The Lords & Ladies Box Set

by Fenella J Miller

  ‘Good morning, Mr Jeffries, thank you for helping Lord Rivenhall and I out of a dilemma.’ The vicar nodded and smiled weakly. ‘If we had had our banns read we would have offended so many local people, who believe such a celebration ought not to take place until a full year’s mourning has been completed.’

  Richard hid his smile; Amelia’s explanation was ingenious. The vicar was wavering and she

  delivered the coup de grace. ‘It was my mother’s wish that we married. She did not think it proper for us to reside together unchaperoned any longer than was necessary.’

  The vicar beamed. ‘Absolutely, Miss Rivenhall, you have both behaved properly. When people hear you have fulfilled dear Lady Rivenhall’s dying request, they will be happy for you both.’

  Richard took Amelia’s arm, Martha and Peters fell in behind them and Mr Jeffries led the way. In less than twenty minutes Amelia emerged from the church a Rivenhall still, but now a lady.

  ‘I shall travel back with you, my love; Martha can return with Peters.’ Richard handed her into the waiting carriage; the groom shut the door and removed the steps, pushing them carefully into their allotted place, behind the coachman’s seat.

  She glowed with happiness. Whatever he feared she believed nothing could separate them now. ‘My darling Millie, you have made me the happiest of men. I pray you do not live to regret it.’

  ‘Never, my love, never.’ He drew her into his arms and she raised her head to receive his kiss. Lost in each other’s arms they travelled the short distance back to Rivenhall.

  No wedding breakfast was planned; they were to leave for their prolonged honeymoon on the continent immediately. They believed the trunks would be waiting by the front door ready to be loaded as soon as they returned. John was to drive the carriage and Martha and Peters were to follow behind in Richard’s travelling chaise.

  She arrived; blissfully unaware of the furore that awaited her. Foster had been told, at the last-minute of their wedding, and it had been his duty to inform the remainder of the staff. Unfortunately Rivenhall had returned as Foster was making a grand announcement to the staff assembled in the hall. If he had, as expected, spread the word discreetly, all might still have been well. Now it was too late, the secret was revealed. The real lord was not so easily deceived as the vicar.

  He had his valet and the lawyers remove the trunks. Then he waited to greet the happy couple. Hardly allowing them time to gain their feet, he pounced.

  ‘Married are you? Well, much good will it do you, Cousin Amelia, for by this evening your husband will be in custody exposed as an impostor and thief, and you will be the abandoned wife of a felon.’

  She was glad of Richard’s arm around her waist. The venom in this voice made her shiver. Richard said nothing, he was too angry to trust himself. Instead he ignored his accuser, brushed past him as if he was invisible. He calmly led her in; no one would have known that all was not well, or that their lives were about to be ruined.

  The accuser, losing all sense in his eagerness to follow the hated couple, shoved Martha out of his path; her cry of distress as she stumbled backwards down the steps made the newlyweds turn back.

  Amelia ran down to kneel beside her injured maid. ‘How could you do that, you brute? You have caused injury to someone who has never done you harm.’

  Richard swung round his fists clenched. Nobody harmed a member of the fairer sex and escaped

  unscathed when he was present. But knowing he was facing punishment of the most parlous kind, the villain shot inside, finding refuge from Richard’s fury, with his lawyers, in the drawing-room. Richard, his quarry flown, leapt back down the stairs, to lift Martha, moaning quietly, in his arms.

  ‘It is my ankle, my lord, I think it is broke. Oh, I am so sorry, how will you manage now, my lady?’ Even in her pain she had remembered to address Amelia correctly.

  ‘You must not worry, Martha, we are no longer going away. Annie can take care of my needs until you recover.’ She moved to Richard’s side. ‘Will you take Martha to her room, and I will send John for the doctor.’ In the confusion following the accident they had temporarily forgotten the threats.

  Her maid was made comfortable, her ankle splinted and a girl assigned to take care of her every need. Satisfied she had done all she could Amelia hurried back to join her husband in the library, in sombre mood, her earlier elation vanished like the early-morning mist that had followed them to church.

