His Countess for a Week

by Sarah Mallory

  ‘Very well.’ He drained his glass and picked up his hat. ‘Barnes will accompany you, to make sure there are no mishaps on the way. I do not wish my bride to change her mind at this late stage.’

  It was an effort, but Arabella lifted her head and replied coldly, ‘I have given you my word to go through with this.’

  ‘Aye, so you have.’ He leered at her. ‘But you must smile, my dear. If you bring that sad face to the church, I promise you Lord Westray will not live out the day.’

  Arabella was silent. The thought of Randolph made her want to weep, but while there was a chance he might live she must be strong.

  * * *

  At the appointed hour she left the hotel with Lady Meon for a short carriage journey along Piccadilly and into Soho. As she stepped down on to the pavement, Arabella peered out through the heavy lace of the veil, hoping there might be a familiar face close by, some sign that help was at hand, but there was no one. She wished she had put a plea for help in her note to the Roffeys last night, but with Teddington watching her so carefully she had not dared.

  Gazing up at the looming bell tower of the church, she was seized by panic. She considered picking up her skirts and fleeing, but Barnes was standing at her elbow. He would catch her immediately and, if she drew attention to herself in public, she had no doubt they would carry out the threat to kill Randolph. There was no escape.

  They entered the church with Lady Meon beside the bride and Barnes following, blocking her retreat. They stopped for a moment while Lady Meon arranged the veil more becomingly and Arabella looked around desperately for someone, anyone who might come to her aid. There was no one up in the gallery and the church was empty save for the two gentlemen standing with the rector before the altar. She recognised Freddie Letchmore beside Teddington, as his groomsman.

  ‘Come along.’ Lady Meon gave her a little push. ‘Barnes will remain by the door, to make sure we are not disturbed.’

  Slowly, Arabella moved forward. The scene took on a nightmarish quality—even the vicar was smiling as she came to a halt beside Charles Teddington.

  ‘Ah, my blushing bride.’ She looked away from his smirking face as he lifted her veil. ‘We do not need this, do we? I want to see my bride’s beautiful smile.’ He laughed at her stony countenance. ‘Ah, you are too nervous, my love, is that it?’

  Arabella longed to scream out that this was all a sham, but she dared not. Instead she managed the tiniest of nods, resigning herself to her fate. At some point in the future she might escape, when Teddington had lowered his guard, but that would not be for some time. Days, possibly weeks, and not until she knew Randolph’s fate. Before that...she tried not to think of what would happen to her. She clung to the hope that Joseph and Ruth might yet find Ran and save him. It was too late for her.

  The ceremony commenced, the words washing over Arabella in a meaningless tide as she stood beside the groom. The rector had just begun the first prayer when there was a disturbance, sounds of an altercation at the door. Teddington uttered an oath.

  ‘What the devil—?’

  A group of men bustled into the church. One she recognised as Joseph Miller; another was a police constable.

  Then she saw Randolph. Gone were the dishevelled clothes, replaced by an immaculate coat of blue superfine, new buckskins and top boots that were polished to a mirror-like gloss. The only evidence of his ordeal was the bruising on his cheek and a slight stiffness in his walk. The blood had been washed away from his hair and it shone like gold in the sunlight pouring in through the windows. As he came closer, she saw his eyes blazing with blue fire.

  * * *

  Ran strode towards the altar, towards Bella. They had found her! He thought his legs might buckle from the sheer relief, until that was replaced with ice-cold fury for what she had suffered.

  ‘Have we reached the point about just cause and impediment?’ he drawled. ‘Because I know of several.’

  ‘Curse you, Westray!’

  With a howl of rage Teddington hurled himself forward. Joseph would have stepped between them, but Ran pushed him aside. Teddington was a big man, but he was no match for his opponent. Despite his recent beating, Ran’s strength was honed by years of hard physical labour. He blocked the other man’s punches with ease, winded him with a blow to the stomach followed by two more to the jaw that sent his opponent crashing to the floor.

