by Anne Herries
‘No, for we thought it best to tell no one. Thomas is to return his brother’s chaise in a few days and he will try once more to contact Major Ravenscar.’
Hattie stared at her for a moment, looking surprised. ‘Would that be the Honourable Mr William Ravenscar’s son by any chance? My Bertie speaks of Major Ravenscar highly. He says that if he’d been in England at the time, his father would never have got in with a bad crowd and lost his money at the tables.’
‘Oh!’ Madeline stared at her. ‘Does the family own an estate near here? I had not realised.’
‘It is not the family estate—for that is nearer Hampshire, so Bertie tells me—but the house and land in Fenstanton came to the major through his mother. It is not a large place, but a pleasant family house and some acres of land.’
‘I did not know.’ She bit her lip. ‘Does Hal come down often?’
‘He was here a few weeks back, just before his cousin Captain Miller was married. He was talking to my Bertie about the possibility of selling the place. His father’s estate is mortgaged to the hilt and he thought selling Highgroves Hall might help pay the debts.’
‘Oh, I see. Has it been sold yet?’
‘No, for my Bertie advised him against letting it go. He thinks the major would be better off selling his father’s property and settling here. It’s good fertile land and the house is sound. Only needs a spring clean to make it a lovely family home... It’s about the same size as this house and Bertie said he would buy it if he had a son, but we’ve no children yet and it looks as if we shall not.’
‘I am sorry to hear that,’ Madeline said. ‘I know what a sadness that is. I felt I could have borne my marriage more easily had I had a child.’
‘You are still young,’ Hattie said. ‘We married late, but Bertie has a nephew who will inherit this place. He is still considering buying Highgroves, but isn’t sure whether it would be of use to him, because it is a bit too far from us to make it viable. Besides, the major said he would consider taking Bertie’s advice and keeping it rather than his late father’s estate.’
‘Then perhaps he will come again soon,’ Madeline said, praying that he was still alive. If he came down to visit his mother’s estate, he might learn where she was staying and then surely he would call on her? Even if he no longer wished to marry her, he might know someone who would give her a position as a companion or a seamstress. She desperately wanted to see him again to know that he was alive and unharmed.
‘I’ll leave you to tidy yourself,’ Hattie said. ‘The kettle will be boiling so come down when you’re ready.’
‘Yes, of course.’
Left to tidy herself, Madeline sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the softness of a feather mattress. She could be quite content here for the rest of her life, she thought, if only she had enough money to pay her way. Perhaps she could find some work that would be sufficient to pay for her board and lodgings.
She went to the dressing mirror and patted her hair. She did not intend to waste her time moping. She was safe and free of both her husband and the marquis for the moment. Until she could make contact with Hal she must make the most of her circumstances...if only he were still alive.
* * *
It came to Hallam as he was on his way to the club to speak with Jack Mainwaring. The innkeeper had mentioned East Anglia. Madeline had told him something once about her former governess. A Mrs Hattie...what was the woman’s married name? He could not recall it or be certain that Madeline had ever used it in his hearing, but he did know that her husband had a farm somewhere in Cambridgeshire.
He knew most of the farmers in the area reasonably well. Since his mother’s death he had employed a manager to look after the land and the house. He’d been down only a few weeks before Adam’s wedding, wanting to see the house again before deciding whether to sell and pay off his father’s debts, or at least some of them—or to sell what remained of his father’s estate.
Hal’s mother had come from a wealthy country family, and as Hal’s roots were set firmly in a country way of life, he thought he would be satisfied to settle for the life of a well-to-do farmer. His Uncle Philip lived in Norfolk and had a large and fine estate, but while Hallam was in France, he’d learned that his uncle had lost both his wife and daughter to a virulent fever. He had other nephews on his wife’s side, but no surviving children of his own. Hal had written to him concerning his sad loss, but his uncle had not replied, and he’d felt some reluctance to intrude on his grief.
He would go down to Cambridgeshire, Hal decided. If Thomas Hobbis came looking for him, he would leave his direction, and in the meantime he would employ an agent to help him search for Madeline.
She must be somewhere and in her position she would most likely seek refuge with someone she trusted. Mrs Hattie... If only she’d told him her former governess’s married name!
Hal’s determination hardened. He would not sit in London twiddling his thumbs, but go down to Cambridgeshire and ask a few people he was acquainted with if they had heard of the lady. At least he knew that her name had been Miss Hester Goodjohn before she was wed. Someone would surely know of her.
On his way to his mother’s estate, he would take a detour and speak to Madeline’s father. It was time that he was made aware of what an evil man his former son-in-law had been.
* * *
‘I should return the chaise,’ Thomas said when they had been living at the farm for three days. ‘My brother may have need of it—and he may have news for us by now.’
‘You will go again to Major Ravenscar’s lodgings?’
‘Yes, of course, my lady,’ Thomas said. ‘I shall discover what I can and return as soon as is humanly possible.’
‘We shall miss you,’ Sally said. ‘You will not be too long, Thomas?’
‘Never fear, I shall not desert you,’ he said. ‘When I return I shall look for an inn I may purchase, where we may all live in comfort, if my lady will deign to come with us.’
