Quiet Meg

by Sherry Lynn Ferguson

  “You’ll be going to my grandmother’s, with one of her men-Alphonse, just here” He nodded to a sturdy gentleman outside, mounted on an equally sturdy brown horse. Alphonse held the reins for another saddled giant. “Grandmere expects you. She lives some miles away. You must hurry.”

  “But I thought we would be … That I would be going with you”

  “Not just now. We must lead Sutcliffe from you. And I must know you are safe”

  “When will you come for me?”

  At that he paused, long enough for her to lose heart.

  “Perhaps tomorrow. I shall send word if I’m delayed.”

  Her vision was blurring.

  “Shall I now call you Chas-as your cousin does?”

  The question seemed to hurt him. He sighed deeply as he tilted her chin with his free hand. This time his mouth met hers, fully and hungrily. She knew why he had not kissed her before. When he raised his head, she opened her eyes. She knew her gaze accused him. He could not leave her now; he should not leave her now. Not after this.

  But he turned from her. As he strode back into the hall he signaled his cousin David, who moved with alacrity to take Meg out to the waiting horseman. The major gave her a hand to help her mount.

  “Do not worry, miss-ma’am,” he amended with a smile. Touching his hat he returned quickly to the tiny stone house. And Meg followed Alphonse in the rain.

  “So that was Meg Lawrence,” David said. “And I thought I had sobered up.”

  The silent group in the carriage eyed him tolerantly.

  “It makes no difference,” Hayden advised him languidly. “She is as she is.”

  Chas closed his eyes as he leaned his head back against the upholstery. There was much to be endured, yet he felt he had done enough. He would not soon forget the way she had looked at him. He had needed all his discipline to leave her.

  Hayden knocked twice on the carriage roof, and received one knock in return.

  “We are pursued,” he said. “Still one rider.”

  Chas looked at Annie, sitting to his side in Meg’s blue cloak.

  “Annie, we are returning you to Sir Eustace and Lady Billings. You must stay there tonight. We want Lord Sutcliffe to believe your mistress is at home with her family.” He pulled a note from his waistcoat. “Please deliver this to Sir Eustace. It explains all-that I have married Meg and that she stays tonight with the Dowager Duchess of Braughton. Did Alphonse collect her things?”

  When David nodded from the seat opposite, Chas again leant back. There had been much to plan today. He prayed Meg would safely reach his grandmere, who had promised to send word to him at White’s should Meg fail to arrive. If all went well, Chas would hear nothing. They hoped thus to limit the number of messengers who might be intercepted and quizzed.

  “Sir-Mr. Cabot,” Annie said. “Mr. Cabot, I don’t rightly know what to do with this.” She held out a letter addressed in a clear, elegant hand. “Miss Meg asked me to get it to you after she’d gone, once she’d gone to him. I guess it’d be yours now anyways.”

  Chas accepted the note carefully, as though it were a talisman.

  “Thank you, Annie.” He kept it in his hand. Had she explained, in writing, what she had so reluctantly revealed in person? He doubted it.

  His thumb passed repeatedly over the paper as they traveled in silence back to Lady Billings’. The rain had stopped, but the chill had grown. It would be a cold night and, Chas realized, a cold morning.

  Before Annie moved to leave the carriage, Chas stopped her.

  “Annie, I must ask you not to speak of this to the household.”

  “I won’t, sir.”

  “And if you would, find Mr. Bertram and send him out to us, or send someone to tell us where he is to be found.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  Hayden helped her out of the carriage, showing her the courtesies he would have shown were she indeed Meg, such that the footman’s mouth was agape as Annie swept up the steps to the door.

  Chas had the carriage lanterns lit as they waited for word of Bertram. He broke open Meg’s letter and quickly read it.

  “Sir.” A footman knocked at the side of the carriage. “I am to tell you Mr. Bertram is dining out with a friend. Do you wish to send a message to him?”

  “Ask him to meet Lord Hayden’s party at White’s as soon as he is able. That is all.”

  The footman bowed. As the carriage started up Charles glanced at Meg’s letter again. `I thought I would have more time to make amends.’ He leaned his head back against the seat once more, and looked across at his cousins. They were observing him with matching, blue-eyed concern.

