Rescued by the Viscount

by Anne Herries

  Harding had always been a harsh, brutal man and he’d shown his dislike of Jack many times in the past—even going so far as to bribe Jack’s mistress to tell him about their relationship. Lucy had admitted it to him when he’d finished their affair.

  ‘He didn’t want me,’ she’d protested. ‘All he cared about was hearing me talk of you. He hates you, Jack. I do not know why—but I believe he wants to destroy you and he would use any means to do so.’

  ‘You told him intimate details of our relationship?’

  ‘No,’ she vowed, but he saw that she lied. ‘I wish I’d never met him, never allowed him to visit me. Jack, please do not leave me. I still care for you.’

  ‘If that is true, then I am sorry, but our affair is over. I intend to marry and I will not deceive my wife.’

  ‘Surely you will need somewhere to come when she begins to bore you?’

  ‘I do not think that will ever happen,’ Jack murmured silkily. ‘Whereas you bore me, Lucy. I find cheats and liars wearisome and even had I still cared for you I would have finished the affair once you took up with Harding. Of all the men you could have chosen, he was the one I would never tolerate.’

  ‘Why do you hate him so much?’

  Because I believe he had a part in killing my father.

  The words were only in Jack’s mind, but they had been there for a long time, unspoken, unrecognised, but lurking in the recesses of his subconscious. Now he was certain of it.

  He rode down to the inn, dismounted and tied the reins of his horse to a post, then went into the inn. It was dark inside and smelled of stale beer and other less pleasant odours. A man with a white apron that was stained with splashes of brown and red wine tied about his waist looked at him through narrowed eyes.

  ‘You be a stranger to these parts, sir?’

  ‘Yes, I am travelling north,’ Jack replied, glancing about him. The room was almost empty. In one corner a man sat alone, slouched in his seat, a soft shapeless hat pulled over his eyes. At another table sat two farm workers dressed in smocks and loose breeches, their unkempt hair sticking out from beneath hats that had seen too many summers and winters. ‘I was hoping to meet someone here—a Mr Scott.’

  ‘Aye, that be him in the corner,’ the innkeeper said with a nod of his head. ‘Will I bring you a tankard of beer, sir?’

  ‘Yes, and another for Mr Scott,’ Jack agreed.

  He walked across to the man, who appeared to be sleeping, but looked up as Jack approached. The farm workers stared to see a London gentleman, but then finished their drinks and got up to leave.

  ‘Mr Jeb Scott?’ Jack asked and sat down as he nodded. ‘I believe you wrote to me?’

  ‘Aye...’ The man was looking at him now, his eyes a startling blue and more intelligent than Jack had expected from his appearance. ‘I thought there was something you might wish to know...something concerning your late father.’

  Jack’s eyes went over his face. ‘Have we met, sir?’

  ‘No, for you would not have noticed me the night you challenged Lord Harding to a duel. I was there with some friends for a certain purpose, but we need not go into that.’

  ‘Are you a military man?’ Jack asked, his curiosity aroused, for there was something in him that suggested Jeb Scott had once been a man used to commanding others.

  ‘I was once, but I was involved in some shady business that I afterwards regretted, and I was dishonourably discharged.’

  ‘You are very frank, sir.’

  ‘If you are to trust my word, you must know the worst of me.’

  ‘I judge a man by what I see in him, not by what society may know of him.’

  ‘And do you think me a man to trust?’

  ‘Perhaps—’ Jack was interrupted by the arrival of the tankards of beer, which he paid for with a half-sovereign, telling the landlord to keep the change. ‘Please see we are not disturbed for a while, sir.’

  ‘Right you are, milord,’ the man said and went off.

  ‘What news do you have for me?’ Jack asked. ‘It concerns Lord Harding—some information, you said.’

  ‘I find it difficult to gain decent employment these days. What I have is worth money.’

  ‘And you shall have it when we’re done.’

  Jeb Scott leaned forward. ‘Just under six years ago, after I was cashiered from the army, I was in a desperate state. I had nothing—money, home or name. My father was ashamed of me—and I was reduced to begging for work...’

