought, the rank smells and clamor made him aware that they had left the meadows and small villages behind. He rode through the outskirts of the bustling London streets packed with wagons, coaches, and carriages, the pavements crowded with jostling people.

  It was well past noon when he reached the quieter tree-lined streets of Mayfair. He dismounted at his stables and Davy, his head groom greeted him. Marcus gave Zeus a pat before the groom took his rein and led the horse away.

  After he had lunched, bathed, and dressed, Marcus set out on foot for Andrew’s mansion in Curzon Street. As he walked along the pavement swinging his cane, he was eager to learn from Andrew what had occurred in Paris to make Ramsey so mad for revenge. But most of all, he was eager to see Beth again.

  The butler ushered Marcus into the library at Harrow Court. Smiling warmly, Andrew shook his hand. “Well done, Marcus. We were so relieved when Beth arrived home safely. I employed a Bow Street runner, but nothing much could be done during the early hours, and we had so little to go on.” He waved Marcus into a chair. “What a business! To reach Castlebridge to discover the letter was a hoax. And then on our return to London to find Beth had disappeared. Roused from her bed, Mrs. Grayshott was so deeply upset I could gain little sense from her. But in the end, I decided that she knew precious little more than we did. Foul play was at work, however, which upset Jenny dreadfully.”

  “A dastardly fellow, Ramsey,” Marcus said. “It was little more than a hunch which took me to his house in Twickenham.”

  “It was a stroke of genius.”

  “All because of a horse with four white feet.” Marcus went on to explain about the gelding he’d hoped to buy at Tattersalls and how he had recognized it from the groom’s description.

  “I shudder to think how it might have turned out. There were hundreds of guests present that night, and fortunately, a noisy argument broke out between Lord and Lady Blake and the lady’s lover, which held everyone’s attention. The story is still doing the rounds I am told.”

  “I was gratified to learn that Mrs. Grayshott acceded to your request for discretion,” Andrew said over his shoulder while he poured wine from a carafe into two crystal glasses. He returned to hand one to Marcus, then took the chair opposite. His lips twitched. “The poor lady obviously struggled to resist such a juicy tale to relate to her dowager friends, but I have her firm promise nothing further will be said about the matter. We are lucky indeed, for only a couple of servants were witness to what took place, and even if it was discussed in the servants’ hall, very little could be made of it. I imagine it will soon die away. As soon as Beth arrived, I sent a letter of apology to Countess Wallington, stating how Beth was hurriedly called home due to a family emergency. The countess might suspect something more, but she is too wise in such matters to question it. So,” he said, leaning back in his wing chair, relief etched into his face, “we will remain hopeful that the haute ton remains in ignorance.”

  “That is reassuring.” Marcus turned the glass in his hand admiring the way the light caught the facets of crystal tinted ruby by the wine. “How is Beth?” he asked as casually as he could.

  “Very tired. She and Jenny are resting.”

  Marcus yawned behind his hand. “I grew adept at going without sleep during my years in the army, but I confess to being weary.” He grinned. “Age catching up with me, I suppose.”

  “Nonsense,” Andrew said. “You are several years younger than me. And I consider myself in my prime. But even so, you deserve a good rest. You have this trip to Greece approaching do you not?”

  “Yes,” Marcus said. “I shall learn more about it shortly.”

  “I don’t expect you to accompany me to Twickenham.”

  “I’ll come, of course, if you wish it.”

  Andrew shook his head. “Better I handle this matter alone. Beth has told me most of what happened, but now, I’d like to hear the rest from you.”

  Marcus obliged with what he had discovered and gleaned from Ramsey while they dueled.

  “Good Lord. The man is mad! You are known to excel at sword play, but if it had been me, I would have shot him,” Andrew said bluntly. “I’m not entirely sure I still won’t.”

  Marcus doubted his friend would resort to violence. “Ramsey told me you accused him of cheating in Paris.” Marcus had wondered if the story was true. Andrew was an indifferent gambler.

  “True enough.” Andrew said. “A young Frenchman, Oliver Benoit was my secretary in Paris. It shocked and distressed me when he put a gun to his head and ended his life. A friend had witnessed Ramsey playing Vingt-et-un with Oliver. Ramsey ruthlessly bankrupted him. I was so angry and upset I went to observe Ramsey’s play during several nights. I became convinced he was cheating. I watched as he targeted another unfortunate young stripling who had just inherited a large sum of money. I couldn’t allow that to continue. Dammit. My blood was up, Marcus. I liked Benoit! He was a young fool, but Ramsey was a poisonous blood sucker, who I had discovered, preyed on foolish young men. So I played a few hands with the baron, and
when my luck was in, the blighter began to draw cards from the bottom of the pack. He was good, but I still caught him at it. And accused him of it.”

