Regency Romances for the Ages

by Grace Fletcher

“I have to go.”

  With barely a look at either Portsmouth or Albie, she hurried out of the café, leaving Albie staring where she had been sitting.

  “She actually turned you down?”

  Albie sighed heavily. His good mood had gone. “Yes, she did.”

  Portsmouth stared at him as if he had never seen his friend before. From his nearby table, he hadn’t been able to catch the conversation, but he got the gist when Christabel got up and left.

  Albie was glad it was his friend who had seen this and not Baroness Laurie. He felt a right fool as it was. Christabel had turned his proposal down and had practically run away from him.

  At least he hadn’t seen anyone he knew in the café of he would be truly. Even more. It was bad enough that he had been jilted by Clarissa without Christabel running out on him.

  Portsmouth snorted in slight disbelief, shaking his head in wonder. “I didn’t think she was that fussy.”

  Albie scowled at his friend. “Do you mind?” He kicked at his cane, knocking it up into the air before he caught it. “And I thought she did love me.”

  “It sounds like she did, though.”

  “You weren’t close enough to hear us.”

  “Just close enough to know that she asked for a few more months before you asked her again. Which is what you should do.”

  “Oh, I can give her a few months.” Albie shook his head. “I just want to know why.”

  “Same here.”

  “You weren’t asking her to marry you.”

  “No, but you’re my friend and I consider Christabel a friend. She’s a good person.” Portsmouth frowned. “She’s got me all confused. I thought I knew her.”

  Albie thought so, too. But clearly he didn’t. If he really did know her, then he wouldn’t be proposing right now.

  They reached the end of the road. Albie looked up. He was planning to walk across the street and go down the alley to the club where he could drown his sorrow in several drinks to soak up his embarrassment.

  That had been his intention. But when Albie saw Christabel hurrying across the street and going down the road, away from them, he had a different plan in mind.

  “There she is.” He nudged Portsmouth and pointed. “She hasn’t gone far yet.”

  Portsmouth saw where he was looking. Then he gave Albie a surprised expression. “You’re not going to follow her, are you? Albie, are you mad?”

  “I have to.” Albie knew he was being silly, but he had to know what was going on. “I want to know why she turned me down now. She has a secret, Portsmouth, and I want to know about it.”

  Portsmouth still didn’t look happy. “She might not speak to you again.”

  Albie growled and started off down the street. He was going with or without his friend, Albie didn’t care either way. Portsmouth could walk away if he wanted, but Albie simply couldn’t.

  When he heard footsteps behind him, he knew that his friend couldn’t resist finding out what was going on either.

  Christabel hurried along the road and turned left into a slightly rougher part of the city. That gave Albie pause for thought. What was she doing going down there? This area of London was not safe for anyone who even closely resembled money. Christabel wasn’t a countess, but she was certainly not fit to be going that way.

  Nevertheless, the chivalry in Albie forced him to keep going, Portsmouth close behind him. They were very much out of place here and got several strange looks. Albie ignored them. He was more focused on the woman ducking into a tavern ahead of them.

  They reached the door and saw that it was busy with several people of the lower classes. If the two of them went into the tavern, they would stick out like sore thumbs. Albie went over to the window and peered in, wiping away the grime. What he saw made his heart sink.

  Christabel was in another man’s arms, her arms around his neck as he held her tightly. They weren’t kissing but Albie guessed they must have missed it. Then they withdrew, smiling at each other, and the man, a young man Albie’s age with hair the same colour as Christabel’s, helped her into her chair before sitting opposite. The smile Christabel gave him was sweet, affectionate.

  Much like she smiled at him.

  “So, that’s it.” Portsmouth leant against the window frame with a shake of the head. He didn’t look happy, either. “She prefers the other man.”

  Now Albie knew why she had turned him down. She did not want to let the other man go. He turned away, realizing that it was Clarissa all over again.

  He had been duped for the second time. And this time felt even worse than before. Clarissa had never invoked a reaction like the one he was feeling towards Christabel. It made Albie feel sick.

  “Get me out of here, Edward,” he croaked. “I need some brandy. A lot of it.”

  Chapter 7

  The Truth

  C hristabel knew she was going to see Albie at the ball tonight and it was going to be awkward. It had been two days since she had turned down his proposal and begged to be asked again in a few months. Somehow, she knew that Albie wouldn’t do that.

  Christabel had blown it. All because she was more concerned about her brother. If Albie found out about James and what was going on, he would be calling the constables to arrest him. Christabel wanted everything with James cleared up before she accepted anything.

  Now she had a feeling Albie would turn away from her. And Christabel didn’t want him to do that. She adored the man. More than she adored James. He was quick-witted, funny, and he had pulled back on the compliments. They seemed to bounce off each other and Christabel even managed to finish off Albie’s sentences. That had never happened before.

  And she wouldn’t find that again.

  So it was with a heavy heart Christabel entered the ballroom. The place was thriving, and it was packed. Christabel could feel it closing down on her, but she kept herself together. Even if Albie was chilly towards her, being near him made Christabel feel better. She hadn’t realized that she didn’t like confined spaces, especially when it was crowded. Having Albie near her kept her grounded and less panicked.

