Regency Mischief

by Anne Herries

  ‘You may force me to be your wife—but I shall never love you.’

  Nicolas stared at her in silence for a moment, then turned and walked from the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Lottie sank to her knees, covering her face with her hands as she wept.

  Nicolas woke and groaned as he felt the pain in his head. He looked round and saw that he was the library, where he had gone to get drunk after the bitter quarrel with Lottie. He had said such things to her—but it was Lottie who had delivered the most telling blow.

  She wished she had never met him.

  Why had he gone after her and forced the quarrel on her?

  He had been so angry when he discovered what she had done. Larkin had given him the money and reported what the man said, though pretending not to believe a word. Nicolas had been furious, though he could do nothing about the man’s impertinence. Lottie was in the wrong. Had Blake told his tale to someone else, Lottie might have been in some trouble for helping a fugitive.

  Nicolas regretted that Blake had been shot while trying to run away. He had remonstrated with Larkin, but the other keepers backed up the man’s story. Blake had been warned and he had struck one of them before making his escape. Larkin’s action was within the law. The posters offered the fifty guineas’ reward dead or alive—and Larkin would no doubt share the blood money with the others.

  Leaving the library, Nicolas felt the bad taste in his mouth. It was partly down to the drink he had taken after Lottie walked out on him earlier, but also the unpleasant feeling he had that someone was pulling the wool over his eyes.

  Could Lottie be right about the keeper? He walked up the stairs into her sitting room and saw her curled up on the daybed, fast asleep. Why was she not in bed? Had she been frightened that he would enter her room and force her to do her duty?

  His wicked, wicked temper! She must have thought that he was threatening her, telling her that she must do her duty as his wife and give him an heir. He had behaved in a disgusting manner—and the worst of it was he could not be certain that he would not give in to temptation if he continued to sleep in the next room. He knew that seeing her every day would drive him mad if he could not have her. The memory of her warm body close to his and her sweetness pricked at his heart.

  She hated him now.

  He must go away, remove his unwanted presence.

  Lottie would not miss him. She had shown herself perfectly at home here, and after the way he had spoken to her the previous night, she would be glad to see him go.

  ‘I am so sorry,’ he said softly. ‘I would beg you to forgive me, but I don’t think I could bear to see the disgust in your eyes. You will be better off without me.’

  By forcing her into a marriage she clearly regretted, he had ruined Lottie’s life.

  He walked into the dressing room and found some water, dipping his face in its coolness. He would leave as soon as it was light, taking only a few things with him. His town clothes were in London and the sooner he was gone the better. He would write to Lottie from London, tell her she could do pretty much as she pleased here, and he would instruct his agent before he left that Lottie was to have complete control. It was small recompense for what he had done to her, but he must hope she would forgive him in time. He could do little about Sam Blake—but he would make some enquiries about Larkin.

  Nicolas’s mouth drew into a thin line. He would send a couple of Bow Street Runners down here to keep an eye on the man—and someone to watch over Lottie. If the man was a rogue, he might try to harm her.

  Nicolas hesitated. Should he stay here and try to make it up with her?

  No. He shook his head. There was no point. She must hate him. To see scorn in her lovely eyes would destroy him. It would be best to end this now before he was in too deep. He would have Larkin investigated and make sure she was protected—but she need know nothing about it.

  Lottie woke feeling stiff and with a neck ache. She sat up and looked about her, wondering why she had been sleeping on the uncomfortable sofa when she had a soft bed. As the memories flooded back, she frowned. She had sat here and cried herself to sleep, too miserable to seek the comfort of her bed.

  She had had such a terrible quarrel with Nicolas. They had both said cruel things—and she regretted it bitterly. To argue with the man she loved over something that was not truly his fault was foolish.

  Lottie hated the system that allowed men like Larkin to shoot another man with impunity just because he was a wanted fugitive. Sam Blake might have been a poacher, but he was a husband and the father of three children. What must his poor wife be thinking now?

