Regency Romances for the Ages

by Grace Fletcher

  They reached the end of the tunnel, and Catherine clambered out of a grate into a large moonlit field. Drake, with his hair poking one way and another, with his elegant dinner jacket now coated with dirt, climbed out after her. She looked at him and suddenly had the urge to burst into giggles at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. She controlled herself, just barely, and only because she suspected the giggles would soon turn into sobs, given her emotional state.

  Drake, looking at her, noted that covered in dirt, she looked like a gem that had just been dug out of the ground. Instinctively, he raised a finger to her cheek and wiped off a bit of dirt only to leave a smear, for his own hands were filthy. Somehow, she turned, so that her face rested in his hand, and he thought he saw the glimmer of a tear under her eyelashes.

  Reaching down, he did what he knew he would soon regret and stole a kiss from her in the moonlight.

  Chapter 7

  The Stolen Kiss

  S he was conscious only of his lips, and the softness of them, that contrasted so with the hard hand on her cheeks. She was conscious only of reaching towards him, and leaning into his embrace, with her hands finding his head and burying themselves in his hair.

  Then, she drew back, appalled. She was not only kissing the man who had threatened to ruin her family she was enjoying it tremendously!

  Drake pulled away from her abruptly, and paced away, then back. He raised his head and looked as if he was about to say something when they were interrupted by the sound of footsteps.

  A tall, thin man with an uncharacteristic potbelly appeared, breathing heavily.

  “Harland!” exclaimed Drake.

  “M’lord,” Harland said. “I’ve been looking for you. Sir Peter and Lady Laura are in the coach. We must make haste.”

  “Yes. Of, of course.” Drake said, his breath shaky. He looked as though someone had just hit him over the head with a cast iron pan. He turned back and offered a hand to Catherine, who made it a point to refuse, and walked in front of him. He moved ahead and held her hand anyway, tracing the lines on her palm with a finger. He looked up, and said, “Forgive me. I did not mean to take advantage of you. I was just-”

  But she shook her head, refusing to speak of it.

  “Forgive me too, the coarseness of your hands. Crawling in the tunnel has created a callus or two.”

  “I am proud of my hands.” She retorted. “I would have no use for fine, delicate hands. My hands do good work. Each callus is a result of my hard work, and I am proud of it.”

  He looked up, interested, and then observed her palm again. “Is that true?” he asked. “Is it a result of being taught by the old masters, then?”

  “Yes,” She said. “They taught me to sculpt.”

  “I would love to see your handiwork someday,” He said.

  She was about to tell him that he had no cause to wait when she was stopped.

  “M’lord.” An anxious Harland interrupted. “We really must go. Sir George’s men might catch us!”

  “Of course. Let us make haste.”

  They soon reached the side of the road where a coach sat waiting, and inside, met with Peter and Laura.

  “My goodness, you’re both a mess!” cried Laura. “Have you been rolling in the dirt then?”

  “Something close to it,” Drake confessed. The coach hitched and bounced, and he instinctively put a hand around Catherine to protect her from it. Catching a shrewd look that Laura gave him, he put his hands back in his coat pocket.

  “Well, Peter, tell me all you know,” He said.

  Peter coughed, then said. “There’s very little I know, honestly. Harland was on his way to having a smoke when he overheard some men cursing as they tried to load something wrapped in a heavy carpet onto a coach. He helped them load it and chatted with them. They told him they were headed to an Inn in Newhaven and left.

  On his way back inside, he saw two men with a statue and he paused in shock because he saw them deliberately drop it to the ground and do their best to smash it. One of them asked if it were a valuable statue, and the other one said, “It’s only a reproduction. The real one is on its way to new haven and then to Paris. But no word of that to anyone or I and my pistol will come looking for you.”

  “Harland’s a smart lad if he figured out what was happening from all that.”

  “He did, and he is,” Peter said. “What’s better is that he knows the Inn which these villains intend to live in.”