  Ran stood over him, his hands clenched, but the fellow was unconscious. Only then did he allow himself to look at Arabella. She was leaning against the altar, her face as white as her veil, but she met his anxious look with a small, brave smile. She was safe.

  There was noise and confusion around him. Freddie Letchmore was being dragged back from the door by two of Joseph’s hirelings and Lady Meon had retreated into a box pew where a third man was blocking her escape. Miller himself, he noted, was having an altercation with the priest.

  Ran took a step towards Arabella but the rector intercepted him.

  ‘I demand an explanation, Lord Westray, if indeed you are the Earl!’

  ‘By heaven if I haven’t told you everything,’ expostulated Joseph, coming up. He turned to Ran. ‘Dashed fellow is disinclined to believe me, my lord.’

  The reverend gentleman bristled with outrage and Ran put up his hand.

  ‘Yes, I am Westray,’ he said. ‘As my man has explained, we came here to rescue Mrs Roffey before this fellow forced her into marriage.’

  ‘It is true.’ Arabella spoke up, her voice faint but clear enough for everyone to hear, and the priest went over to question her.

  The young policeman Joseph had summoned from the street to accompany them was standing a little apart, looking bemused and faintly alarmed. Ran beckoned to him.

  ‘Here is your man, Constable.’ He pushed the unconscious form on the floor with the toe of his boot. ‘Take him to the magistrate and charge him with affray, to begin with. You had better take Lady Meon and Letchmore, too. My men will help you. You will find another of their accomplices outside the door. A man called Barnes. My men apprehended him, so you had best take him with you, too.’ He stepped aside as the constable helped Teddington to his feet. ‘I will also be bringing charges of abduction and attempted extortion.’ Teddington was standing now and Ran met his sullen glare with a contemptuous smile. ‘And anything else that I can think of.’

  ‘You can accuse me of nothing that equals your own crimes, Westray,’ sneered Teddington.

  ‘Get him out of here.’ Ran waved to the constable.

  He turned away, only to find the priest storming up to him, blocking his way.

  ‘This is all most irregular!’ he blustered. ‘What about the wedding?’

  Ran was impatient to get to Bella, who was still clinging to the altar.

  ‘There will be no wedding,’ he barked.

  ‘Yes, yes, but there are costs to be met!’

  Gently but firmly Randolph put him aside. ‘My man will deal with all that, won’t you, Joseph?’

  ‘Of course, my lord.’

  Having disposed of the last obstacle, Ran crossed the short distance to Arabella and took her hands. She was shaking, so he put his arm round her. To his relief, she did not resist him when he pulled her against him, and he closed his eyes as she rested her cheek against his shoulder.

  ‘Poor Bella,’ he murmured, ‘I wish we could have found you earlier, but it took a while to discover the correct church.’

  ‘You found me in time.’ She raised her head to look up at him, her eyes shining. ‘That is all that matters.’

  Ran could not help himself. He kissed her, hard, and she responded by throwing her arms about his neck, returning his embrace with such passion that the blood pounded through his veins. His arms tightened and he would have deepened the kiss if Arabella had not struggled against his embrace. He released her immediately and she buried her face in his coat, murmurin
g, ‘I think we have outraged the rector, my love.’

  My love!

  Ran had not thought he could feel any happier, but her words caused his spirits to soar.

  ‘Then we should remove ourselves from this place.’ He put his arm around her. ‘We shall leave Joseph to settle everything here and I shall take you home.’

  He led her outside. Joseph and the men he had hired were shepherding Teddington and his henchmen into two of the coaches that were waiting at the roadside. Ran guided Bella towards a third carriage with the Westray crest proudly emblazoned on the door. He had taken her hand to help her into the coach when Teddington broke away from his captors and ran towards them.

  ‘Do you think the jury will pay heed to you, Westray?’ he cried.

  Joseph and the constable grabbed his arms and dragged him back, but he gave a savage laugh, shouting over his shoulder as he was led away.

  ‘You are a convicted criminal, Westray. A murderer!’