  She decided that the first thing she would do this morning was to visit Lily and apologise for what had happened. Lily might resent her because she was the wife of the man whose keeper had shot her husband, but in time perhaps she would forgive and accept Lottie’s help.

  She would ride over with one of the young grooms, and on the way back she would take another look at the Hollow. Lottie intended to ask Nicolas again if he would consider cleaning the place up—or at least give the occupants alternative accommodation before he tore down their homes.

  She considered speaking to her husband first, but thought that he might still be angry with her. Dressing in an old riding habit that she had owned long ago, she glanced at herself in the mirror and was satisfied with her appearance. It would be ridiculous to go to a place like the Hollow dressed in something that cost as much as a family might need to live on in a year.

  Nicolas had been generous with her allowance. Lottie doubted that she would spend the half of it, which meant she could redirect it in other ways.

  She left the house and walked down to the stables, making a brief inspection of the horses until she found one she thought looked a suitable mount.

  ‘Would you saddle this one for me?’ she asked a young groom who had tipped his cap to her and was watching curiously. ‘And please saddle one for yourself. I want to visit Lily Blake’s cottage—and the Hollow on the way back.’

  The lad’s mouth opened in surprise. She thought he was about to protest, but then he merely touched his greasy cap and set about saddling the mare she had selected. Lottie waited until he had his own mount ready, then led hers to a mounting block and mounted without assistance. Once her hands were on the reins she felt the mare’s restiveness and knew she had chosen a spirited beast, which was what she had hoped for.

  She glanced at the lad. ‘What is your name, sir?’

  ‘I be Willis, ma’am, and the mare be Red Ruth,’ he said. ‘That ’un ain’t bin out fer a couple of days. She’ll be a mite fresh.’

  ‘Thank you, Willis. I can feel she wants her head, but she will have to behave. I have serious business this morning.’ Lottie smiled at him. ‘Now, can you show me the way to Mrs Blake’s cottage?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ Willis said and grinned. ‘I reckon I can. I like Lily. She’s a good ’un—too good fer the likes of that Sam Blake. Me pa alus did say it.’

  Lottie nodded. The groom moved off and she followed him. They walked the horses until they were clear of the yard and then broke into a trot. She felt her horse pull, as if it wanted to gallop, but she held her reins steady and would not give into the mare’s desire. On another day she might have done so, but she did not wish to take any risks this morning.

  Lily was red eyed and had little to say when she saw Lottie at her door that morning. Her manner was angry and resentful and the look in her eyes cut Lottie to the heart.

  ‘I don’t blame you, miss,’ she said. ‘You’ve been good to me and I know you would have helped Sam if you could—but the rest of them don’t give a damn.’

  ‘I am sure that isn’t true, Lily. Some people are harsh and poaching is a crime, whether we like it or not, but I am sure a lot of people will think what happened was very wrong. I know you are grieving and angry—but when you are ready, come to me. Let me help you set up your own business in Northampton.’

  ‘Thank you, my l
ady—but I can’t ask for more than you’ve done already, though I am still willing to sew for you to pay my debt.’

  ‘I asked my husband to return the money that was taken from Sam. It is yours, Lily. Please do not be too proud to take it for the sake of your children.’

  ‘I’ll think about it—if it happens.’

  Lottie left her cottage feeling saddened. She could not expect Lily to welcome her with open arms or to accept her apology. Lily’s grief was sharp and it would take time for her to think of a future without the man she had loved.

  The visit was something Lottie had had to do, and now there was something more she must see to—even though she expected an even more hostile reception at the Hollow.

  ‘Are you sure you want to stop here, ma’am?’ Willis asked as they approached the little cluster of hovels. ‘They be a rough lot at the Hollow.’

  ‘They do not have much chance to be otherwise,’ Lottie said. ‘That open ditch is unhealthy and it smells vile. Who would not resent living near to something like that?’