  “What do you intend to do when you reach there?” asked Laura. “Would you be calling upon the services of the law?”

  “Hardly.” Peter produced from a nearby valise a pair of pistols and handed one to Drake. “I believe Drake and I are quite able to handle this ourselves.”

  Catherine shuddered.

  “Don’t worry,” Drake said to her, “We will make sure you’re far away from any violence.”

  Laura gave him that shrewd look again, a kind of look his sister seemed to specialize in, and Drake found himself wishing he were once again alone with Catherine, that he might reassure her that he meant her no harm.

  As it was, she seemed to shrink from him.

  “Lady Catherine.” Said Laura. “It must have come as a terrible shock to you, to learn of this deceit. I’ve seen you before, around town, and I’m truly sorry that you had to suffer this way. I’m sure once we’ve regained the statue, and thought it through, it will come to light that your brother is innocent. Perhaps the plot was not his after all, but that of one of his valet’s.”

  “I pray that it will be so, Lady Laura.” Said Catherine, seizing the chance to put in a good word. “I fear greatly for the reputation of my family. My father, bless his soul, was renowned for his chivalry. His soul would be tortured if ever a scandal were to break out. Regardless of whether we retrieve the statue, I will myself plead with George to return every penny that he has taken from Sir Peter.”

  Sir Peter laughed. “George played that game already, my lady. Pray, do not play it as well.”

  “I do not understand,” She said.

  “Don’t you? The minute I handed George the money, he had spent it already on his many vices. Gambling, I believe was the foremost of them. I had to be polite and refuse when he offered in public to return the money to me because I knew it was an empty offer.”

  Catherine turned pale once more. “Do you mean?-”

  “I mean that your brother is penniless right now. He has no way to repay me if I choose to press him for the money.” Sir Peter said harshly.

  Catherine closed her eyes as she felt her world crash about her. Her one, slim, hope of repaying Sir Peter and somehow scavenging her family’s honor had just been crushed.

  “If not his money,” said Catherine, her heart breaking, “I would be willing to offer my services as a maid and live without wages for as long as it takes to repay you.”

  Sir Peter shook his head in horror, and Lady Laura gasped. “We would not think to be so cruel.” Sir Peter said.

  Laura added, “You are innocent in this, my Lady. The punishment must go to your cousin alone. Besides which, at a maid’s wages, it would take you 300 years to repay Peter. Pray do not trouble yourself; we will retrieve the statue, and perhaps-” She turned to Sir Peter, “Perhaps if truly no malice was meant, but it was an act of desperation, my kind husband will be willing to forgive George. After all, as long as we gain a priceless statue, there will be no harm done.”

  For a moment, Catherine said nothing. She simply sat with her head down, willing herself to be composed. Then, raising her head, with no trace of her unhappiness on her face, she said, “I’m afraid, my lady, that you are too kind to us. Unfortunately, even if you retrieve it, you will not be gaining a priceless statue. You see, the statue is a fake.”

  Chapter 8

  The Truth is Revealed

  T here was a horrified gasp all around the carriage. By now, the riders had been in motion all night, and dawn had begun to break over the horizon. Still, the frozen silence inside
the carriage would have had an onlooker assume each member was asleep, when in fact, each was silent with shock.

  Sir Drake spoke first. “It cannot be.” Said he. “You see, I have been trained through years of observing it, to identify superior art when it comes along. The sculptor who formed that statue was, in my eyes, a genius to rival any of the Italian heroes we like to raise on a pedestal. That statue, with its depth of meaning, could not possibly be a fake.”

  “He is right.” Sir Peter said. “Surely, surely, it cannot be a fake. You must be mistaken, gentle lady. After all, women are not often knowledgeable in the arts. The entirety of the Society of Dilettantes and their many experts could not be fooled in this manner. Perhaps something George said in jest misled you.”

  Sir Drake nodded again. “I believe so. George has a nasty habit of playing pranks. Perhaps he’s not the only one in the family.”

  “What do you mean?” Laura asked.