  Ran’s jaw tightened in anger. Arabella had stopped with one foot on the carriage step, looking stricken.

  ‘I wish now Joseph had not sent your maid on to Park Street,’ he muttered. ‘Perhaps you would rather return alone.’

  ‘No.’ She clutched at his fingers. ‘Pray do not leave me.’

  ‘Very well.’ He followed her into the carriage and sat down beside her. She was perched on the edge of the seat and looked so ill at ease that his heart twisted.

  ‘You have no need to be anxious,’ he told her. ‘I will take you directly to the Roffeys. You have my word.’

  Her response surprised him.

  ‘I do not want to go,’ she blurted out. ‘I do not want to see them. Not yet.’

  After a heartbeat’s hesitation Ran nodded. ‘Very well. We shall take a turn about the park.’

  * * *

  Arabella stared out of the window as the carriage wound its way through the traffic of Piccadilly. Ran was sitting beside her and she heard him take a deep breath.

  ‘Bella, what Teddington said—’

  ‘You do not need to tell me, Ran,’ she interrupted him. ‘You are a good man. I know that.You have proved it to me time and again.’ When he would have argued she put up a hand. ‘No, please. Let me speak, before I lose my courage.’

  She took a deep breath. Only the truth would do now.

  ‘I love you, Ran. I have loved you from those first days we spent together at Beaumount, only I did not know it. I had made a god out of George. He was my childhood hero, but he was never the man I had made him out to be. I realise now that I only saw one side of him, a face he kept for his infrequent visits to Revesby Hall. When we were children, he was carelessly kind to me. I think perhaps he loved me as he would a sister. He allowed me to join in his games when he was home because there was no one else. But he grew up into a wild young man with no curbs upon his appetites.

  ‘When I went to see Dr Locke about the medicines George was taking, he was loath to talk to me, but I told him I had a right to know the truth, as George’s widow. I insisted he tell me everything, however bad, however shocking. From what he told me, I realised that George attended Lady Meon’s parties because he could enjoy himself without restraint. There was no one to inform his parents of what was going on and he could have his fill of gambling and drink and laudanum.’ She bit her lip. ‘And of women, too.’

  Randolph reached out and caught her hands. ‘Bella.’

  She shook her head. ‘I was shocked, of course, but not overset by the news. I know I have lived a sheltered life, but I am not quite so naive that I do not know of these things. What hurt me was that Sir Adam and Lady Roffey knew of it. Oh, Lady Roffey had kept George’s addiction to laudanum from Sir Adam, but they both knew of his wild living and the—the consequences of it. The fact that he had contracted the pox. They ordered Dr Locke not to tell me. They wanted me kept in ignorance.’

  ‘They were trying to protect you.’

  ‘They wanted to protect their son’s reputation,’ she corrected him. ‘I know they held me in affection, but they were set upon the marriage, despite knowing that the infection would pass to me. And not only me. If George had not steadfastly kept out of my bed, it would have passed to our child.’ She shook her head. ‘I c-cannot forgive them for that. I can never trust them again. That is why I will not return to Park Street.’

  The tears spilled over and Ran pulled her into his arms while she cried.

  ‘It was very wrong of them.’ He pressed his handkerchief into her hands and tried to think of something to comfort her. ‘Do not forget, if they had told you everything, you would not have taken it upon yourself to go searching for the truth and I would never have met you.’

  He cursed his own inadequacy. That thought was a comfort to him, not Arabella. But she was nodding and wiping her eyes.

  ‘There is that,’ she conceded.

  ‘They also refused to hand you over to Teddington, when he threatened to expose you. I believe they are very fond of you, Bella, in their own way.’

  She sighed. ‘You are right. I know it. Yet I cannot bear to live with them again.’

  ‘But to set up your own establishment now would give rise to just the speculation we all wish to avoid.’

  ‘Oh. Yes. Of course.’

  She bowed her head. Her sorrow tore at his heart and he said quickly, ‘Oh, Bella, I would carry you away with me this minute if I could, but—’

  ‘But you d-do not love me.’

