Lord Runthorne's Dilemma: A Regency Romance

by Steele, Sarah-Jane

  “He is a good man and he deserves better than seeing his betrothed flirting with another man.”

  “Really?” Miss Lacey’s lips tilted in an amused smile. Elizabeth ignored her.

  “Not to mention that you are being most unkind to Mr Compton,” she continued. “What has he ever done to you that you should encourage him to fall in love with you? You will break his heart. Unless…” Elizabeth paused as a sudden thought took her breath. “Unless you have formed an attachment to Mr Compton?”

  Miss Lacey laughed and cradled her cup in her lap. “Oh dear, no, Miss Hampton, please do not raise your hopes. Unlike you I have no intention of jilting Lord Runthorne.”

  “You know?”

  “Of course.” Miss Lacey smiled. “Please do not worry. He did not tell me. Mother did.” She sighed as though she felt much put upon. “She can be quite trying at times, but Mother really does have my best intentions at heart. As for Mr Compton,” she smiled as she said his name. “Well, he is charming and rather handsome.”

  “He is certainly kind,” Elizabeth said.

  “Yes, he is.” Miss Lacey sighed. “However he has no title and I rather like the thought of being a marchioness. Runthorne will not regret the bargain, I assure you. Oh, my dear, you are shocked.”

  Elizabeth felt her knees weaken and she sat on the edge of the bed. “You sound so mercenary about it.”

  Miss Lacey seemed surprised. “Not mercenary, practical. Mother raised me to see things clearly. Or do you think I should fall ‘in love’?”

  “Why not?”

  Miss Lacey leaned forward and patted Elizabeth’s hand. “Miss Hampton, you are such a romantic,” she said. “Marriage is nothing more than a bargain. Runthorne knows that and, thanks to Mother, so do I. Unlike many brides, I shall not be disappointed when my husband strays, nor shall I reprimand him for it. Unlike those who fall in love, my heart will not be broken.” She nodded, seemingly content.

  Elizabeth shook her head, barely able to take in the younger girl’s words. “Even if what you say is true and Lord Runthorne is aware that your marriage would be nothing more than a soulless bargain, what of Mr Compton? I saw his face last night, he was entranced.”

  Miss Lacey glanced down at her hands, apparently finding her cup fascinating. “Was he?” A gentle smile tilted her lips. “He is rather sweet,” she said which, as far as Elizabeth was concerned, was no explanation at all. She rose, to leave.

  “I am not going to jilt him, you know,” Miss Lacey repeated. “I am not going to make your mistake. I will be the Marchioness of Runthorne.”

  “I wish you joy of it.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Elizabeth.”

  She stopped and turned. “Charles. How are you this morning?”

  “I have never been happier,” he said. “May I have just a moment of your time? If you are not busy, that is.” Charles gestured to the basket Elizabeth held. She swung it, idly.

  “You are welcome to come with me.” She put the basket handle over her arm. “I am just on my way to the kitchen garden. I need to harvest some early greengages.”

  Charles raised his brows. “Good heavens, Elizabeth, why are you doing that? It is a job for a servant.”

  Elizabeth adjusted her chip straw bonnet. “Usually, yes, but there has been a clutch of sore throats in the town and I promised Mrs Turner that I would ask Captain Maybourne if I might let her have some. She makes a syrup from them that is very soothing. The servants are quite busy enough and they often pick ones that are too ripe.”

  “Still, surely it is not for you to do.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Oh Charles, even if I did not know it, it would be obvious you were a bachelor. It is the mistress’ duty to ensure the health of those less fortunate. I am sure your mother did the same. Aunt Edina has so much to do with her guests that I offered to help. That is all.”

  Charles looked dubious.

  “I assure you, Charles, that Mary will do exactly the same for your people when you marry.”

  “Yes, that is what I wanted to speak to you about.”

  “Mary?”

  Charles glanced over his shoulder. “Not here, Elizabeth. Miss Lacey has been trying to persuade me to participate in her infernal play.” He shuddered comically making Elizabeth laugh. “I do beg your pardon, Elizabeth, but I consider us great friends and do not mean to stand on ceremony with you.”