  He was staring morosely in to the fire; there was no sign of his earlier bravado. ‘Richard, all is not yet lost, you must not despair.’

  He kicked a log, sending a shower of sparks up the chimney. ‘We cannot leave now; that bastard has made sure of that. We are trapped here and there is nothing we can do. Colonel Dewkesbury is expected tomorrow or maybe even tonight, and then we shall be undone.’ He walked over to his wife and drew her to him in a tender embrace. ‘I have no excuse, my darling; I have ruined your life, for that I shall never forgive myself.’

  ‘You have ruined nothing, my love. It is Rivenhall who was done that. I have never liked the man but now I positively loathe him. He is a despicable toad to attack poor Martha like that.’

  Richard’s lips compressed at the reminder. ‘If he comes within arm’s reach without those black crows of lawyers for protection he will not survive the encounter, I promise you.’ To his

  astonishment a peal of bubbling laughter greeted this pronouncement.

  ‘Richard, you are being ridiculous, honourable and brave, but still ridiculous.’

  This contradictory statement had him flummoxed but it lightened his mood and made him smile, which had been Amelia’s intention.

  ‘You can hardly murder a relative, however obnoxious he has been, and especially not within these walls. Then you really would be a candidate for prison.’

  ‘You are, of course, my dear, perfectly correct. It would not do to confuse the runners; they will be here to arrest me for fraud and deception not murder.’

  ‘You shall not be arrested for anything. I truly believe God will not let such an evil man take the reins of Rivenhall. A solution will present itself, you must have faith.’

  He shifted uncomfortably. ‘I have a lip service to religion but, like most soldiers, I fear I have no belief in the innate goodness of man, or the benign intervention of a supreme power. I have seen too many atrocities committed and then justified by war. But looking into your lovely face and seeing such conviction in your eyes I am nearly convinced of the power of good over evil.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘If it pleases you, my love, I shall try and believe, but I rather think you have enough faith for the two of us. You know I would give you anything that is in my power to give. Maybe your God will feel as I do and grant your wish?’

  She stretched up and kissed his cheek. ‘Oh, my dear, you shall see; and he is not my God, he is yours as well; he is everyone’s who cares to listen to his voice.’

  ‘I pray you are right, Millie.’

  ‘There, you see, deep inside you, you do believe,’ Amelia teased him, smiling.

  He tousled her hair and strode to the window. ‘It is a glorious day, shall we go for a ride? If I do not keep busy I know I shall go in search of Rivenhall and relieve my frustrations on him.’

  ‘You must not.’ Then she saw his grin. ‘You wretch! You should not joke about such things, and yes I would love to ride.’

  She returned to her own bed chamber, Richard went to his. It did not seem appropriate to make changes in their sleeping arrangements as matters stood. She had sent a message to John and their mounts were saddled and waiting when they arrived a short time later, but it was not Prince and Sultan who stamped impatiently, but Dolly and Sultan.

  ‘What the devil is going on here, John, is this some kind of prank?’ Her husband was not pleased.

  ‘Do not rail at John, please, it was my doing. I think it is time you tried Sultan again. He likes you; look how he is rubbing his head against your arm.’

  Richard scratched the en
ormous chestnut muzzle then turned and, without further discussion, swung into the saddle, gathering up the reins as he did so. She held her breath but the horse merely shook his head, jangling his bit and stamping his hooves again, eager to get out and stretch his legs.

  John hastily threw her on to the pretty dappled mare and both riders and horses, in perfect harmony, clattered out under the arch, to enjoy an exhilarating, and uneventful, ride. On their return Richard slapped his mount on the neck.

  "Well done, old fellow, I don't think I've ever been astride a better horse."

  "Then he is yours, consider him my wedding present to you. From now on I shall ride this little mare."

  "Good grief, darling girl, that's doing it too brown. Sultan is your horse, but I will be delighted to take him out occasionally." He pulled her hand through his arm and they strolled back to the house. "I have estate business to take care of, but I shall see you at dinner." He strode off and she immediately felt rather flat.