  ‘No!’ He caught her shoulders and turned her towards him. ‘I love you more than life itself, believe me!’

  She shook her head. ‘How can you, knowing there is so much s-scandal attached to me?’

  His bitter laugh cut at her like a knife. ‘If we are to talk of scandal, yours is nothing to my own. Remember, I am a killer!’

  ‘Hush.’ She reached up to cup his face. ‘You paid for your crimes with six years of your life, Ran.’

  ‘That does not make them any less serious.’ When she protested, he raised his hand to silence her. ‘No, you must hear me out, love. You accuse the Roffeys of not being honest with you—I would have no secrets between us.’

  He settled her on the seat beside him and lapsed into silence, staring out of the window, but Arabella did not believe he was seeing anything beyond the glass.

  She reached over and took his hand, saying softly, ‘Tell me, then. Tell me what happened.’

  They had reached the park by now, but although the sun was shining, it was not the fashionable hour and there was no traffic on the drive.

  ‘In many ways I am no better than your late husband,’ he said at last. ‘I, too, was a slave to opium, when I was a young man. I used to take a great deal of it and I was encouraged to do so by a sneaking fellow who befriended me and made me a tool for his villainy. Sir Sydney Warslow. I was a mere baron then, but my family had some standing in the world and he used me to gain entrée into society, so he might pass off his counterfeit notes. I was contemptible. No more than his puppet. Even when he threatened Deborah, my sister, laudanum made me powerless to help her.’ He stared down at their linked hands. ‘Not only that, I almost destroyed Gilmorton. The man who saved her. The man she loved.’

  Arabella held her breath. She wanted to stop him, fearful that his confession would be too much for her, that she might not be able to forgive his past deeds, once she knew exactly what they were, but there was no going back now. She remained silent and waited for him to continue.

  ‘I owned a warehouse near London dock, the remnants of my family’s shipping business. Warslow used it to hide the counterfeit notes he planned to release into the capital. I knew it was wrong and I wanted to put an end to it, but Warslow ensured my silence by keeping me drugged with laudanum. We were at the warehouse when Deborah turned up, looking for me.

  ‘Warslow attacked her. He thought I was unconscious, too fu
ll of opium even to care what was happening, but I was not. I knew I had to protect her, or at least to try. We were on some sort of balcony, and when I rushed at him, we both fell against the rotted railing. It gave way and we went over the edge together. Warslow landed beneath me. He broke my fall, but he was killed.’

  ‘You had not intended to kill him.’

  ‘He was dead, nevertheless, and we were in my property, surrounded by forged notes. Gil, Viscount Gilmorton, arranged for me to be spirited away to France.’ She felt his fingers tighten on her hand. ‘He was in love with Deborah, I was her brother and she loved me, little though I deserved it. Because of that he was prepared to take the blame to save me. That was when I finally came to my senses. I gave myself up. I was convicted of manslaughter for Warslow’s death, but the passing of counterfeit notes was far more serious. I should have been executed, but by turning King’s evidence and, I suspect, with a little help from the Viscount, my sentence was commuted to transportation.’ He looked at her, his eyes dark with grief and guilt. ‘I was a damned fool, Bella!’

  Her heart went out to him.

  ‘You were, but you paid the price for it.’ His smile was perfunctory. She said, ‘I want to marry you, Ran, if you will have me. If you think we might be happy.’

  ‘Happy!’ He looked at her, hope beginning to lighten his eyes. ‘You think we might be happy, even though you know the worst of me?’

  Daringly, she climbed on to his lap.

  ‘The worst and the best, my love.’ She wound her arms about his neck. ‘So, will you marry me, darling Ran?’

  His kiss gave her the answer and this time there was no priest to disturb them. Her lips parted beneath the onslaught of his mouth; her body trembled with the delightful sensations he roused deep inside her. When at last he raised his head she leaned against his shoulder, gazing up at him through half-closed eyes.

  ‘Must we wait to be married?’ she whispered, her voice husky with desire.