  “I would be wounded if you did.” Elizabeth handed Charles her basket. “I see we must be discrete. Come, we shall go hide in the maze and you can tell me what great secret you are hiding.”

  “No secret, Elizabeth, but I do need your help. I am engaged to meet Mary soon in the library and I must persuade her to allow me to approach Captain Maybourne.”

  Elizabeth frowned in thought. “It will not be easy,” she said. “I love her dearly, and she is usually the most amenable of souls, but once she has made a decision, she cannot easily be moved.”

  Charles smiled. “She is everything that is good,” he said. “Kind, generous, beautiful and so wonderful.”

  “She is also stubborn.” Elizabeth laughed at Charles’ expression. “Come, my friend, we will put our heads together and make a plan of campaign.” She glanced over her shoulder. “However, if you wish to avoid being browbeaten into Miss Lacey’s play I suggest we start walking. I hear Mr Compton.”

  “Lead on, and quickly.”

  Laughing, Elizabeth and Charles scrambled, like naughty children, to the maze.

  ***

  The fine weather broke after lunch. Now, rain streamed down the windows and a chill had penetrated the house. Runthorne kept to his own company all morning, concealing himself in one of the lesser parlours, determined to avoid Elizabeth. He had been disturbed only by a small maid who had come to light the fire when it had grown cold.

  He turned away from the warm blaze. It frustrated and annoyed him that, in Elizabeth’s company, all his good resolution went flying out of the window. When alone, he could convince himself that marriage to Aurelia was the only sensible, indeed the only honourable course of action, but one glance at Elizabeth’s face and he was like a moth in thrall to a flame. He ground his teeth. It was better that he avoid her.

  Like a coward.

  The realisation stopped him in his angry pacing. He could not risk being alone with her, but he would have to face her at some point.

  “Damn the woman.”

  He turned, resuming his pacing. Behind him, the parlour door eased open.

  Lady Delphine filled the doorway. She looked surprised. “Good gracious, Runthorne what are you doing hiding in here?” She bared her teeth. “Aurelia has been quite pining for you all morning.” She hid her hand in her satin skirts but not before he thought he saw that she held a heavy old key.

  He bowed. “Indeed, I am most distressed to hear it,” he said.

  “You should go to her.”

  He raised his brows at the command and Lady Delphine laughed a laugh that was far too young for her. The ornate ribbons on her cap trembled. “Forgive me, Runthorne, you will think me a veritable dragon. I am only thinking of Aurelia.”

  “I assure you, Lady Delphine, I know that you would do anything for your daughter.”

  Lady Delphine’s smile dropped. Then she pinned it back in place. “Perhaps you would like me to take you to her?”

  Runthorne hesitated. Then he nodded. If he had to see Elizabeth, better it was in the company of his betrothed than alone. “Thank you,” he said and gestured for her to precede him.

  They walked in uncomfortable silence, their footsteps muffled by the thick carpets that ran down the centre of the corridor. Lady Delphine led him quickly to the Yellow drawing room. The room was full of people and he wondered why she had not simply told him where to find Aurelia. Lady Delphine’s presence was not required as a chaperone when there were so many witnesses to their behaviour.

  Aurelia stood in the centre of the carpet in an attitude of abject horror. One arm was rais
ed, her hand fisted against her brow, whilst the other hand clutched at her throat. A low moan came from her lips and her eyes were fixed on Miss Granger.

  Groups of ladies and gentlemen stood around the room, watching. Mrs Maybourne sat on a sofa, the nominal chaperone. She glanced up as he and Lady Delphine entered and gestured for them to join her.

  “Woooo,” Miss Granger said. “I am the ghost of your mother, most foully murdered.”

  “Aaaagh,” Aurelia screamed as she tottered slightly.

  There was a pause. Aurelia screamed again. “Mr Compton,” she said, after a moment, “that was your cue.”

  “Oh, gosh, I am most frightfully sorry,” Mr Compton said. “Your performance is so engrossing, that I quite forgot I had something to do.”

  Aurelia blushed. “Nevertheless, Mr Compton, if you would be so kind? And Mary, please try to sound more,” she waved a hand, “convincingly ghostlike.”

  Aurelia cleared her throat and screamed for a third time.

