by Mary Nichols
‘A nabob. Grown fat and rich in India, just as you did,’ Freddie said resentfully. ‘While I slaved as a common soldier, frozen with cold, half-starved, you were enjoying a warm climate and opulence, able to come and go as you pleased.’
‘I could not come home, any more than you could. And that warm climate was more than warm, it was damned hot, like a furnace. The fevers that went with it were the equal to anything you had to endure, believe me. But now is not the time to speak of that. Where did you meet Sir Arthur, if not in India?’
‘I was introduced to him in Paris at the end of last year. I had been taken prisoner in Canada and they shipped me back to France. He was what was called an intelligence officer; he questioned nearly all the prisoners, those that were half-educated, that is. He wanted to know why I, who was obviously a gentleman, was serving as a private soldier, so I told him. It seemed to amuse him…’
‘I’ll wager it did,’ Ralph said grimly.
‘He told me I could earn my release by smuggling.’ He gave a cracked laugh. ‘Smuggling has been going on in these parts for centuries. Nobody thinks anything of it.’
‘So you agreed?’
‘Wouldn’t you? I was going to be brought ashore not five miles from my own home and all I had to do was bring in some diamonds. He explained that he had amassed a fortune in India, but employees of the Company are not allowed to bring the profits of their trade back to Europe, it has to be done in a roundabout fashion, through Turkey and France. He had converted most of his wealth to precious stones and got most of them out as far as Paris. He wanted me to take them the rest of the way. Of course, there would also be brandy and wine as a sop to the locals who would be needed to get the boat in. His brother-in-law, Gaston, was sent in ahead to recruit those.’
‘And that was all? He did not ask you to spy?’
‘No, he did not and I would not have done it.’
‘But you did agree to kill me.’
‘I agreed, but I couldn’t do it. I’ve had any number of opportunities since I returned, but I could not bring myself to it. I kept thinking what good friends we had once been…’
‘Not such good friends if you could call me out over a chère amie who meant nothing.’
Freddie was breathing heavily because of the speed they were going. ‘I was an ignorant fool. But you made me so angry with your arrogance, making me feel insignificant…’
‘I am sorry for that. It was not intentional. It was simply that I was older than you and considerably bigger.’
‘Oh, you were undoubtedly that. I could not beat you at fisticuffs, or with a rapier, but with my father’s pistols I stood a chance.’
‘Would you have killed me, then?’
‘Would you have killed me?’
‘No. How could I? You were my friend.’
‘Then you have your answer. I told Lydia not to interfere. I told her to go back to bed and say nothing, but the silly child decided to creep out after me and try to stop us herself.’
‘Lydia,’ Ralph said, conjuring up a picture of her as she had been when he met her in the clearing the first time. So desirable. And so angry. He had been angry too and stupid. He wished he could expunge that memory, but it continued to haunt him. ‘She always wanted to join in our games.’ He laughed suddenly though it had a hollow ring. ‘She still does.’
‘The last thing I wanted was to involve her,’ Freddie said. ‘But there she was, out on the beach, watching us. And she had picked up Gaston’s coat and retrieved the package which was meant to be used to pay the local contact.’
‘What happened to him?’
‘I do not know. I assume he drowned. You know what the marshes are like. It’s easy enough to fall into deep water. He may have thrown his coat off in an effort to save himself and the coat drifted down to the beach where Lydia found it. Makes no odds, it’s back with its owner. Along with Lydia.’
‘If he has harmed a hair of her head—’ He stopped speaking, but his pace quickened until he was running. ‘She won’t marry him, will she?’
‘I don’t know.’ Freddie was running too. They left the old road and followed a path which led to the back of Sir Arthur’s mansion. ‘She might think she has no choice.’
‘Then pray we are in time.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Stop it, what did you think? I can’t let her throw herself away on that fiend to save my neck or yours. I would rather die.’