  Marcus was aware that the word of a duke carried as much weight in France as it did in England. Ramsey would have been disgraced and known as a cheat in all the gambling houses in France.

  “Ramsey denied it, of course, but many men knew it was true,” Andrew said. “I expected Ramsey to repudiate it, to threaten me with retaliation, but like the coward he is, he escaped Paris with his tail between his legs.”

  “Hasn’t he taken up cheating again in London?”

  “He wouldn’t dare take that risk in gentlemen’s clubs, but maybe the gaming hells,” Andrew said.

  “What do you plan to do?” Marcus asked. “Will you ask the Marquess of Strathairn to accompany you?”

  “Tempting. John was remarkably efficient in ridding Castlebridge of a murderous fellow years ago, but there’s no time for that. And I’d rather see to Ramsey myself.” He narrowed his blue eyes. “I’ll enjoy it.”

  “Ramsey’s as dangerous as a wounded wild animal,” Marcus said. “Let me come with you.”

  Andrew shook his head. “I’ll take Mansfield, a big tough fellow, who is my head groom. In the past he was a pugilist. Maybe we’ll put Ramsey aboard a ship bound for the Antipodes.”

  “If you don’t find him at Whittemore House, he might have gone to his castle in the north.”

  Andrew shrugged. “Then I’ll go after him.”

  “If that is the case, I will accompany you,” Marcus said in a determined tone. “Otherwise, I shall live in regret having failed to dispatch the man to Hades.”

  “If you insist,” Andrew said with the hint of a smile.

  Marcus put down his glass. “The chestnut I mentioned with the four white feet has a rough coat and I don’t like the look of one of its forelegs. Ramsey’s coachman is a ramshackle fellow and there was no groom. The thoroughbred is too good for the likes of the baron.”

  “Like all his cattle, I imagine.” Andrew polished off the last of his wine and stood. “I’d best speak to Jenny and be on my way.”

  Marcus walked with him to the door. “I’d like to see Beth when she feels more the thing.” He tried to sound casual, but suspected the tone of his voice gave him away.

  Andrew glanced at him. “Shall we see you at dinner, or do you have a prior engagement?”

  “I should like that. Thank you.”

  As they entered the hall, Andrew turned to him. “Is this merely a casual interest in Beth’s welfare? Or something more?”

  “Something more,” Marcus confessed annoyed at how astute Andrew could be.

  “Ah.” Andrew slapped him on the back. “I would like nothing better, my friend.” He frowned as Marcus took his hat and cane from the butler. “Beth is unlike your usual run of debutantes. Most of them sheltered little butterflies with their marriage minded mothers in tow. Jenny and Beth’s mother died many years ago. Jenny cared for her brothers and sisters until she came to Castlebridge as governess to William and Barbara. Beth came to live with us soon afterward. Their father, Lord Harrismith, is an avid scholar of history.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Need I say more?”

  “I have an uncle with similar interests. Concerns himself with little more than his books. But whatever her upbringing, Beth is deuced courageous, and smart.”

  “Indeed,” Andrew said slowly. “She’s all that and more. But she has a firm idea as to what she wants from life.”

  “I’m hardly in a position to ask for her hand. Not with this trip to Greece only a few weeks away. And I can’t expect her to wait.”

  “I can see the difficulties, Marcus. I must leave it to your commonsense, and Beth’s should you decide to ask her. Now I must go up to Jenny. We’ll dine at seven. Perhaps a game of billiards or whist afterward?”

  Marcus nodded. “Go cautiously, Andrew.”

  As he returned home, Marcus wondered what reservations Andrew had when he spoke of Beth. He would not want Marcus whisking Beth off to Greece, but was there some other reason he might oppose the marriage? And then there was Beth’s father who must be consulted. By the time he reached his townhouse, he was still unsure what the future would hold. As a suitor, he seemed acceptable. His father, Sir Henry, had been well respected. Andrew too had gained some approval from his work in the foreign office. He was well able to support a wife in comfort as he had inherited a fine estate. Dash it all! He loved Beth! Didn’t his mother say that from the age of two, if Marcus set his heart on something he would persist until he had it? But what of Beth? As he called for his valet to change his clothes, he feared there was too much against him.