  Amelia spent an inordinate time at her ablutions wishing to fill the dreary space until the time arrived to change for dinner. Richard had changed out of his uniform and taken himself off to the estate office, insisting it was better if they remained apart in the circumstances. She feared he was going to insist on an annulment and have their union put aside.

  With breaking heart and heavy eyes she saw the colonel’s carriage bowling down the drive. She looked at the clock on the mantel shelf. The hour would be forever etched upon her memory. Her life was going to be irrevocably changed by the arrival of the man who had come to denounce her husband.

  Chapter Ten

  The colonel was not alone. Two rather uncouth, plainly dressed, men emerged from the carriage behind him. Amelia noted that the men had a military bearing. Why had Dewkesbury brought two ex-soldiers with him?

  Then she knew! She felt faint. She ran to the door, praying that a direct appeal from her might avoid the calamity. The men were Bow Street Runners; there could be no other explanation. The decision had already been made; the colonel had come to arrest Richard.

  She flew down the stairs, oblivious to Foster’s stare of disapproval, and slid to a halt in front of the man her husband and her departed cousin had honoured and respected above all others, apart from the Duke himself.

  If Lord Dewkesbury was in anyway put out by her undignified arrival he was too much the gentleman to show it. He bowed; his cropped grey hair matched his penetrating grey eyes. ‘Good afternoon, Miss Rivenhall, I hope my early arrival does not inconvenience you?’

  She curtsied. ‘No, my lord, Richard and I are delighted you are here. Foster have Lord Dewkesbury’s bags conveyed to the green room.’ She hesitated, eyeing the two silent men standing by the door. ‘Will your…friends, be staying also, my lord?’

  Dewkesbury’s expression was puzzled, then he smiled, no longer looking so forbidding. ‘Good

  heavens, my dear, these two good men take care of me, they will find their own accommodations.’

  The relief on Amelia’s face was no doubt noted by the colonel. Swallowing hard she attempted to smile, but made a sorry job of it. ‘Shall we go somewhere more comfortable, my dear? This is not the place for a cosy conversation.’

  ‘Yes, my lord, of course,’ Amelia stammered, ‘the library is my favourite room.’

  ‘Then to the library we shall go.’ He threaded Amelia’s unresisting arm through his, and, still in his outdoor clothes, allowed her to lead him to the room away from prying eyes and listening ears.

  Inside he guided her to the chesterfield and gently seated her. He removed his cape and threw it casually across the back of a chair, before seating himself beside her on the sofa. ‘Now, my dear, I think you must tell me all.’

  ‘Richard and I were married this morning; he did not want to, but I insisted. I love him, my lord, and he is a brave, good and honest man. William Rivenhall, who sent for you, is a despicable coward, he is a profligate gambler, a drunkard, and he pushed by maid, Martha, downstairs this morning and she broke her ankle in the tumble.’

  The colonel’s eyes glittered. ‘And where is this person now?’

  ‘He is hiding from Richard.’

  He chuckled ‘ I am surprised he still breathes. For a moment I feared Richard had already disposed of him.’

  Amelia smiled wanly. She liked this tall, spare man and wished that they had not met under

  such invidious circumstances. ‘Richard is working in the estate office, my lord, I shall fetch him.’ Then she remembered her lack of manners. ‘I am sorry, would you like refreshments?’

  ‘No, thank you. I shall get this business settled first.’ The words were harsh but his tone was not unkind. They both rose and she politely curtsied. He led the way to the door and opened it.

  Mr Rivenhall had been loitering in the corridor and seized his chance. He rushed forward, quite obviously furious Amelia had had the opportunity to converse with Lord Dewkesbury before him. She ignored him and swept past, head high, determined not to show their enemy she was crumbling inside with terror and misery.

  He grabbed her arm, restraining her. He must believe that victory was so nearly his that he had no need to pretend any more. ‘It is over, cousin. You shall not be so high and mighty now. Your husband will be thrown in jail and do not think that I shall allow you to continue to live here, sullying the Rivenhall name. I shall see you are destitute and forced to find a menial position, and your wretched family servants with you.’