  But when she saw Albie across the room, talking to a beautiful young woman Christabel had never seen before, he barely gave her a glance before he turned away and focused on the girl who was lapping up his attention. Christabel’s heart sank when she saw this. She had completely blown it.

  Maybe if she could find Baron Laurie, who had already disappeared into the smoking room, she could pretend she was unwell and go home. It was better than being in a room where she wasn’t wanted.

  “Miss Townshend.”

  Christabel turned. Portsmouth was standing near her. He had a scowl on his face that Christabel had never seen on him before. Albie’s friend was a pleasant person who never frowned. But he was more than frowning—his expression was so dark he looked like he was a thundercloud.

  Christabel saw him as a friend herself but this was not the place to address it. And from the look on his face, Portsmouth would certainly not accept it. She dropped into a curtsy.

  “My Lord.”

  “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. Oh.”

  What was that about? Christabel frowned at him but Portsmouth’s expression didn’t change. She straightened up and nodded towards Albie across the room. “Is there something wrong with the Duke of St Albans? He seems a bit out of sorts.”

  “You could say that.” Portsmouth’s voice said that was an understatement. He coughed and held out an arm. “May I have a word with you in private?”

  Christabel hesitated. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to go. But she couldn’t turn him down. Portsmouth looked like he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. She laid a hand on his arm and allowed Portsmouth to walk her down the hall. He opened a door and Christabel saw they were entering a study. “What? We can’t go in here. It’s not…”

  “It’s empty, and it’s private. No one will come in and bother us.” Portsmouth shu
t the door and leant against it, his arms folded as his scowl deepened. “Tell me everything honestly, Christabel, and I’ll leave you in peace.”

  “What is this about?”

  “Is the reason you turned down Albie’s proposal because you have another man on the go?”

  Christabel started. She felt like Portsmouth had slapped her in the face. “What? What are you talking about?”

  “Are you in love with someone else?”

  “Of course not. There’s no one else.”

  “Why do I not believe you?”

  Christabel scowled. “Think whatever you wish,” she snapped. “I don’t have another man in my life.”

  “Then why did you turn the duke down? He’s upset. And we saw you with another man in a tavern the same day you turned down his proposal.” Portsmouth’s jaw tightened. “He thinks you’re the Countess of Norwich all over again.”

  Christabel could feel the blood going from her head. They had followed her to her meeting with James? They knew about James? Her legs felt like they were going to give way. Christabel staggered over to a chair and sat, her heart feeling like it was trying to stop. “I… I would never do that,” she said faintly.

  “He thinks you have.”

  Here it came. Christabel had sworn to James that she wouldn’t say anything about him at all to anyone. But she was cornered and Albie needed to know the truth. He wouldn’t listen to her, but he would listen to his friend.

  She swallowed and braced herself, squaring her shoulders as she looked up at Portsmouth, who still leant against the door. She was trapped until she told him everything that much Christabel knew.

  “I didn’t go to meet a man who has my affections. That… that was my brother.”

  She watched as the angry scowl changed to total bewilderment. Portsmouth looked like he had been hit over the head. “Your brother? I didn’t realize you had a brother.”

  “My parents disowned him when he was nineteen. He was abroad when they passed.” Christabel’s hands twisted in her lap. “He’s the only family I have.” She was going to be in big trouble. It was bad enough that she was confessing to having a brother no one knew about, but she was about to tell Portsmouth about the trouble James was in. This was stepping into dangerous territory.

  “Why are you meeting him in taverns?” Portsmouth demanded. “Why don’t you meet him in your front room?”

  “Because Baron Laurie doesn’t want him around. If he knew I’d been conversing with James all this time, he would throw me out of the house.”

  “Then why wouldn’t you accept the Duke of St Albans’s proposal?” Portsmouth demanded. “If he’s your brother and not your lover, why wouldn’t you be Albie’s duchess?”

  Christabel bit her lip hard enough that it hurt. “Because James is in a spot of bother. I want to help him out before I think about marriage to anyone.” She looked down at her hands and saw that she was making marks in her skin with her nails. “Besides, I don’t think I’m marriage material for a duke.”

  “Don’t be so sure.” Then before Christabel could respond, he added, “Why didn’t you tell Albie about all of this?”

  Christabel was gnawing so hard on her lip she thought it was going to split. She managed to stand and lift her chin defiantly at Portsmouth. “Because it’s nobody’s business but mine. I only told you because you wanted me to be honest. And please, don’t say anything to him.”

  “But…”

  “Not just yet. I want to sort things out before anything else.” Christabel gave him a pleading look. “Please, Portsmouth.”

  Portsmouth was clearly torn. Albie was his best friend and Christabel knew it would be difficult for him to keep something like this from the duke. But then Portsmouth’s scowl returned, and he nodded grudgingly.

  “All right. I can’t promise anything, but you must tell St Albans as soon as you can.”

  “I know,” Christabel said miserably.

  And she would. Just not yet.