  ‘Until someone offered you work?’

  ‘Yes.’ Scott inclined his head. ‘I was set to follow a gentleman, discover whom he met and report where they met and what they did. That gentleman was your own father, sir. He had formed a...liaison with a woman. I believe they were fond of one another...’

  ‘Yes, I know about her. My father loved her and they should have married, but she had a temper and they quarrelled, but then they met again. Who employed you, the marquis?’

  ‘No, it was his cousin. Lord Harding. He was working for the marquis, but I never met that gentleman. I was employed to discover where they met and that was all. But then my orders changed. I was told that your father had to die. No, it wasn’t I,’ Scott said as Jack’s jaw hardened. ‘I refused and was thrown out of Harding’s employ. I’m not a murderer, sir—but there are plenty out there who are not so nice. Harding soon found others to do his bidding.’

  ‘You saw what happened that night?’

  ‘Yes. I decided that I would keep an eye on your father, Captain Delsey. I did try to warn him that he might be in danger, but it was my word against Harding’s. Your father wouldn’t listen to me—or perhaps he thought he could take care of himself. He was determined to discover what had happened to the lady. She died in a riding accident, but he was not convinced it was truly an accident.’

  ‘His coach was held up, was it not?’

  ‘Aye, sir, it was. There were six of them, all with masks and pistols, and they jumped out into the road, firing shots into the air. I’m not sure what they intended to do, but one of them injured a horse and the poor beast reared up in fright. It seems one of the coach wheels was loose and it gave way, then the whole thing lurched over the side of the ravine: coach, horses, passenger and grooms.

  ‘Harding raved at them and they dragged a boulder from the side of the road and rolled it across to where the coach had been, to make it look like an accident. It was so swift that I could have done nothing to prevent it.

  ‘After they had gone, I climbed down to look, but they were all dead. I shot one of the horses that was still alive and in agony. There was nothing I could do for your father and so I rode off.’

  ‘And kept quiet about what you’d seen.’ Jack glared at him. ‘Why did you not come forward when I sent investigators to make enquiries?’

  ‘Because I went abroad and took work as a mercenary. I returned to England only a few months ago and found work as a keeper on an estate in the north. By chance I visited London on business. My father died and left me his estate, and the lawyer’s clerk insisted on taking me out that evening to show me something of life in town. It appears my father relented at the last, though he never asked for me...or perhaps he could not find me.’

  ‘Is your estate in the north?’

  ‘No, in East Anglia. I am here because I have work and my sister and her husband are living at the estate. I visited the lawyers in London to sign to allow them to continue as tenants of the farm. I have friends here in Yorkshire and I intend to buy land myself, but I need five hundred guineas more than I can raise.’

  ‘You expect me to pay you five hundred guineas for this information?’

  ‘No, my lord—for my testimony. I was a witness to your father’s murder and that of his servants. If you wish to bring him to justice, I am willing to testify to his guilt.’ />
  Jack stared at him in silence. ‘You realise that you might be charged with perverting the due process of the law by keeping silent all these years—and if you were not believed, you would make Harding your enemy?’

  ‘Aye, I’m prepared to take the chance...for my wife and son’s future.’ Scott looked him in the eyes. ‘I’ve known what it’s like to starve, to beg on the streets and to sleep rough. I want security for my family, my lord. If you agreed to pay me, you would see them right whatever happens to me.’

  ‘You would trust me—why?’

  ‘Because I heard what was said that night at that gambling hell. Not one man in that place doubted you, sir. They all spoke of you as being honest and just, and that’s why I wrote to you.’

  Jack nodded, a glimmer of appreciation in his eyes. ‘Then we have a bargain. I have always suspected that my father’s death was not an accident and I believed Harding had a hand in it. Knowing it is so is a relief in itself, but, if he lives and is fit enough to stand trial, I shall expect you to testify. In the meantime, accept this with my thanks.’ He took a bag of gold from his coat pocket. ‘You’ll find three hundred guineas in here. It is all I have with me, apart from travelling money. Put it somewhere safe and then come to me for the rest at Ellingham. I shall be there for a few weeks.’