‘I cannot leave her while she needs me,’ Sally said, though a look of longing was in her eyes.
Thomas reached for her hand and held it. ‘Her ladyship does well enough here, but I pray that when I return I shall have news that will bring her much happiness—and then she will not need you so much.’
Sally watched as he mounted his horse and rode away, then went back to the large kitchen. She noticed the muddy footprints on the floor she’d scrubbed that morning and sighed, thinking that life in a farmhouse would not suit her for long. Despite Hattie’s kindness, Sally would feel happier in a nice little inn with the man she loved—but she could not and would not desert her mistress.
Chapter Seven
‘Had I known what kind of a man Lethbridge was I should not have allowed the marriage,’ Sir Matthew said. ‘I would rather have faced ruin than had my poor daughter suffer such cruelty.’
‘You could not have known to what depths he would sink,’ Hallam said as he prepared to take his leave. ‘You say that you believe Maddie’s former governess to live in Cambridgeshire on a farm, but you do not know her married name?’
‘Forgive me, I would tell you if I could. I should have paid more attention, but I had much on my mind at the time,’ Sir Matthew said. ‘We must find Madeline, for now that Lethbridge is dead she is entitled to her endowment and the money her grandfather left her—and certainly her jewels and clothes belong to her. Alone and with no money, I dread to think what may become of her.’
‘She is not entirely alone for she has friends,’ Hallam said. His expression did not alter, but he detected a degree of enthusiasm in Sir Matthew at the thought of the money his daughter might inherit, and fought to keep any sign of censure from his tone as he said, ‘It is my intention to find her, sir. I shall not cease to look until I find her.’
‘And you will let me know when you do?’
Hallam inclined his head, but made no promises for he must consult Maddie’s wishes before giving her father that information. She’d been married once against her will and he did not quite trust her father. He was a selfish man, who had used his daughter ill once and might seek to use her to build up his own fortune given the chance.
After taking his farewell, Hallam set off for his mother’s estate in Cambridgeshire. At least he had some idea of where Maddie might have gone, though he was still in ignorance of her exact location. However, there were one or two farmers he knew well enough to exchange words with, as he rode about the countryside, and surely one of them could tell him something.
* * *
‘What have you learned?’ the marquis demanded from his henchman. He’d had the inn by the river watched since he’d first discovered where that interfering footman had taken Madeline and her maid, also Hallam Ravenscar’s lodgings, and now it had paid off. ‘Tell me, sirrah! Damnation! Am I served by imbeciles? Have you lost your tongue?’
‘I kept watch on the inn as you told me, my lord,’ the man said, watching his master warily. The marquis’s temper was violent when he was thwarted. ‘I saw the footman you wished to speak with and followed him to the lodgings of Major Ravenscar...’
‘Where is he now?’
‘He returned to the inn where he lodged for the night.’ Seeing the fury in the marquis’s eyes, he said quickly, ‘He left word for the major, sir—the lady is fled to Cambridgeshire, to a farm.’
‘You know the name of the farm—or the people she fled to?’
‘Yes, sir,’ the man said with a gleam of triumph in his face. ‘I stood beneath the open window and heard the footman give the landlady an address—the farm belongs to a Mr Jenkins and it is called Buttercup Farm. It is situated some ten miles beyond the small village of Fenstanton in Cambridgeshire.’
‘My God! I shall have her yet,’ the marquis cried, a gloating look in his eyes. ‘You have done well. Go to the kitchen and eat something. We leave within the hour.’
No woman could be permitted to slight him. He had desired her from the first moment of seeing her, but her behaviour in first refusing his help in the rain and then flirting with him, only to repulse him when he attempted to make love to her, had aroused his fury. And that interfering fellow Hallam Ravenscar had dared to threaten him!
Rochdale suspected an intrigue between them. If he could take his revenge on the wench, the annoying major would be well served—it would kill two birds with one stone, for once he had his hands on Madeline he would make sure she would never welcome the touch of another man.
He would marry her whether she wished it or no and secure what remained of Lethbridge’s fortune to himself, for a run of ill luck at the tables had made his own finances temporarily difficult. Then, when he was finished with her, he would decide whether or not to let her live.
* * *
Madeline stood at the bottom of the stairs, listening to the sound of voices and laughter in the kitchen. She was pleased that Sally was settling in so well, though she knew that the girl had been restless since Thomas left seven days earlier. His journey was obviously taking longer than he’d envisaged and both Madeline and Sally were awaiting his return eagerly.
Perhaps he would have news of Hallam, Madeline thought. She glanced out of the window. The wintry sun was bright and it had been dry for two days. She was too restless to sit in the parlour with her sewing and knew that Hattie would not allow her to do anything in the kitchen. She envied Sally, because she was busy and could fill the empty hours with little jobs that she enjoyed.
She would take a little walk in the fresh air. It might help to clear her mind. Slipping her cloak about her shoulders, Madeline called out that she was going for a walk, but was unsure whether her friends had heard her. Leaving by a side door, she walked across an expanse of lawn and into the orchard. Birds were singing in the branches above her head and, as she left the orchard and passed into a narrow lane bounded by high hedges, she saw Hattie’s husband and waved her hand to him in greeting.