  “I’ve been unmanned,” he noted ruefully, slowly folding Meg’s note and pocketing it.

  “I should think you would be the opposite,” Hayden drawled.

  “In the poetic sense only, Hayden” He glanced out the window. “If there were more time …”

  “Second thoughts, Chas?” he asked.

  “No-there was no other course” Chas glanced briefly at him. “This would have happened one way or another.” Again he sought the view outside. “Although this business of ricocheting about in a carriage all evening leaves much to be desired. I could do with a good night’s sleep.”

  “Did she explain-why she went to him?”

  “A small mistake in judgment. She thought Sutcliffe could be trusted” Hayden looked his disbelief as Chas wearily passed a hand across his forehead. “All she had to do was nothing,” he added on a sigh.

  “An impossibility, Chas-for a woman”

  “When did you become such an authority on the ladies, Hayden? Come to think of it-you were alert to Lucy and Harry early on as well.”

  “I’ve simply been observin’,” Hayden said. He glanced at his brother, who had spoken only the once. “Haven’t you recovered yet?”

  “I shall never recover,” David said. “To find my angelonly to have her appropriated by my cousin-and my little cousin at that!”

  “‘Tis all in the family,” Hayden said lightly.

  “I am not so little anymore, David,” Chas said. “In fact, I believe I have a good inch on you”

  David’s glance dismissed the possibility.

  “I think I shall have to beat you, Chas”

  “You are welcome to try. Given my present condition, Hayden would probably grant you the odds.” They had at last pulled up in St. James’s. “Speaking of which, what are the odds running now?”

  “Eight to one-Sutcliffe’s favor,” Hayden said promptly, following him out of the carriage.

  “And have you made your wager?”

  Hayden smiled.

  “I cannot reveal my methods”

  “You are the devil, Hayden”

  “Not quite. Though I know you expect to encounter him here tonight.” They shared a meaning look, then Hayden led the way into his club.

  It was still early, but the inclement weather had brought many indoors. Despite the crowd, the Marquis of Hayden commanded his usual corner table. They were soon out of their wet cloaks and hats, supplied with wine and some approximation of dinner, and once joined by Hayden’s friend Demarest, played privately and contentedly at whist. The normality of the pursuit restored Chas to some semblance of balance. He did notice that a bemused David appeared to be looking everywhere other than at his cards.

  “You would be doin’ us a favor, major,” Hayden said mildly, “were you to pay more attention to your hand.”

  “I can see nothing before me but an angel’s face”

  Hayden glanced to Chas, who was trying to concentrate on the game, then looked back in frustration to his brother.

  “Either play or leave,” he said coldly. “But stop bawling.”

  The reprimand brought David up short. Chas suspected his cousin was still not quite to rights, a situation that owed less to meeting Meg than to a week of celebrating.

  “I would be glad of your company, David, if you can forgive me,” Chas told him. “She m
ight soon enough be available.”

  David looked stricken. Mumbling an apology, he rose and surrendered his cards to an eagerly waiting George Gillen.

  “I shall just take a turn,” David said, and Chas occasionally glimpsed his regimentals as he circulated the rooms.

  Chas knew he was not playing well; he was too aware of the other activity in the club. Any unusual noise set him on edge. But at least no message had come from his grandmere; Meg had reached her house in safety.

  “Dash it all, Hayden!” Gillen complained as he and Hayden took yet another trick. “Why are we playin’ for pennies?”

  “Because that is my mood this evening, Gillen,” Hayden said affably. “I find no particular virtue in the amounts. D’ you wish to withdraw?”

  “Oh, no, no. Not at all. Just wondered.”

  They were attracting an audience, solely because of their dedication. Anyone coming upon them would have thought that the stakes were very high indeed.

  Eventually David returned, to all appearances having dipped too deep. As he leaned to whisper something to his brother, Hayden pulled away from him in distaste.

  “You are a disgrace, major!”

  “Pardon,” he mumbled, and carefully sought a seat behind Hayden and Chas. Given the earnest concentration at the whist table and among its onlookers, Bertram’s cheerful arrival, accompanied by his round-faced sparring partner, was strangely disruptive.