  “I mean, perhaps Lady Catherine here, sensing a kind heart in you, is playing pranks of her own.”

  Sir Peter’s kind face turned firm. “There’s a possibility I didn’t think of. Perhaps Lady Catherine is trying to aid her cousin and attempting to make us stall with her lies about the statue. If that’s the case, it’s no use, Lady. I mean to have that statue and I shall get it.”

  “I swear to you, good sir-”

  “It’s no use, Catherine.” Sir Drake said. She stiffened in shock, noting that for the first time he had not called her a lady. His voice, which, even in the carriage had been so warm, was now tight with fury. “Give up the game and accept your loss.”

  “M’lord! Sir Drake! Sir Peter!” A voice called from the front of the carriage.

  “Harland, my man!” Sir Peter stuck his head out of the window. “What is it?”

  “The carriage sir! The thieves carrying the statue! It is in front of us! We should catch up to it soon!”

  Sir Drake whooped in joy and sprang out of his seat. Opening the door of the carriage, he carefully stepped onto the running boards on their sides and began to make his way towards the horses.

  “Drake!” Laura cried in horror. “Stop! It is too dangerous!”

  “Don’t go!” pleaded Catherine. “I implore you, sir. Do not go on the statue’s account. It is a fake. Do not put your life in any danger.”

  Sir Drake gave her a contemptuous look. “My life or the loss of it can surely mean nothing to you, my lady.” With those words, he was gone, with Peter following after him, even as Laura entreated him to stay.

  Catherine felt a thin streak of ice form up her spine. Of all that he had accused her this evening, it was this last suggestion that even her affection for him was feigned that caused her the greatest grief. That he could think her so low and vulgar as to pretend to seduce him! God, she prayed a silent prayer, no matter what happened to her, no matter even if the scandal broke out, let Drake escape unharmed. His life, she was realizing, mattered a great deal to her.

  Laura, who had a kind heart indeed, pressed a hand into Catherine’s, and said, “My brother’s fury blinds him. I see clearly. You are incapable my lady of the falsehood he accuses you of. I can see in your eyes that you truly mean well for him.”

  Catherine hid her face, unable to form words.

  “Do not worry about them,” Laura said. “I know I do because that is my nature, but the truth is that both Peter and Drake are skilled horse riders, and even more skilled with a pistol. If there are two men in England capable of overtaking and subduing those thieves, it is them.”

  Catherine nodded. “I do remember your brother’s skill, Lady Laura. Before he fought with George, he stayed often at Haskett Hall, and the two of them were great adventurers. I often wish that he and George had not parted company. I believe George would have been a different man.”

  “You seem to hold my brother in high regard.” Lady Laura said. “Have you done so since you were a child?”

  Lady Catherine pressed her hands together, and said, “It does not matter, my lady. I do not believe my regard will be very valuable when a new sun rises tomorrow, and the scandal of what George has done spreads over the country.”

  Laura looked distressed. “Peter is furious, and so is Drake, but believe me, Lady Catherine, I mean to try to suppress this. If only for your sake.”

  “You are very kind to me, my Lady,” Catherine said, surprised. “I am most surprised, especially since I can have done nothing to deserve your kindness.”

  “Kind? Ha! I am selfish. Like I said, I see clearly when my brother cannot, and I see something in you that he is blind to at the moment.”

  “What is that?”

  “Honesty,” Laura said. “You strike me, above all, as an honest woman, Catherine. I do not believe for a moment that you were complicit in George’s crimes and I believe, if you will excuse me for being vulgarly frank, I believe that you and my brother together would make a wonderful pair.”

  Catherine felt her stomach clench. “Never,” She said. “It could not happen that way, my lady. Your brother is angry with me now and when the truth of the statue is revealed, he will hate me forever. Pray, do not let your sweet visions make space in my heart, for I fear I would be overwhelmed with them.”

  Laura, in triumph at obtaining this confession of tender feeling from Catherine, was about to say something but was cut short by a sound that reminded both ladies of the gravity of their situation.