He lifted his hand to acknowledge her, but was talking to two of his men and in truth could hardly have realised who she was for there was a distance between them and she had a hood over her head.
The sun was warm enough, but the ground was still hard, because there had been a heavy frost overnight. It had not yet snowed, but the promise of it was in the air and the sky was dark grey. On the way here they had passed a small village with a pretty church. Madeline thought it would be pleasant to visit and perhaps make the acquaintance of the vicar and his wife. If she were to settle in the area, and she thought it was as good as any, she would need an interest and the vicar or his wife might know of some work she could do.
Her spirits lifted a little as she walked. It was unlikely that her husband would find her here and she would like to live near her friends. Thomas had spoken of finding a cottage or an inn where they could all live. If he purchased an inn she could pay something for her lodgings—or perhaps she could find a position where she would be required to live in as a companion or a lady’s maid.
Her thoughts went round and round in her head because as the days passed she had begun to fear that something must have happened to Hallam. Her father would know where Hattie lived, because she’d told him, but would Hallam have gone to him? And would her father think it Madeline’s duty to return to her husband?
She could never do so! Her whole being recoiled from the thought of living with Lethbridge again. No, she would make a new life for herself somehow.
She reached the village and went inside the church to admire the beautiful stained-glass windows, the altar with its gleaming brass and the displays of greenery and deep-crimson chrysanthemums. Decorating the church with flowers was something new and Madeline thought it a pretty change from the green boughs that had always been used at certain times of the year.
The vicar entered as she was about to leave and Madeline exchanged greetings with him, promising that she would attend a service at the church very soon and venturing to ask if he knew of any work as a gentlewoman’s companion. She did not give her true name, but on the spur of the moment, used her mother’s maiden name, for she thought it would serve her better than her father’s. She would be Miss Madeline Heath, a spinster of good character recently forced to find work by a change in her circumstances and introduced herself as that lady.
The vicar nodded, listening kindly to her request and then replied, saying that he would welcome her to his committee meetings and promised to make enquiries about a position as a companion, for he knew everyone in the district.
Feeling more hopeful of the future, Madeline began to walk home. She decided to stroll back past the river and stopped to admire some majestic swans as they made their graceful way down the smooth surface of the softly flowing water. It was then that she heard something behind her—the snapping of a twig underfoot—and turned just as a man tried to grab her. Screaming, Madeline dodged past him and started running. From the corner of her eye, she saw another man coming at her from the side and gave a cry of despair. Her husband must somehow have discovered where she was staying and his henchmen had followed her. She should never have come out alone!
They were gaining on her. She tried to run even harder and caught her foot in a rabbit hole, stumbling and almost falling. Before she could recover her balance the men were on her, one each side, holding her arms as she struggled and screamed.
She could see a closed carriage waiting a short distance away and, as they began to drag her towards it, she screamed once more, knowing that once she was inside it she would be his prisoner.
‘You’d better come quietly, lady,’ one of the ruffians said. ‘Or we’ll have to knock you on the head. If we don’t take you, he’ll have us flayed.’
‘No, never! I shall never return to him! I would rather die!’<
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Madeline kicked at his skins and fought harder, straining with all her might to break free, but they held on to her relentlessly. Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, she heard a shout and then a shot went over their heads. The men were startled and stopped trying to drag her towards the coach, looking about them to see where the shot had had come from. A man had pulled his horse to a standstill just a few yards from where she stood, placing himself between them and the coach. A little cry escaped her lips. It could not be...yet it was!
‘Stand away from her or I’ll shoot you like the dogs you are.’
Madeline stared at the man on horseback and her throat tightened with emotion. Hal was here! He had found her...he was not dead, but very much alive and here. She could not wonder why or how he’d known where to look, but only be grateful that suddenly he was here when she needed him. Tears pricked her eyes and she felt relief rush through her. Hallam was here!
‘Let her go—he means it,’ one of the men holding her arm said, his grip slackening. ‘I’m off. You do as you please.’
He then broke away and ran for his life. The second man looked at Madeline speculatively, before growling deep in his throat, ‘You’ve got away this time, but he’ll have you yet. My master always gets what he wants in the end.’
Her throat was too tight to answer him. She could not move, but stood where she was shaking, as the second man ran towards the coach. He scrambled inside and was driven away at speed. Hallam had dismounted and came towards her, a pistol still in his hand. He thrust it into his coat pocket and held his hands out to her.
‘Thank God I came this way,’ he said as he caught her to him. ‘I’ve been searching for you for days, Maddie. Your father knew the farm was in the area somewhere, but not its name or the name of your friend.’
‘She is Mrs Hattie Jenkins of Buttercup Farm,’ Madeline said and he nodded, as if he were aware of the fact. ‘You’ve been there?’
‘I went to ask a friend if he knew of your former governess and was taken into the house to meet her. Sally was there helping with the baking. She looked for you, but could not find you, then Mr Jenkins recalled seeing a woman walking towards the village. I came at once to find you and thank God I did. Another few minutes and I might have been too late. What made you venture out alone without telling anyone?’