  “Allo, Cabot! Lord Hayden.” He bowed to Hayden. “Allo, Gillen, milord Demarest. This is m’friend Chick Hugh, the pride of pugilists! So what’s a-foot?”

  “Lawrence, meet m’brother.” Hayden casually tilted his head toward David’s slouching form. David rose unsteadily.

  “My pleasure, my lord,” Bertie said, bowing smartly.

  David waved that away.

  “You’re her brother, then?” he asked.

  Bertie laughed.

  “I’ve three sisters, milord. Which d’you mean?”

  “Lawrence,” Chas interrupted. His own voice sounded odd to him, as he had been silent for some time. “Come sit next to me a minute. Perhaps you might advise me on my hand”

  As his stocky friend Chick Hugh readily excused himself to seek a game of hazard, Bertie settled next to Chas.

  “You wanted to see me?” Bertie asked.

  Chas nodded. His hand was so negligible that it scarcely mattered what he played.

  “Lawrence,” he said very low. “I am honor bound to tell you-I have just married Meg.”

  Bertie tried a smile.

  “You’re shammin’ it! Why, she was just at home this afternoon!”

  “I am serious. Hayden and David stood up for me this evening. I’m afraid-it was not entirely her choice.”

  “Not her choice!” Bertie’s smile fled. As he started to rise from his chair, Chas tugged him down. “Why youyou’re no better than Sutcliffe!”

  The conversations immediately around their table ceased. Chas leaned closer to Bertie, in an effort to keep their voices low.

  “That is undoubtedly true. Though I meant her no harm, I may have done considerable-unintentionally.”

  “I cannot believe this of you, Cabot! I have treated you-we have treated you ..

  “Better than I deserve. I am fully conscious of it, Lawrence. It will not matter, I know, but I did it to protect her.”

  “I can protect my own sister!”

  “You could not marry her,” he said simply. “It will help her.”

  “You take too much on yourself, Cabot! Why, I’ve never thought her partial to you at all! If anything, Walter-”

  Chas’ chin rose.

  “It is done,” he said. “She may correct the situation tomorrow if she wishes. I shall not be presuming upon the connection.”

  “Presuming upon the connection! I should say not!” Bertie leapt to his feet. “Cabot, I demand satisfaction! M’sister’s honor!”

  “You shall have to wait in line, Lawrence,” Hayden suggested smoothly. “My brother here wants at ‘im, and I judge there are more to come. Now do sit down like a good fellow. You are my guest, and I should not like to be tossed out with you at the moment. Here, play my hand,’ he rose from the table. “I must have a quick word with LeighMaitland. He has just got to town”

  Bertie, looking flustered, allowed Hayden to draw him unwillingly around behind Chas to the empty seat. He glanced at the hand of cards, then his eyebrows shot high. “I say, Hayden. Are you sure you want … “

  “Play the hand, Lawrence. Well done.” And Hayden slipped quickly into the crowd.

  Chas picked up his new cards. Hayden had been masterful-and lucky. But the problem simmered. Bertie’s glances were resentful. And there was worse to come.

  “Chas,” David said softly behind him. Chas had thought his cousin befuddled. “He is here”

  has had grown accustomed to Sutcliffe’s foul temper. As he looked up from his cards he might have predicted with accuracy that look of scarcely suppressed rage.

  “Mr. Bertram Lawrence,” Sutcliffe commanded, moving to the edge of the table, “I think it time you properly present your friend”

  Bertie glanced up at him, but did not abandon his cards.

  “I wouldn’t present my worst enemy to you, Sutcliffe. In any event, I’d need a mirror for that-and none’s to hand.”

  Sutcliffe sneered, but there was little else he could do. As Meg’s brother, Bertie had a peculiar immunity; he would have to push Sutcliffe very far indeed to bring harm upon himself. That possibility was likely enough, but always, always, Sutcliffe thought first of his objective-Meg.

  Chas forced himself to take a breath, then retired his cards and stood up.

  “You know me, Lord Sutcliffe,” he said evenly. “We are on practical terms. You have spied upon me for weeks.”

