Love Regency Style

by Samantha Holt

His passenger said, “Don’t concern yourself, Websly. You and I have traveled far worse roads than this.”

  “Aye, that we have sir, but this is in a sorry state, it is.”

  “So it is, but I don’t think we have much further to go,” Sir Edward answered thoughtfully as he peered through the darkness of his open window and surveyed the passing landscape eerily lit up by a waning moon.

  He could see shadowy trees and bushes trailing beside the unkempt road. He had a great deal to think about, but leading the list was the minx of a woman child and her name was as bright as her smile. Star. How had he caved in to his basest needs and taken her? If he wasn’t so in love, he would be a cur…a cad…a…but he did love her and before long she would be his, and his alone.

  He sighed. His, she was his, and damn, bloody damn, no one would rest her away from him. She was his and he was…dash it all to hell, he was hers. This is what the Lady Babs had meant when she told him one day he would fall in love and he would know it.

  It was as though he had always been looking for Star. It was as though a secret thread reached out of her heart and found his and weaved a net around it just before he was thoroughly reeled in.

  The problem was Jules.

  Jules thought he wanted her and now, there was nothing, not even his honor, or his loyalty that would allow Jules to have her. Star was meant for one man, and he was that one man.

  He had wanted to see her this evening, but business had kept him in Hastings longer than he had anticipated. He didn’t complete his business with his bank until well into the evening. There had been nothing for it but to have dinner and then proceed home, taking a road that was not the main road, but he remembered that it was a shortcut to Stamford Manor.

  Suddenly Websly sounding worried called out, “Bless me, Sir Edward…there is a tree blocking the road! Oi don’t loike the looks of it…no Oi don’t.”

  “What are you thinking, my man?” Sir Edward had already pulled out his horse pistol and put it ever ready in his lap.

  “Has the taste of wickedness, it does,” Websly said in grim tones. “Oi’ve got m’gun handy.”

  Sir Edward reached into his satchel and pulled out another smaller gun and stuck it into his belt. It would be hidden by his cloak. A third gun went into his boot. He had a great deal of experience on the road and knew just how to thwart an attack as did Websly.

  “Can you get around the tree?”

  “Aye, with some effort…but Oi’ll have to get down and lead them careful not to ditch em on the side of the road.”

  “Aye, slow down then man and I’ll get out as well,” Sir Edward said. “That’s it, just enough for me to get out for I mean to get a lay of the land.”

  Sir Edward’s eyes roamed the area and then he saw the form of a horse and rider quietly make its way out of the woods. Hurriedly he hid behind the trees alongside the opposite side and smiled to himself. He would not be expected. The high toby would think he was inside the coach and he knew Websly would wait for just the right moment to pull out his own gun.

  A harsh voice muffled by the wool scarf covering the toby’s face called out, “Whoa there, aye then, Oi’ll be thanking ye to pull up, now.”

  Sir Edward’s driver pulled his team to a complete stop and said nothing, his gun hidden beneath his blanket.

  Two more masked riders emerged from the woods. Each took up a stand at the doors of the coach, while another rider appeared and took up position at the back of the vehicle.

  “Now then, whot is it Oi should be saying to the flash cove in there? Aye, right, Oi knows. Eh, Oi say, guv, yer money or yer life…and quick about it, before Oi take both.”

  The toby’s men chortled with laughter. No sound was emitted from within the coach. The toby’s voice sounded angry when next he spoke, “Be ye deaf, covey? Come on then, out wit ye, or are ye quaking in yer boots so much ye have lost yer tongue?”

  The man at the back shouted out, “He must be shaking with fear…just grab him and drag him to the ground.”

  “Aye, mayhap that will be the way of it.” The man in charge pulled open the carriage door and before he had a good look said, “Shake yer shambles and get yerself out here where we might have a look at ye, covey!”

  Sir Edward heard and watched all of this. It would be a tricky business. He would have to be quick and quiet, but it called for immediate action, for it was now or never.

  Before the high toby leader realized there wasn’t anyone in the dark carriage, Edward moved in on foot and caught the toby unaware.