  At that moment, the report of a pistol was heard.

  Chapter 9

  In Pursuit

  W ith his hands on the reins of the horses, Sir Drake had come into his element. Where another man would have laid heavy on the whip, Drake used only his commanding voice to make the animals heed. Like all well-trained animals, the sound of a man truly confident in himself made the horses more eager to please. Tired as they were, they moved at his insistence faster than ever before.

  In a few miles, the distance between the two carriages had been significantly shortened. Sir Peter, seated next to Drake, loaded his rifle, and aimed at the wheel.

  “No,” Drake said. “Do not shoot at the carriage, Peter. We do not want to risk damage to the statue.”

  “Oh, no.” Sir Peter said, putting the rifle back down. “What’s to be done then?”

  “We can overtake them and block the road,” Drake said. “When they step out, Harland will pretend he has a message for the men from George. He will tell them there’s been a mistake and they need to come back to Haskett Hall with us.”

  “Will they believe him?” Sir Peter asked doubtfully.

  “Does not matter if they do,” Drake said. “As soon as they take their hands off the horse’s reins, we will train our guns on them.”

  “You were always one for a strategy.” Sir Peter smiled.

  “The wise man fires his gun only once to win a war.” Sir Drake quoted. “Or so a friend of mine once told me.”

  “A wise friend.” Sir Peter commented.

  “It was Catherine’s father,” Drake said, casually. “George’s uncle. He was one of the best men I have ever known.”

  Harland, next to these gentlemen, was holding tight to the sides of the carriage as it bounced along the road, marveling at the ease and absolute cool with which the two gentlemen talked even as they chased down the carriage in front of them. “There’s a mark of proper quality for you!” thought he to himself.

  “Why did you estrange yourself from George, old man?” asked Sir Peter, “I rather think I should have refrained from buying from him if I’d known about it.”

  “Catherine’s father was very proud of his nephew. He had no sons of his own, and his wife having passed away when Catherine was only a child, he doted on the two of them.” Drake said. “Unlike my relationship with my own father, which you will recall was quite strained until I left some of my rather wild ways.”

  Sir Peter laughed. “Your father would sooner tan your hide than look at you when you were naughty and wild.”

  “When we were
in the last year at Eton, George tried to convince me to play a part in a rather nasty prank on our head-boy,” Drake said.

  “I’d had enough of being a wild ‘un at that point, and I refused politely. Besides, the prank didn’t strike me as entirely funny. He was going to throw a firecracker into the head boy's room, in the middle of the night, and lock the door from outside.”

  Drake took the coach around a bend at a speed that very nearly overturned it.

  “Funny.” Sir Peter said, gripping his hat slightly tighter.

  “Yes. George was always very charismatic. He no doubt thought it would be yet another exploit to boast of. Unfortunately for him, the head-boy woke up confused, and dove out of the window, breaking both his legs.” Drake yanked the reins, forcing the horses to move faster. They had only a few spans distance between the coaches now.

  Sir Peter raised his eyebrows. “Nasty business.”

  “It could have been. With his track, George was close to being thrown out of the place. This would have been the final nail on the hammer.”

  “Wait a minute-” Sir Peter said, “You took the blame for it?”

  “I didn’t admit anything.” Sir Drake said, “But, well, I didn’t say I hadn’t done it either. I was, to put it lightly, sent home in shame. Still, as the Earl’s son, they took me back the next term.”

  “My Lord!” Sir Peter said. “No wonder you aren’t too fond of George.”

  “I did it willingly, and I was still fond of George until I found something else. George targeted the head-boy because the head-boy had caught him cheating and threatened to expose him. It wasn’t a simple prank, it was George’s way of seeking revenge. Once I learned that I stopped speaking to him. We simply went our separate ways.”

  “The man’s a right scoundrel!” Sir Peter said fiercely. “You did right. I do wish I’d known this earlier. You’re a good man, Drake, a good man and a good friend.”