  ‘But I have not yet kept my part of the bargain.’

  ‘I believe I may trust you, Mr Scott,’ Jack said. ‘You’ve given me what I wanted, which is proof that my suspicions were well founded. I’m not sure yet how best to use this knowledge. If I decide to go to court I shall call on you—but there are other ways of dealing with scum.’

  A slow smile dawned in the other man’s eyes. ‘Aye, well, I’ll wish you good luck, sir. This will buy me a nice farm I’ve my eye on and the rest of the money I shall invest for the future. Thank you for believing me. Not everyone would.’

  ‘I’m a decent judge of a man’s character,’ Jack said. ‘I think you would have made a good officer—it’s a pity you got mixed up in whatever it was that brought you down.’

  ‘I was a young fool and I trusted an officer I should not,’ Scott replied with a smile. ‘I regretted it and I’ve learned to know better.’

  Jack nodded, stood up and left. He was conscious of the piercing blue eyes following him as he went out of the inn.

  He mounted his horse and rode away from the inn. Jack’s thoughts were far away and he was completely unaware that he was being followed. The shot that sent him tumbling to the ground came from nowhere and he yelled in surprise and pain as the ball buried itself in his shoulder. Lying on the ground, blood trickling from his wound, he closed his eyes as the blackness took his mind.

  Charlotte, I’m sorry...

  It was the last thought he was conscious of before he lost the ability to think and began to slip into the abyss that beckoned.

  Chapter Ten

  Charlotte gazed out of the carriage window as the long drive unfolded and she saw the imposing edifice that awaited them. The marquis’s home was truly magnificent, a long main structure with a facade of gleaming white marble with pillars and a large front door under an arch. The windows were long and criss-crossed with lead so that the diamond-shaped panes gleamed in the sunlight like jewels. There were two wings, one at either end, both of which looked to have been added at different times. Also, a sweep of magnificent lawn with formal beds of roses and shrubs, pathways leading through them to a park, beyond which Charlotte knew was a lake, having glimpsed it through the trees as they drove past.

  ‘Are we here at last?’ Mama asked in a plaintive voice that spoke volumes. ‘I thought we should never arrive.’

  ‘Yes, we are here,’ Charlotte said. ‘It seems ages since we drove through the gates, does it not? The estate is very large, Mama.’

  ‘Yes, well, we knew that,’ her mother said, looking determined not to be impressed. ‘Where is your papa? He was fortunate that he rode here. So much more comfortable than a closed carriage.’

  Charlotte forbore to reply, for a footman resplendent in a scarlet-and-silver uniform had come out and was about to open the door for them. She smiled and gave him her hand, and saw the flicker of a smile in his eyes, though he managed to keep his face suitably grave.

  ‘Miss Stevens,’ he said. ‘Welcome to Ellingham. His lordship and Lady Delsey are in the morning parlour, miss, and Sir Mordred is with them. Everyone is anxious to meet you—’

  ‘Johnson!’ a harsh voice interrupted the friendly footman, and Charlotte saw the black-coated butler waiting to greet them at the head of a veritable army of servants, dressed in either black or grey.

  Mama was being helped from the carriage in silence, the footman having been silenced. Charlotte proceeded to the butler, who bowed in a stately fashion.

  ‘Miss Stevens, we are delighted to welcome you to Ellingham,’ he said in a formal tone with none of the footman’s warmth. ‘It is my privilege to introduce you to the staff here. I am Evans, the marquis’s butler at Ellingham, and this is the housekeeper, Mrs Moore, Mrs Harlow, her ladyship’s dresser, Miss Robinson, better known as Nurse, his lordship’s valet, Beedle, the upper parlour maid...’