  “What evil manifestation is this,” Mr Compton intoned, his arm flailing wildly.

  “It is so clever,” Lady Delphine whispered in Runthorne’s ear. “Aurelia was quite inspired and I must say I am very proud of her.”

  He returned a non-committal murmur. The writing was, indeed, clever but, Aurelia aside, the performances left a great deal to be desired. Mr Compton seemed incapable of remembering his words and Miss Granger was lacklustre, her attention elsewhere.

  “Stop, stop,” Aurelia cried. “You are not trying, Mary.” She sighed. “Perhaps we should take a little break. Mr Compton, please read over your words again. We shall practise the ball scene after we have rested a little.” She turned and smiled at Runthorne as chatter broke out amongst those watching.

  “Runthorne,” she said, offering her hands, “how charming of you to join us. I had quite given up on you.”

  “Please accept my deepest apologies for causing you such distress,” he said, rising to his feet.

  “Nonsense,” Aurelia laughed. “However, given that you are not taking part in our theatricals, it is most improper for you to be here. It will quite ruin it for you when we present it.”

  “Had I known you were rehearsing in here, I assure you I would have avoided this room at all costs,” he said. “I thought you were rehearsing up at the folly.”

  Aurelia giggled. “Silly, Runthorne, we would all catch our death of cold out there now.” She shook her head. “Mr Compton saw the rain clouds build up and insisted we all return forthwith. He has taken great care of us all.”

  “Then I must certainly thank him.”

  She raised her fine brows. “So, now you have intruded on our rehearsal, how do you like our little play,” she said, finally.

  “I found it most interesting,” he said.

  Aurelia laughed again, as Miss Granger joined them. “We cannot claim to rival those of Drury Lane, can we, Mary dear? But we do our poor best.”

  “Your best is better than I would have imagined,” he said. “I had not known there was so much talent in the room. I am merely grateful that neither Charles nor I are involved as we would surely ruin your endeavours.”

  Aurelia smiled as he neatly prevented her from asking him again to participate in the theatricals. Before she could elicit any further compliments, Mr Compton bustled over with a query about his words. With Aurelia distracted, he turned to Miss Granger standing at his elbow.

  “I have not seen Captain Fitzalan for some time,” she said. “I wonder, is he quite well?” She blushed.

  Runthorne smiled at her, although less than twenty-four hours was a strange definition of ‘some time’. “I have not seen him myself, but I am sure he is quite well.”

  “It is just that I did promise to show him the library today but Aurelia, Miss Lacey that is, was most insistent that I take a part in her theatrical and I have not been able to give him my excuses.” She gazed up at him with such yearning entreaty in her eyes that he grew quite uncomfortable.

  “As I say, I have not seen him, but when I do, I assure you I will give him your apologies.”

  “Not seen who,” Mr Compton said, his voice booming.

  “Captain Fitzalan,” Runthorne said.

  “Oh I saw him this morning,” Mr Compton said, rustling his pages. “Yes, indeed, he was walking with Miss Hampton into the maze. They seemed most entertained by something. You saw them, too, Lady Delphine.”

  Lady Delphine waved her fan. “I am sure I do not recall.”

  “Gosh, really? I thought you must have seen them, they passed quite close to you.”

  “I daresay I was not attending.” Lady Delphine closed her fan with a snap.

  “Oh.” Miss Granger’s voice was puzzled.

  Runthorne glanced over to the window. The rain had finally stopped, but it was still grey and cold. “I hardly think they will still be there,” he said, as much to reassure himself as to wipe the worried expression from Miss Granger’s face.

  “I hope not,” she said in her soft voice. “If Elizabeth caught another chill it would be very bad.”

  He filed that comment away for future consideration.

  “Perhaps we should just make sure,” Lady Delphine said. He glanced at her, surprised at the sly note in her voice.

  “I do not think that is necessary,” he said.

  “Oh, it might be fun, a breath of fresh air and all that,” Mr Compton said. “What say you, Miss Lacey? Now the rain has ceased would a little cool air and a gentle stroll aid our endeavours? I assure you we will keep to the drier paths.” He offered his arm.

  Aurelia laughed. “Perhaps it would,” she said, placing her hand on his forearm. “Come one, come all,” she said, gathering all her fellow performers. “We are on a hunt.”