  ‘Just be careful, ma’am. Not that they’ll touch you while I’m around. They know my father and uncles would come back and thrash ’em.’

  ‘Thank you, that makes me feel much better.’ Lottie smiled at him. She did not know it, but her manner and her smile had won her a staunch friend that morning.

  They dismounted at one end of the hamlet, because Lottie wished to see the true condition of the houses for herself. She lifted her long skirt, hanging it over her arm so that it did not drag in the filth. The smell was vile, but she bore it without flinching, though she was amused to see that Willis covered his nose and mouth.

  As she walked the length of the street, people started to come out of the houses. Every now and then she stopped to look at a house. It seemed to Lottie that some of them could be restored, though some would need to be replaced. There was no doubt that it was not an easy project, but she thought it could be done with a little thought and management. The most obvious need was to have the ditch drained and covered.

  Intent on her inspection, Lottie was not aware that the crowd had grown until Willis touched her arm and gave a little nod of his head. She turned and saw that they had all gathered at the end of the street, and one man stood at the front, as if intending to block her return to her horse.

  Their mood was clearly hostile and she could hardly blame them after what had happened to Sam Blake. However, Lottie was in no mood to be intimidated.

  ‘I have seen enough,’ she told Willis. ‘We shall leave now.’ She saw the discomfort in his face and smiled. ‘Do not worry, Willis. I know they are angry, but I do not think they will harm me.’

  As they reached the small group at the end of the street, Lottie saw that Sam Blake’s cousin Dickon was at their head.

  ‘Good morning,’ she said pleasantly in a voice that would carry. ‘I dare say you are all wondering what I am doing here this morning?’

  ‘You shouldn’t ’ave come ’ere,’ Dickon growled. ‘Pokin’ yer nose in where yer ain’t wanted.’

  ‘Unless someone comes, these houses will become nothing but ruins within a few years,’ Lottie said. ‘It is my intention to repair those that can be repaired. Some will have to be torn down, but they will be rebuilt—and we shall begin by putting in drains and covering over that awful ditch.’

  ‘We don’t want yer interference, missus. Clear orf and don’t come back or I’ll make yer sorry.’

  ‘Speak for yerself, Dickon,’ one of the other men said. ‘My wife and baby suffer every winter with the damp; our first lad died of a fever on his lungs. If her ladyship means what she says, I’ll give a hand with the ditch.’

  ‘I intend to start the repairs at once,’ Lottie announced. ‘I shall use local labour if possible—so if any of you have building skills, please let me know.’

  ‘I’ve been a builder,’ one of the men said. ‘And Sid Carne is a roofer. Most of us can use a spade or a hammer. We would have repaired the houses ourselves if we had the money.’

  ‘Anyone who is willing to work should be here tomorrow morning. I shall be bringing my husband’s agent at eight sharp and he will draw up a list of the houses to be repaired and what must be done—and he will pay those who work each day.’

  ‘What about them houses you said ’ad ter come down?’ Dickon asked. ‘Where will the families go then?’

  ‘I shall begin building a little further through the Hollow. As one house is finished, so one of the houses that cannot be saved will come down; we shall start with the worst and continue until the end, though that may take some time. I hope that you will be as patient as you can, for I cannot do it all at once.’

  ‘Give ’er ladyship a chance, Dickon,’ one of the other men said. ‘No one but ’er ’as bothered about us fer years. Let ’er see what she can do.’

  ‘I shall be here tomorrow,’ Lottie said. ‘Be prepared to work. I should prefer that you earned the money yourselves, but of course that is entirely up to you. I can bring in outside craftsmen if I have to.’

  The crowd parted to let her through. Willis helped her to mount and they rode away.

  ‘If you are serious about the building, my lady, my elder brother could do with some extra work. Tom can turn his hand to anything—and I reckon as there will be a few more glad of some extra money.’

  ‘Tell him to be there, Willis,’ Lottie said.