  Charlotte was led down a long line of servants, including the cook, a plump smiling lady in her middle years, various maids, footmen and the marquis’s secretary, besides numerous underlings who were not named. She knew it was impossible to remember all their names and faces, but her own maid, Betty, would get to know the others and remind her when she needed to know. It was the first time Charlotte had had her own maid, having shared Mama’s, but Papa had insisted she have one now that she was to marry and the girl had been hired three days before they left town.

  ‘If you will come this way, Miss Stevens, ma’am.’

  Charlotte followed the imposing butler through the house to what was obviously the morning parlour at the back. Immediately, she was aware of sunshine flooding into a pretty room, which was furnished in shades of green and cream. The furniture was dainty; she thought it might have come from the master craftsman Sheraton, the satinwood inlaid with dark stringing; cabinets, half-moon tables set against the walls, delicate chairs, a small sofa, and an elegant desk standing near the window gave the room an air of elegance and comfort.

  Charlotte’s father was standing by the fireplace, at his left hand an elderly gentleman with white hair, fierce grey eyes and a determined chin sat in a wing chair. A little way off on a small sofa perched a lady, who when she stood up was taller than Charlotte, but looked delicate and fine-boned.

  The marquis had risen to his feet and now her father was introducing his wife and then Charlotte. As the piercing gaze came to rest on Charlotte, she made a deep curtsy, her manner demure as she lowered her eyes.

  ‘Well, then, young lady, let me look at you,’ the marquis said as she straightened up and met his gaze, which had softened. ‘So you are the clever miss who has at last made my grandson see the wisdom of marriage. Hmm. I believe I can see why. You are very welcome, m’dear. Daisy, come here and meet your future daughter-in-law. Lady Daisy, Miss Charlotte Stevens.’

  ‘Sir,’ Charlotte murmured, a dimple in her cheek as she sensed that behind the gruff manner was a kind-hearted man. ‘I am delighted to meet you—and only sorry Viscount Delsey was unable to come with us.’

  ‘Yes, that is a mystery. What do you suppose the young scamp is up to now?’ He glanced at Lady Daisy, who had now come forward. ‘What have you to say to our young lady?’

  ‘You are very welcome, as Papa says.’ Jack’s mother spoke in a die-away air, her voice so faint it was hard to hear what she said. ‘I dare say you are exhausted. The roads are so terrible and it always gives me a headache to travel far.’

  ‘I am quite well, ma’am,’ Charlotte said, ‘though a little tired. I believe the journey was harder for Mama than for me.’

  ‘Yes,
I am sure. You must be wanting to rest, Lady Stevens,’ Jack’s mother said with a look of sympathy. ‘Do you have your vinaigrette with you? I always carry mine for if I do not I shall be prostrate for hours on arrival.’

  ‘I have had the headache this past age,’ Mama replied. ‘I shall indeed be glad to lie down on my bed for an hour or so.’

  ‘You will take some refreshment first?’ the marquis asked with a slight frown.

  ‘Really, you must excuse me,’ Mama said. ‘If your housekeeper could show me the way?’

  ‘I shall do that myself,’ Lady Daisy affirmed. ‘Miss Stevens, will you come?’

  ‘If I may, I should like to take some tea with Lord Ellington,’ Charlotte replied. ‘Unless you need me, Mama?’

  ‘No, no, my maid will attend me,’ her mother replied, waving a lavender-scented handkerchief at her.

  She went out with Lady Daisy, talking of the rigours of travel to someone who was able and willing to share every bump in the road and every hurt suffered.

  The marquis looked at Charlotte with approval and motioned to her to sit down, then rang the bell for refreshments. He gave Charlotte a moment to settle herself, then fixed her with his disconcerting stare.

  ‘So how long have you known my grandson, Miss Stevens?’

  ‘A few weeks, sir. Papa took a house for the Season across the square to Jack’s town house and he came to call on us.’

  ‘Love at first sight, then.’ The Marquis made a sound of satisfaction deep in his throat. ‘I have been waiting for this day for a long time, girl. I must say it is shabby of Jack to let you come down alone, but I dare say he has his reasons?’