  Sir Edward had him off his startled horse in a thrice and as the toby struggled and tried to recoup his breath, Edward held a pistol to his head and demanded, “On the ground, face on the ground.”

  The toby did what he was told for he knew when a man would as happily kill him as not.

  “He is a dead man if any of you lift a finger to stop me. Understood?” Sir Edward said grimly.

  Websly had his gun out then and pointed it at the man on his right, “Aye then, two of ye will be dead…two and then we’ll make certain we find the rest if ye try and run off.” He looked at the man on his left and made his horses move backward ever so slightly so that the chubby rider would not have a clear shot. “Aye, Oi wouldn’t get one of me own men shot, would ye?”

  The chubby toby called to the rest of the men, “Stand down lads…let’s not be rash, any of us.”

  “Farley…whot do ye want us to do?” called the man at the boot.

  “Damn yer soul, what did ye go and say m’name fer?” Farley lifted his cheek from the dirt and responded angrily.

  Sir Edward’s foot was on Farley’s back but with this he grinned to himself and said, “Well, well, so we meet again, you and I?”

  Farley’s wool scarf had shifted off to his chin and he looked up and around as best he could, “Who might ye be? Do Oi know ye then? Why not let me and the lads go and we’ll call it a night?”

  Sir Edward reached for Farley’s arm and dragged him to his knees. He then took the man’s coat and hefted him up with very little effort to his feet as he said, “Tell your men to throw away their guns.”

  “Do as the flash says, lads…” Farley croaked.

  “Easy, make certain they do it easy. I wouldn’t want my finger to slip while my gun is pointed at your head.”

  “Here now guv…no need for that. Come on boys, you heard the flash…easy.”

  “Aye, and remember me as well fer Oi wouldn’t mind shooting ye one by one and be done…” Websly added to the conversation.

  The three men on horseback complied without another grumble as the coach’s driver appeared to have murderous intentions.

  The guns dropped to the earth and Sir Edward said with deadly seriousness lacing each word. “Now you will remove the tree you so thoughtlessly left in our way.”

  By this time, Websly had jumped from his seat, collected the guns and made each man dismount. He took their horses and neatly scattered them.

  The three men loudly objected and he said, “Be happy if ye come out alive…ye may still be able to walk—so stop yer jawing and get to work to move that tree.”

  Farley started toward the tree and Sir Edward pulled him back by his collar and pressed the muzzle of his gun to his forehead. “Not you.”

  It didn’t take long before the tree was, with some grunting and huffing moved off the road and Farley’s men allowed to go on their way.

  Websly waited till they were out of sight before climbing back onto his box, his gun still handy and Sir Edward pushed Farley toward the open door of his carriage.

  “Look here, flash…no need to take me wit ye. Oi don’t mean ye no harm. We’ll call it square, we will, and all make our different ways.”

  “I think not. You see, I mean to have a little talk with you and if you cooperate, then perhaps I won’t see fit to drop you off at the nearest guardhouse and have them haul you off to prison.” Sir Edward eyed him. “Or I could save myself a great deal of trouble and shoot you dead,
right where you stand and mark me, it is quickly becoming the more attractive choice.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  STAR HELD HERSELF and shivered as she closed the library window and walked away. “Brrr…so cold this morning, unusually so,” she complained to her brother.

  “Hmmm, is it?” He looked up absentmindedly from the Chronicle he was perusing and then resumed reading once more.

  “Yes, and it looks like rain, blast the weather. I need a ride,” she told him.

  “Ah,” he responded not really paying attention.

  “I was thinking of jumping into the pond with all my clothes on and turning into a sheet of ice,” she said looking directly at him.

  “Hmmm,” he seemed to agree.

  “Would you like that? To jump in with me, Vern?” she pursued the topic.

  “Jump…jump in? Where?” he looked at her perplexed.

  “Good, I now have your attention,” she said and plopped down beside him on the sofa. “Tell me, what do you think of Sir Edward?”