‘You are in love with her yourself,’ Freddie said, suddenly realising why Ralph was in such a hurry.
‘Yes. We have to stop that wedding.’
‘If it ain’t too late,’ Freddie said morosely.
‘You had better pray it is not,’ Ralph muttered grimly. ‘Or I might be tempted to hand you over with the others for trial. So, are you with me or against me?’
‘With you. You do not need to ask. But we could do with more help.’
‘I believe there is some on the way.’
Sir Arthur’s mansion loomed in front of them and Ralph stopped, breathing heavily. ‘Where would he be holding her? Which room?’
‘Somewhere in the back wing, I think. He keeps the front of the house for his public face, the solid worthy citizen. And he would not want his daughters upset.’
‘How many men does he have?’
‘The servants, of course, though how loyal they are I do not know. There’s young Daniel and Joe, but Joe is safe in the hands of Robert Dent, I hope. And the Comte de Carlemont. I think he’s really the one in charge. He was Gaston’s contact, the man who arranged for the goods to be moved and paid for.’
Ralph had forgotten about Robert and his promise of men from London, secret service men, no doubt, and though he would value any help, he wanted Lydia out and sent home with her brother before they arrived. His only interest was in seeing that Thomas Ballard was put away. ‘Lead the way,’ he said.
There was a glimmer of light in one of the downstairs rooms, but the thick curtains were drawn and they could see nothing of the interior. ‘It’s a small parlour,’ Freddie whispered. ‘It’s where I was given my meals while I was a guest of Sir Arthur these last two days and where we sat and talked. I reckon that’s where they are. That door leads into a corridor and the room is off that.’ He pointed to a door a little further along the building.
‘Will there be a guard?’
‘There hasn’t been before. He’s seems completely confident of his position in the county, able to fend off awkward enquiries with a well-turned phrase.’
They froze as the sound of a horse and carriage came to them from the front of the house. ‘Who’s that at this time of the morning?’ Ralph demanded, more to himself than to Freddie. ‘Go and have a look. I’m going to see if I can get in the house.’
‘Aren’t you afraid I’ll bolt? Or warn them?’
‘You love your sister, don’t you?’
‘Naturally I do.’
‘Then go.’
Freddie disappeared, leaving him to creep stealthily towards the door. Silently he turned the handle. It was unlocked. He was inside in a flash and feeling his way along the corridor which was lit by a lamp turned low. Let her be safe, he prayed, as he put one foot carefully in front of the other. He stopped suddenly when he heard voices on the other side of the door he was making for.
‘You took your time.’
‘I am not accustomed to being dragged out of bed at some ungodly hour, unless for a death, but I am assured by your boy that no one is dead, or like to die…’
‘No, it is a happier task I have for you. I wish you to perform a marriage ceremony.’
‘At five o’clock in the morning! Sir Arthur, are you run mad?’
Ralph let out his breath slowly and silently. It had not happened yet. The parson had not liked being brought from his bed and had taken his time. Oh, blessed, blessed relief.
‘Not at all. I have my reasons.’
‘I should be interested to hear them.’
&nbs
p; ‘I hardly dare tell you, sir, but I know I can rely on your discretion. The young lady in question took it into her head to visit me alone and late at night, so foolish, so indiscreet, but understandable, don’t you think? Her mama was intent on sending her to London for a few weeks and she did not want to delay the wedding. To save her reputation, I hit upon the idea of sending for you—’
‘Quite.’ The tone was clipped as if he did not quite believe it, but was not going to argue. ‘Where is the young lady?’
Ralph, listening outside the door, caught his breath again. Lydia was obviously not in the room with them, but where was she?
‘She has gone upstairs with my sister, to pretty herself up. She was rather dishevelled, you understand. I will send up for her.’
Ralph just had time to dodge back down the corridor and slip into another room before the door was opened and Sir Arthur himself emerged, shouting for Daniel who ran to him from the front of the house. ‘Go and tell Mrs Sutton to bring Miss Fostyn down,’ he instructed the boy.