  Beth woke, her heart pounding. For a moment, she feared she’d been thrown back into the nightmare world at Whittemore House. Her heartbeat slowed as she gazed around her pretty floral bedchamber. Harrow Court. Safe. She stretched luxuriously beneath the linen sheets and thought about Marcus. When would she see him again? Surely he would come to see how she fared?

  She frowned. What good was it to dream of him? His world was not hers; she would fail if she tried to enter it, and her unhappiness would make him unhappy.

  Beyond the window, the sun was sinking in the west. She’d slept for hours. Eager for news, she left the bed and took out a primrose morning gown from the clothespress. Jenny always implored her to have a lady’s maid, but she’d grown up without the need for one. She was used to looking after herself. However, it would be nice to have Lilly as her maidservant.

  Once dressed, she went in search of Lilly in the wing on the floor above, where the women servants’ bedchambers were situated. After a brief search she found Lilly in the small attic room allotted to her.

  Lilly grinned as she tidied her hair before a small mirror. “Oh, miss, such a clean place. So comfortable. And I’ve been given such nice clothes to wear.” She pointed a red slipper and turned around in her blue dress holding out the long white apron. “Such fine material.”

  “It might take a while to learn how things are done,” Beth said. “But I am so pleased you are here. You won’t miss your mother?”

  “I cannot stay with ’er, she lives in a small room over a shop. I’ve been sending a little money each month.”

  Beth sat on the bed. “You can continue to send her money, Lilly. You are to be my lady’s maid, here in London and when we return to Castlebridge.”

  Lilly’s eyes widened. “A lady’s maid? Well, I never.” She frowned. “I can sew, miss. Me ma says I’m good at it. But won’t that put one of the upstairs maid’s nose out of joint?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m not the lady of this house.” She smiled. “And please call me Beth. I do hope you’ll be happy here.”

  “I’d be most ungrateful if I wasn’t, wouldn’t I… Miss Beth.” She returned to the mirror and put on her white mob cap. “I must go down to the servants’ hall. It would be a bad beginning to be late for supper.”

  Beth left her and descended the main staircase to the blue salon. She found Jenny seated on a floral chintz sofa by the window, an open book on her lap. She stared into the deepening dusk. “Andrew hasn’t returned from Twickenham.” She bit her lip. “He’s been gone for hours.”

  Dread tightened Beth’s stomach. “I’m sure he’ll come soon.”

  “I expect so. Mr. Nyeland will be here for dinner.”

  Beth caught her breath. Really, she must not allow the very mention of Marcus to disturb her, she told herself, she only wished to thank him again. “Mr. Nyeland is a good man, Jenny, and so terribly brave.”

  “Mm?” Jenny looked at her without really seeing her. She shook her head as if to clear her mind. “Oh, yes. He is! Andrew and I are profoundly grateful to him for returning you safely to us.” She shut the book and rose to place it on the table. Standing at the window she pulled back the curtain to gaze at the curve of gravel driveway. “I wish Andrew hadn’t gone in the curricle with only a groom!”

  “He must be confident he ca
n handle the situation, and he would wish to be inconspicuous. He will be here soon, dearest.” Beth swallowed the lump in her throat as she came to stand beside her sister, slipping an arm around her waist.

  Jenny sighed. “I just want to put this frightening business behind us. We should go up and change for dinner before Mr. Nyeland arrives.”

  When they came down again dressed in their evening gowns, it had grown dark and Andrew still had not returned.

  They had not long to wait before the butler announced Mr. Nyeland. He strode into the salon, and Beth’s pulse quickened. When his calm brown eyes met hers, she felt a little reassured. He was so solid and dependable, and so very handsome in his evening clothes.

  “Please do sit, Mr. Nyeland,” Jenny said.

  They sipped wine and chatted, but all the while listened for the sound of a carriage. After warmly thanking Marcus and praising his swift actions, Jenny questioned him about what had taken place at the old house. He did his best to answer, but Beth could see he didn’t want to describe what had happened between him and Ramsey.

  “Marcus was remarkable, Jenny. His skill at swordsmanship was superb. Ramsey didn’t have a chance.”

  Jenny’s gray eyes widened, supposedly at Beth’s warm response and her casual use of Marcus’ given name.

  “You remained to watch the bout?” Marcus raised an eyebrow. “I thought we agreed you and Lilly were to leave the grounds. Come to think of it, you didn’t get very far, did you?”

  “Well, I…” Beth firmed her lips. “I did stay to watch.”

  A faint smile tugged at his mouth. “I should have known.”

  She felt herself flush. “I am glad I did. You were magnificent.”

  “Hardly that, but thank you.” His brown eyes sought hers, making her warm all over.