  She could not help feeling a little nervous as she dismounted in the stables and walked into the house. Nicolas might well say that she was interfering in his affairs, and she was—but something had to be done. Lottie was prepared to pay for the repairs with her own money. She just hoped Nicolas would not be too angry with her.

  ‘My husband has gone to London?’ Lottie did not know how she managed to hide her surprise and disappointment when Mrs Mann told her why Nicolas had not come down to nuncheon. ‘Ah, yes, I believe he did mention some business. I was not perfectly sure when he meant to leave.’

  Her heart felt as if someone had taken a knife and stabbed her. So it was all over. He had soon tired of her company and after their quarrel he had decided to return to London—and his mistress, perhaps.

  For a moment she recalled the look in his eyes when she had spoken of Elizabeth. He had looked stunned and then angry, as if enraged because she had dared to speak his beloved’s name.

  Grief and disappointment threatened to overwhelm her. What was she to do with her life now? For a moment it seemed as if there was nothing left to live for—then she lifted her head as pride came to her aid.

  She conquered her disappointment and decided to speak to her husband’s agent after nuncheon. Lottie was a little apprehensive, for she imagined he might resist her ideas for the Hollow, but he listened in silence and then nodded his agreement.

  ‘I told his lordship that some of the houses might be saved, but he was insistent it should all come down—perhaps because of things that happened in the past, my lady.’

  ‘I am not sure I understand you, Mr Masters?’

  ‘The late Lady Rothsay was like you, ma’am. She was forever trying to help people—she took a fever after a visit to the Hollow and died within two days. His lordship was but a lad at the time and I dare say he took it hard.’

  ‘That is sad,’ Lottie said. ‘Surely the best way to prevent something of the sort happening again is to drain that awful ditch and cover it over.’

  ‘I dare say it would help,’ Simon Masters agreed. ‘There will need to be a cesspool to dispose of the… I beg your pardon, my lady. I should not speak of these things to you.’

  Lottie laughed. ‘Who else should you tell, sir? I need to know everything that goes on, because I want the work to start immediately.’

  ‘Then perhaps I should draw up a schedule of works for your approval?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I am not sure how fast I can do all the work, but I want to do as much as I can afford immediately, and then we’ll see.’

  ‘Naturally, the repairs wi
ll come from the estate revenue, my lady. His lordship left orders that you were to have a free hand—I am certain he would expect to pay himself for any repairs.’

  ‘Nicolas said that I might have a free hand?’

  Lottie was surprised and pleased. This was the last thing she had expected.

  ‘Yes, my lady.’

  ‘Very well, we shall begin first thing tomorrow and use as much local talent as we can for the labouring work. Some of the residents may be craftsmen and we must give them the chance, but I shall be guided by your experience in the matter.’

  ‘You may safely leave it in my hands, my lady.’

  ‘Oh, I intend to be there myself at the start,’ Lottie said. ‘I shall be keeping an eye on what happens—and do not let them cheat you, Mr Masters. I want to help them, but they must do a fair day’s work for a fair day’s pay.’

  The agent smiled. ‘Just so, my lady. May I say that I believe things will prosper now that you are here—and perhaps his lordship will take more interest?’

  ‘We must hope so, sir.’

  Lottie returned to the house. It was time to take tea with Aunt Beth. Perhaps by working hard every day and concentrating all her thoughts on the unfortunate people of the Hollow, she could forget that Nicolas had deserted her and that her heart felt as if it had split in two.

  Chapter Eleven

  ‘Lottie, look at the state of you,’ Aunt Beth scolded some three weeks later. ‘I approve of what you are doing for those people, naturally, but I did not expect you would actually work yourself.’

  ‘I helped one of the younger women to move from her house into a cottage Mr Masters found for her on the estate. Once her new house is built she will move back to the Hollow,’ Lottie said and laughed. ‘She has three children and her house is the first to come down. I fear the baby has deposited the contents of his napkin all over my gown. It is just as well I was wearing an old one.’