Ralph waited. When Lydia came down the corridor towards him, he would grab her and bring her in here out of harm’s way while he tackled Sir Arthur. How many other people were in that room beside Sir Arthur and the parson? There would be Mrs Sutton and the boy, Daniel, and that was more than enough for one man to take on. Where was Freddie? He should have joined him by now. Dare he wait? Dare he allow Lydia to go into that room and let the proceedings begin?
Daniel came rushing headlong down the corridor, skittering on the polished marble. ‘Sir Arthur! Sir Arthur! She’s gone and Mrs Sutton knocked on the head and locked in.’
In the pandemonium that followed, Freddie arrived from the front hall and Robert with him and, behind him, several burly strangers. While the parson looked on in utter astonishment, they proceeded to round up Sir Arthur, the Comte and the protesting Daniel.
‘Lydia,’ Ralph said. ‘I’ve got to find her.’
Leaving Robert and his men to deal with the practicalities of transporting the criminals to prison, Ralph dashed out of the front door, his only thought to find the woman he loved and never let her out of his sight again. If she would have him. Just because she did not want to marry that murderous traitor, did not mean she would accept him.
There were no large trees in the grounds and the open parkland stood deserted in the rosy light of a new dawn. He ran round the house to the back. Here the path led to the old Roman road and on along the edge of his wood, past Mistress Grey’s cottage and on to the home park of Colston Hall and thence to the dower house. With all the activity going on, with secret service men and smugglers blundering about, had she made it safely back home? Oh, how clever of her if she had!
But he had to know. He could not go another hour without speaking to her. He set off at a run. He was just passing Mistress Grey’s cottage when the door opened and the old lady stood there. She must have dressed hurriedly, for the top button of her bodice was undone and her white cap on askew. ‘My lord, if you are looking for Miss Fostyn, she is here with me.’
He halted, turned and followed her back into the tiny living room of the cottage. ‘Where?’
‘Upstairs, asleep. She was distraught and exhausted, crying out that the woods were full of evil men intent on murder. It was some time before I could winkle the story out of her, but she told it in the end. All of it. She was so exhausted I persuaded her that she should rest. I told her you would not be such a goose as to let yourself be murdered and I would watch out for you and warn you.’
‘Thank you, Mistress Grey, you have my heartfelt thanks,’ he said. ‘But you will be pleased to know that the criminals have all been apprehended.’
She looked worried. ‘Master Frederick too?’
‘No, I think he might be on his way home now.’
‘Oh, the relief! Now I think it is time Lydia went home herself. Will you take her? She is convinced there is a killer behind every tree.’
‘Of course. I have been out of my mind worrying about her.’
‘I thought you might,’ the old lady said, with a knowing smile. ‘She is upstairs.’ And she nodded her head in the direction of a door which led to the tiny curving staircase.
He bounded up it and tapped on the door at the top. There was no reply. Fearing that she had once again slipped out on her own, he lifted the latch and opened the door a crack.
Lydia had heard the stairs creak and sat up, drawing her knees to her chin and pulling the bed covers up round her so that nothing showed but a pale white face and huge luminous eyes. Had they found her? Even here, where she thought she was safe, had they overcome her dear friend and were even now coming to take her back to Sir Arthur? She would fight, she would fight tooth and nail to prevent it. She watched, mesmerised, as the door opened slowly.
‘Lydia. Oh, my love.’ He was across the room in two long strides and gathered her into his arms. ‘I’ve been out of my mind, worrying about you. When I brought Annabelle back and she told me you were not in your bed—’
‘You found Annabelle? How is she?’
He smiled ruefully. ‘Somewhat chagrined. But we are not talking of that naughty miss, but you. I thought I’d lost you. Why could you not have stayed at home, as I told you to? Anything could have happened…’
‘Oh, it was terrible. Sir Arthur…’ She shuddered. ‘Ralph, you must not go out again, he is determined to see you dead. It has something to do with India, though I did not understand the half of it.’