  Startled his brows rose. “Sir Edward?” He shook his head, “Whatever do you mean?”

  “Don’t you have an opinion about the man? I am curious,” she said and watched him closely.

  “Well, I don’t really know him, do I?” He shrugged his shoulders, “Seems a knowing fellow and Jules says he is top sawyer.”

  She sighed, “Oh Vern, he is so much more than that. He is…” she saw her brother’s eyes narrow as he looked at her. “He is such a gentleman,” she decided to say.

  “Well, yes and I will tell you that I rather think he is up to every rig. A Corinthian, as well, anyone can see that and I would wager he practices in the ring…handy with his fives. I could tell by the way he carries himself.”

  “Yes and his seat…he rides beautifully…” Star added. “And Vern…his eyes, he has such speaking eyes.”

  Vern sat up straight, “Does he, by God! And have they been speaking to you?” He wagged a finger at her and before she could answer him, continued in an admonishing tone, “I’ll tell you what, m’girl, I don’t know him all that well, but I know that you are, for all your managing ways, just a green chit and not up to his rig! He’ll break your heart, and not even know he has done it.”

  She contemplated her brother for a long moment and said, “Yes, I suppose you are right, except he would know because he is up to every rig as you have said. I suppose he would chalk it up to a conquest when he wins a woman’s heart.”

  “Star, do not tell me you have already lost your heart to him?” Vern seemed genuinely worried.

  “Well…never mind, I just think that he is quite…exceptional and yes, I have flirted outrageously with him and enjoyed it,” that was all she was telling Vern. How could she tell him she had already succumbed to the man’s charms and her desires?

  “Stay away from him,” Vern told her sharply. “Jules is the man for you and have a notion he means to come up to scratch very soon.”

  “Do you? I think he has had second thoughts and I think that is because his attention has shifted to Georgie. He quite stares at her at times,” Star said with a soft smile.

  “And that pleases you?” her brother asked on a frown. “Georgie and I…”

  “Will not make a match of it. She won’t have someone she thinks of as her brother, so do get over that…it is not about to happen.”

  “Never mind, Georgie and me. This is about you,” he said.

  “Oh no, it is not,” she laughed and started to get up from the sofa. He pulled her fingers and stayed her.

  She eyed him and he said, “You know Miles wants to marry you…and I know you don’t think of him as a brother.”

  “No, not quite a brother, but a dear, very dear and womanizing friend. I am not for him and he certainly is not for me,” she answered.

  “You know, he has quite set a record he told me and has not kissed a maid for two weeks as he is planning on getting down on one knee for you,” her brother said and barked a laugh.

  She giggled, “Absurd, isn’t it? Miles and me? He shall want Marcia next month and faith! I can’t even guess who will be next. He hasn’t lost his heart to me, but one day, he will lose it to someone…hard. One day he will meet his match and be thoroughly besotted.”

  Vern laughed, “You know, I do think you are in the right of it there.”

  Dilly appeared at the library doors in a mop cap and bright eyed. She seemed more than usually flustered to Star as she bobbed a quick curtsy and said, “Begging yer pardon, Miss and m’lord, but there be a man at the door who won’t go away. Oi told him ye wasn’t in, but he said he would wait.”

  “Who is he, Dilly?” Vern asked with a puzzled expression.

  “He says his name is Mr. Port and that he is from yer bank. Says it is urgent.”

  “Does he?” Vern’s chin was up. He looked at Star, “We are in for it now, sis.” He turned back to Dilly, “You did quite correctly, Dilly, in attempting to put him off, but I am afraid, I shall have to see Mr. Port.”

  Dilly sighed and turned to go, as Star touched her brother’s arm and said, “What do you think he wants?”

  “Money, sis. ‘Tis time to pay the piper…and I am not sure how we may do that,” Vern answered.

  “Will it be very awkward, do you think?” Star asked worriedly as she attempted to compose herself and smooth her hands over her faded soft green morning dress.