  “And why should I not spy-when you dare go where you are not welcome. When you dare trespass against a lady!”

  “That she is still a lady-owes nothing to you.”

  Sutcliffe’s indrawn breath was savage.

  “Cur!”

  In the instant silence Chas heard only the fire, crackling in the hearth. Behind him, David’s chair scraped back as he rose.

  “Sir … Lord Sutcliffe,” he said. “You have the honor of addressing Charles Rainer Cabot, Der Graf von Wintersee.”

  Sutcliffe’s sneer deepened.

  “Do I?” He swiftly surveyed David’s braid. “Roney slaughtered the rest of the poxy Austrian family, did he, Major?” As Chas placed a restraining hand against David’s chest Sutcliffe added contemptuously, “You are quite a novelty, Cabot. A titled heir who plays the cit.”

  “I have my metier. My interests.”

  “Your interests, yes-in dirt!”

  “At least I do not wallow in it.” Cabot made much of rubbing one hand thoughtfully against his chin. “Wie sags Mann? … ein Schwein.”

  Sutcliffe’s eyes fairly blazed.

  “You insult me!”

  “It is gratifying to be understood”

  The earl slapped his card on to the table between them.

  “This can no longer be deemed mal apropos, Monsieur Le Comte. I shall be pleased to extinguish your despicable line-now that we are equals.”

  “Equality with you, Sutcliffe,” and he bowed, “is not something to which I would ever aspire.”

  “Unfortunately for you, Cabot, equality-of a kind-is a state for which you must fervently pray, lest you find yourself deceased. Now sir,” he hissed, “choose your means”

  “Pistols.”

  “And your second?”

  Chas paused. Standing at Sutcliffe’s shoulder, the disconcerting Baron Mulmgren regarded him with chilly satisfaction.

  “I stand his second,” Hayden said, his voice carrying clearly from behind Mulmgren. Both Sutcliffe and Mulmgren had to swivel about to view him.

  Sutcliffe’s gaze narrowed.

  “I have no quarrel with you, Hayden. You needn’t involve yourself.”

  “Oh, but
I think I must. Chas bein’ family an’ all.” It was a pointed little reminder-that Sutcliffe challenged the house of Braughton as well. Though Chas had not doubted it, he felt an instant pride.

  “Lord Mulmgren speaks for me,” Sutcliffe said abruptly. And with a curt nod to Hayden, he turned and left.

  Chas watched Hayden and Mulmgren remove to a far corner of the room. Given Sutcliffe’s history, Mulmgren must have served this function for him many times before; indeed, Chas suspected the baron welcomed the role. Sour Mulmgren actually looked animated. Hayden was less seasoned, but Chas was confident his cousin knew his preferencesand the protocol-as well as anyone.

  Chas swept Sutcliffe’s card dismissively from the table and sat down to play. But Bertram was staring at him as though he had never seen him before, and Demarest and Gillen were clearly more interested in watching their idol Hayden across the way than in renewing the game.

  “You must think me very stupid, Cabot,” Bertie whispered. “I beg your pardon.”

  “You could not have known.”

  “I should have. By all rights, I should be the one-”

  “No. I’ve rights as well now, Lawrence”

  Bertie swallowed, then nodded.

  “Meggie-does she know?”

  “Unfortunately, yes”

  “She is safe?”

  “She is at home.” Chas glanced around the room. He could say no more here at White’s, where Sutcliffe might have unknown allies. He turned to look at David, who was also watching his brother in conversation. Chas noted that David’s gaze was too vividly alert-for someone supposedly in his cups.

  “You missed your calling, major,” Chas told him very low. “You should be treading the boards with Kean.” And David dared to wink at him.

  Hayden returned after less than five minutes. Mulmgren was already slinking out the door.

  “We are set,” Hayden said, gesturing easily with an elegant hand. “Lord David, I believe I should see you home. Demarest, Gillen-keep the table, should you desire it. Lawrence-you’re welcome to stay as well. I note your cheery friend Mr. Hugh is in thrall to hazard. And Chas?” Hayden looked at him through lowered lids. “What is your pleasure?”