He smiled. ‘One day, I will tell you. But there is nothing at all to be afraid of, not any more. Sir Arthur and his accomplices have all been arrested for treason. Robert and his agents are taking them to London, even now.’
‘All of them? Oh, Ralph, Freddie was with them. Oh, I cannot bear it. Poor Mama.’
‘Calm yourself, sweetheart, he helped to round them all up and is on his way home.’
‘Truly?’ Her lovely eyes were alight with joy and his breath caught in his throat so that he could only nod his assent. ‘Oh, I am so relieved. How can I thank you?’
‘Oh, I can think of a number of ways,’ he said, recovering his composure. ‘First, will you ever forgive me for that kiss?’
‘Which kiss?’
‘The one in the wood, when I hurt you. I was angry and… Oh, you cannot know how I castigated myself for that. But I was profoundly sorry as soon as I had done it. If you could forgive that…’
‘I forgive you,’ she said, smiling shyly.
He felt the tight knot inside his chest begin slowly to unravel and for the first time in hours—no, days—he allowed himself to relax a little. ‘Thank you. I thought I had lost any chance I might have had with that.’
‘Chance?’
‘That we might end our enmity.’
‘Oh, that. But I need forgiveness too, you know,’ she went on. ‘I wanted to hate you, I had taught myself to hate you, because, to me, you were all wrong and Freddie completely in the right. How could I have been so foolish? It took me until two days ago to admit how mistaken I was. And by then I realised I was in love with you and Freddie was back and mixed up with those men and—’ She stopped, suddenly realising what she had said, and he was grinning from ear to ear.
‘What did you say?’
‘I said Freddie—’
‘No, not about Freddie, about loving me. Did you mean it?’
‘Yes.’ She felt her cheeks colour at her admission, but she could not deny her true feelings. ‘I thought it was the umbrella man I loved, I told myself he was kind and gentle and amusing, and the Earl of Blackwater could not possibly be any of those things and… Oh, say you do forgive me for all those years when I nursed my hatred. It hurt nobody more than myself.’
‘If you insist, I forgive you, but I do not think there is anything to castigate yourself for.’ She had said she loved him; his heart soared with joy. ‘Now, though I could continue this conversation for hours, there are other things to discuss. Sir Arthur, whose real name is Thomas Ballard, is in disgrace
and may even hang for his crimes. No one will expect you to honour your engagement.’
‘I am free?’
‘Yes. There will be no wedding, not to him at all events.’
‘Oh.’ She heaved a great sigh of relief. ‘But what about Annabelle and Mama and—?’
‘They will be looked after.’ He smiled and kissed the top of her head. ‘If you marry me.’
‘You?’
‘Yes. Will that be such a sacrifice?’
‘You know it will not. But, Ralph, you do not have to… You have been punished enough…’
‘Then you must marry me, for to turn me down would be the worst punishment of all. I love you. I think I have loved you since I first saw you in Chelmsford sheltering from the rain in that doorway.’
‘Oh, Ralph!’ She put her arms about his neck and kissed him. He smiled and ran his finger round her face, so gently, so tenderly, she knew that the umbrella man and the Earl of Blackwater had always been the same man, though she had been too blinded by her animosity to see it.
‘Is that a yes?’
‘Oh, yes, yes, please.’
He lowered his mouth to hers, tasting her lips, sweetly and lovingly, and her response was all he could wish for. It was some minutes before he gently disengaged himself.
‘Now, my love, I am going to take you home. Your mama will be worried about you and you need to sleep. Later, there will be plenty of time to talk about the future. Our future together.’
‘Yes,’ she murmured. ‘All the time in the world.’
ISBN: 978-1-4592-4324-8
THE HONOURABLE EARL
First North American Publication 2003
Copyright © 2001 by Mary Nichols
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.