  The colonel's iron hand took the hand and removed it from her arm. In a voice that had frequently reduced battle hardened soldiers to trembling terror the colonel spoke.

  ‘You are not a gentleman, Rivenhall. If you dare to lay another finger on Lady Rivenhall I will break your neck. Do I make myself clear? Now disappear – vanish from my sight.’

  The man shrivelled and slunk back down the corridor like a whipped cur.

  *

  Richard had heard the carriage and was waiting for the knock to summon him. He had failed his dearest friend and even worse, he had failed the woman he loved more than life itself. There had

  never been the time, or the desire, for lengthy entanglements and he had always viewed romantic attachment with disgust. Love was for dandified gentlemen, not for men of action. Then all had changed when he had met Amelia. The incomprehensible became as clear as day. He had derided others who declared they would die for their love. But now he knew that he would, in one instant, trade his own existence to protect his wife.

  It wasn’t Foster who came in. His courage almost deserted him when he saw the abject desolation reflected on Amelia’s face. For the last time he held her close, pressed against the heart that beat solely for her.

  He could feel the wet of her tears leaking through his shirt and he wanted to roar his frustration, to draw his sword and slay those who had brought her to this state. But neither William Rivenhall, despicable though he was, nor his ex -colonel was to blame. He had caused this and his heart contracted with sadness and his eyes filled with tears of shame.

  Gently he tipped her lovely, ashen face and placed a tender farewell kiss upon her lips. ‘Remember, my darling, whatever happens, I love you and you must be brave.’

  She rubbed her face on his shirt, thus completing the ruin of his starched cravat, and sniffed inelegantly. ‘I like your colonel, Richard. Maybe he will let us leave, slip away before the Runners come; he does not look like an unkind man.’

  ‘No, he is not cruel, but he is a man of honour. He must do his duty, I would expect nothing else.’ With his thumbs he tenderly removed the tear streaks from her face and straightened, once more in full control. Whatever happened he could endure it, as long as his darling Millie was kept safe and did not have to suffer for his folly.

  United they walked back through the maze of corridors and into the main passageway and down

  to the small drawing-room where Colonel, Lord Dewkesbury, waited. He felt like a French aristocrat walking to the guillotine, for if she was t
o be taken from him he might as well be dead. Life would have no meaning without her.

  They heard the sound of urgent voices through the door but could not recognize the speaker or

  the words. Richard halted and for a brief, poignant moment, held Amelia to him, breathing in her familiar perfume, for what, he knew, would be the last time.

  Too wretched to speak they kissed and he disentangled himself from her desperate, clinging arms and stepped away. He could not meet her eyes. His bearing was rigid, his military background giving him the courage to stride to his fate.

  *

  She walked behind him, head up, trying to be as brave as he. She dared a glance around the room. The hateful William, and his legal team were gathered like vultures waiting for the kill, hiding in the window embrasure, as far away as possible from the colonel and his retainers.

  Richard halted two paces from his commanding officer and saluted smartly; the colonel returned his gesture. If the situation had not been so serious she would have smiled at the sight of two men, out of uniform, saluting each other.

  ‘Well, Richard, what is all this about, my boy? It seems I have been fetched on a wild goose chase.’ To everyone’s incredulity the colonel stepped forward and enveloped her husband in a bear hug. ‘I must congratulate you, dear boy, on having the good sense to marry such an enchanting young lady; and also coming into the title, and inheriting Rivenhall. I am certain you will make an excellent fist of it.’

  If Dewkesbury had not been holding him she believe Richard might have fallen. The colonel knew he was an impostor but had just acknowledged him publically as Lord Rivenhall. The one outcome they had not considered.

  He found his voice. ‘Thank you, sir; I am indeed a fortunate man.’ That he was not referring to his marriage was clear to at least three others in the room.

  ‘Indeed you are, Richard, indeed you are,’ his saviour replied dryly. ‘Now, my boy, take care of your wife, she seems a little unwell.’