  Christabel knew it was getting too much. She had to get James out of London before Albie came snooping. Portsmouth would tell him by soon, Christabel didn’t trust the Duke of Portsmouth to keep this to himself for long.

  She had to get James out of there as soon as possible. Or he was going to be arrested.

  Chapter 8

  The Arrest

  C hristabel hurried out of the study and found Baron Laurie on his way to the ballroom. She claimed that she was feeling faint and wanted to go home. The baron didn’t question it, merely pointed her towards the carriage.

  Christabel didn’t go home. She told the driver to take her south of the river. James was holed up in a stingy boarding house, waiting for the right time to head out. Christabel knew he was going to head out to Cornwall where he could blend into the background. But that wasn’t for a few days yet.

  That would have to change.

  Christabel saw when she was at her destination and hopped out of the carriage before it had even stopped. She ran inside, barely stopping to greet the landlady when she opened the door, and hurried up the stairs. James opened the door in his shirtsleeves on the third hammering. He looked like he had been sleeping, his dozy look turning into one of surprise.

  “Christabel? What are you doing here?”

  Christabel hurried inside, grabbing at James’ suitcase. “You need to leave, James.”

  “Leave?” James was still by the door, staring at her as if she had gone mad. “What do you mean, leave?”

  “Leave London. It’s getting too dangerous for you to stay here.” Christabel put the case on the bed and opened it. Then she darted around the room, grabbing at James’s clothes and tossing them into the case.

  James shut the door and crossed to the bed. “I was going to move on in a couple of days.”

  “Not in a couple of days, James. Now.” Christabel stopped and turned to her brother. “People are beginning to get suspicious of me.”

  “Who?”

  Why was he not moving? Christabel growled and began packing again. “I had to turn down a marriage proposal because of you, James. He’s getting suspicious.”

  “What?” James looked perplexed. “You’re getting rid of me to get a marriage proposal?”

  “I doubt I’ll get it again because he believes you’re my lover.”

  “What?”

  “He thinks you’re my lover. If he tries looking for you, he’ll find out the truth.”

  James was moving too slowly for her liking. He didn’t seem to comprehend that he was going to be caught if he stayed much longer. Finally, James snapped out of his trance and snatched up his jacket. “All right, fine. I’ll go. Just so my dear little sister can have a husband of her own.”

  Christabel rolled her eyes. “Shut up and go!”

  She slammed the suitcase shut and locked it, shoving it in James’s direction. James shoved his feet into his shoes and hurried out, Christabel close behind him. If she could get her foster father’s carriage to take him to a post on the outskirts of London—after swearing him to secrecy—then James could get out of there.

  It was a stretch but Christabel would do whatever it took to keep James safe.

  Christabel didn’t see the constable lurking by the horse talking to the driver. James was starting to put his suitcase into the carriage when the constable stopped him.

  “Are you James Townshend, sir?”

  James froze. So did Christabel. How did he know? How had he managed to figure out where they were? James recovered first.

  “No, sir. I think you have the wrong man.”

  But the constable shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  Christabel saw three men appear out of the shadows and approach James from all sides. She looked desperately at the carriage driver, but he was doing a good impression of a statue, not looking at anyone.

  “You’re under arrest, son.” The first constable turned James around and tugged his arms behind his back. “For murder.”

  “What?”
James struggled, but the bracelets were already on his wrists. “Wait, let me go! Please!”

  “James!” Christabel flew down the steps and tugged at the nearest constable’s arm as he led James towards another carriage further down the street.

  “Leave him alone! Please, leave him alone.”

  “Come away, miss.” The first constable grabbed her and pulled her away, his grip firm but gentle on her arms. “We have to take him to the jail.”

  Christabel’s heart sank. This couldn’t be happening. “No! James!”

  But James was already in the carriage, which was hurrying away down the street. Christabel could hear James yelling for her.

  The constable let go of her and looked at her curiously. “What’s a respectable girl like you doing with a murderer?”

  “He’s my brother.” Christabel could feel herself shaking and it wasn’t the chill of the evening. “And he didn’t do anything.”

  “Miss Townshend, he smashed a bottle over a defenceless man’s head.”

  “They were in a fight. It was an accident.” Christabel snorted. “That’s hardly murder.”

  The constable stared at her like she was mad. He sighed, not looking happy with what he had to say.

  “Miss, I don’t know what your brother told you, but he was saving his own skin. The fight was long over by that point. Your brother lost the fight, and he went back into the tavern and attacked the man with a bottle when his back was turned.”

  That wasn’t what James had told her. He had mentioned the fight and the death but not the gap in between. Christabel tried to protest but saw the truth in the man’s eyes. He wasn’t lying to her.

  Had James been lying to her the whole time? Had he really killed someone in cold blood? Christabel began to shake even more.

  “How did you know where he was?”

  “Had it on good authority to trail you.” The constable indicated the carriage. “Would you like me to escort you back to your residence?”

  Christabel didn’t want to go anywhere except after James. She wanted to know he was going to be all right. But she had to go home. The baron and baroness were going to find out about this, and Christabel knew she was going to get into trouble.