  With much laughter the room emptied, carrying Runthorne and Miss Granger with them.

  Outside, the cold hit them all like a bowl of freezing water.

  “Oh, dear me no,” one lady cried. It was Miss Richardson. “Aurelia, my dear friend, I simply cannot continue. See my slippers are quite soaked through already.”

  Miss Richardson raised her skirt a little allowing a glimpse of her ankle. She tottered a little and laid her hand on Mr Compton’s. “Oh, what must you think of me,” she said. “Please, Mr Compton would you lend me your arm back to the house.”

  Mr Compton glanced at Aurelia. “Gosh, please accept my apologies Miss Richardson but Miss Lacey has a prior claim on me. I am sure one of the other gentlemen would assist you.”

  “Oh.” Miss Richardson did not seem pleased. “Of course.”

  Lady Delphine took Runthorne’s arm, hurrying him along. “Come along quickly, we really should check the maze. You too, Aurelia.”

  Her strange behaviour was making him uneasy. “Yes, perhaps we should,” he said.

  The path was slick beneath his feet and next to him Miss Granger stumbled. He grimaced and held back a curse, overwhelmed by a sense of urgency. He pulled his arm from Lady Delphine’s grip and supported Miss Granger until she steadied.

  The dark bulk of the maze loomed ahead, the path leading to it meandering in gentle arcs. Had the ground not been sodden, he would have cut straight across the grass, so intense was his anxiety, now. However he had to content himself with following the slower path.

  It seemed like an age before they reached the gate that barred their entry to the maze. Mr Compton reached out and rattled the gate.

  “Locked,” he said. “Well, that’s that, ladies, my lord. Captain Fitzalan and Miss Hampton cannot be there if it’s locked.”

  Everyone turned back and Runthorne almost smiled as his anxiety eased. He had allowed the foolishness of Aurelia’s theatricals to disorder his mind.

  However Lady Delphine pushed closer to the gate. “What’s that?” she said. She bent and appeared to scoop something off the grass. She turned. Her hand was outstretched. An old key was balanced on her palm. His eyes flew to her face, but it showed only innocent surprise.

  He could
not accept the suspicion that darted across his mind.

  “Gosh,” Mr Compton said. “Well, that proves it. After all, no-one could be in the maze if the key is out of the maze.” He chortled at his own wit, but Runthorne did not feel like laughing.

  Apparently oblivious to his glare, Lady Delphine walked to the gate and rattled it. “Hello, there,” she called, her voice as sweet as syrup.

  A shadow that had been hidden by the large hedge moved and detached. It was Charles. Water dripped from the brim of his hat and his face was pale with cold. His eyes were half closed, as though his brain was fuddled.

  “At last,” he croaked, stumbling forward.

  Next to Runthorne Miss Granger swayed and she gasped. Elizabeth, her face white and pinched, was cradled in Charles’ arms.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Elizabeth was hardly aware of being carried to her room. She barely registered being undressed and wrapped in warm blankets, or the hot brick being laid at her feet and the cool flannel on her forehead. She shivered uncontrollably.

  She did not know that her aunt stood guard over her with tears in her eyes, watching her battle the same fever that had weakened her before.

  The same that had taken Elizabeth’s parents.

  ***

  When Elizabeth was able to open her eyes it was dawn. What dawn she did not know but the house lay silent around her. Her aunt dozed in an armchair, her head at an uncomfortable angle. Perhaps it was that that made Aunt Edina snort and stir, because Elizabeth was sure she had made no sound herself.

  “Oh, my dear, are you awake?” Hope flashed in Aunt Edina’s eyes and Elizabeth smiled a weak smile, unwilling to trust her own voice. She licked her lips with a dry tongue.

  “You poor child, you must be thirsty.” Aunt Edina struggled out of her chair, twisting her neck to ease it. She lifted Elizabeth’s shoulders, helping her to drink a little water.

  “Thank you.” Elizabeth was mildly surprised at how her voice cracked. She felt too weak to experience any stronger emotion.

  Aunt Edina smiled and now Elizabeth noticed how deep the care lines were on her aunt’s face. “You rest now, Elizabeth. We will speak later.”