  “If he has come out to us in the wet cold with the promise of heavy rain, I am afraid so,” Vern answered. “Star, you needn’t be here. Don’t subject yourself to this. Go on to the sewing room and busy yourself.”

  Her brother was only just getting back his strength. Why did this have to happen now? She smiled at him and said, “You know I can’t sew to save my life. Mama tried and tried to teach me and I am all thumbs with the needle and thread. So I might as well bear you company, for I do have a head for business and might be able to help you with anything he throws at you.”

  “Yes, you do have a good head for business. You manage the stud fees beautifully, but I am afraid, this will be beyond our ability to handle. I tell you what, you being at my side…well, you are deuced good company and the best sister any man could ever hope to have. I only wished I had been better equipped to take care of you.”

  “Stop, you are perfect just the way you are,” she answered and turned as Dilly had arrived and announced, “Mr. Thomas Port.”

  Brother and sister looked around and found a small elderly man clothed the loose-fitting attire of a summer weight dark blue coat. His hair was white, thick and fell around his long face with great disorder when he removed his top hat. His eyes were blue and seemed to hold a gentle expression, Star thought as she met his gaze. His waistcoat was a pale shade of gray and his pantaloons were a darker shade of gray. He looked from Vern to Star as he went forward and said, “Miss Berkley, you won’t remember me, since the last time we met you only reached your father’s coattails. It is, however, for me, very nice to see you again.” He turned to her brother who had stood up and went forward to take the banker’s hand. “Ah, my lord, how tall and fine you have become.”

  “It would appear that you have the advantage of adult memories over us,” Vern said with a warm smile.

  Mr. Port nodded, but as a sigh escaped him, Vern’s brows drew together and he said, “Come…do sit and be comfortable with us, I shall ring for coffee.”

  “No, no refreshments, thank you. I have come on a serious matter. In fact, it quite breaks my heart and my spirit to be put in such a position.”

  “Oh?” Vern said.

  “Berkley Grange has fallen on sad times, but do you know, your father always managed to bring it around, and I feel that you shall too, my lord.”

  “That is most kind of you, but please, I know that is not what you are here to tell us. My sister and I believe in frank speaking. Do be at ease, we are prepared to hear what you have to say,” Vern told him. Star felt so proud of him, thinking this had to be difficult for her bro
ther.

  Mr. Port had taken a seat in the old leather bound winged chair, placing his worn hide satchel beside his feet.

  Vern sat once again with his sister on the sofa and brother and sister watched the flitting grim expressions pass over Mr. Port’s face. He said finally, “I am afraid I am here on some very grave and disturbing business. I am not certain how this came about, as apparently it took place in our Hastings Office…and the matter was completely out of my control.” He shook his head, “Not that I could have prevented it from going forward, you understand?”

  “What sir, do you mean?” Star asked suddenly feeling a sick sensation in the pit of her stomach.

  “As our letter indicated last month, my lord…Miss Berkley, that the mortgage your father took on the Grange just before his death…well, the payments on the mortgage had, as you know, fallen terribly behind. The main branch…in London demanded that we call in the mortgage, but we managed to stall them while his lordship here made a few payments. Our branch discovered that we could stall them no longer…and only found out when we received the London Edition of the Chronicle that Berkley Grange’s mortgage was available for purchase…”

  “What?” both brother and sister screeched as one.

  “And, it pains me to tell you that the mortgage for the Grange was indeed purchased yesterday. Our bank no longer holds or controls it.”

  “And who does?”

  “I don’t yet have the paperwork from our Hastings Branch, but I will send round that information as soon as I do. Your payments, their respective amounts and required collection will be totally in the hands of whoever now holds the mortgage.”

  Chapter Twenty

  A FEW MILES away, at the Stamford residence, Sir Edward’s mind worked frantically to solve the puzzles he had laid out for his own edification.

  He had allowed the scoundrel Farley to live.

  Had that decision been the wrong one? He had wanted to avoid a scandal which might have arisen had he killed the man in cold blood. Questions might have gone forward and an investigation might have exhumed truths that might have led to Star and her brother. He hadn’t wanted to chance that.