A Marriage of Necessity

by Tarah Scott

  “I believed everything he said,” Kennedy whispered.

  “Why wouldn’t you?” John said. “This is more fiendish than sending her away.”

  Kennedy surged to his feet. “I’m going to Chesterfield.”

  John stood. “Let’s be off.”

  Kennedy shook his head. “This is not your fight, John.”

  John clapped him on the back. “I owe you for saving my life in Glasgow.” He grinned. “Ye know how much I hate being in debt.”

  * * *

  For an hour, Anne sat on the divan in Kennedy’s study trying to read before she began to wonder if she was being foolish for waiting. After their encounter in the conservatory yesterday afternoon, he had appeared in her bedchambers later that night and made love to her a second time. But she’d woken to find him gone. After a day shopping with Louisa and her mother, she returned home to find that Kennedy had come and gone. That had been three hours ago. Her mother and Louisa were leaving tomorrow, and Louisa had begged for one last night in town. Mama, had taken her to the opera.

  Anne had hoped for time alone with Kennedy, again. Her cheeks warmed at the thought. Would he think her loose now? Was a wife supposed to enjoy her husband so much? He certainly seemed to enjoy his time with her. Was this what she had to look forward to for the rest of her life? “

  What had his father said? “It hadn’t occurred to me you might be beautiful, but the fact that you are will hold Kennedy’s interest for a while.” If his father spoke the truth, how long before Kennedy tired of her? What would she do when he took other lovers? I thought struck. Did he have a mistress? Her heart sank. Of course, he did. A man like him always had a mistress.

  She was a fool. He bore no particular affection for her. He only married because his father commanded that he sire an heir as quickly as possible. Perhaps he was enjoying himself in the process. Perhaps once their son was born, he would lose interest in her altogether.

  He wasn’t home because he had no interest in seeing her, and here she was waiting for him in his study. Thank God, he hadn’t come home and found her waiting. Not only would she feel like a fool, she would look like a fool. She closed her book and rose. A knock sounded on the door, then the door opened and the butler entered.

  “Forgive me, my lady, but there is a boy here who insists upon seeing his lordship.”

  “Kennedy isn’t here,” she said.

  “I am aware he is no’ at home,” Mr. Bingham said. “But the boy insists that he will not leave until he has seen Lord Buchanan.”

  “What does he want with the viscount?” she asked.

  Mr. Bingham shook his head. “He refuses to say. “

  “Perhaps he will tell me. Show him in, please.”

  He bowed and left. Anne sat back down on the divan and, a moment later, Mr. Bingham returned with a tall lad of about fourteen years of age, dressed in britches and a rough woolen coat. He reminded her of a stable hand.

  Anne remain seated as the boy approached. “I am Lady Anne,” she said. “What is this message you have for my husband?”

  The boy stopped near the table in front of the divan. “It’s from his sister,” he said.

  “His sister?” Anne snapped her gaze onto the butler, who was closing the door. “Mr. Bingham, wait, please.”

  He paused. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “Does his lordship have a sister?”

  “Aye, my lady. Lady Rose. She lives with the earl.”

  Why hadn’t Kennedy mentioned her? Why hadn’t she attended their wedding? Why hadn’t they met her at the ball? She hesitated. She needed to hear what the boy had to say, but she felt completely lost.

  “Mr. Bingham, will you wait outside the door, please?”

  “Of course, my lady.” He stepped into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him.

  Anne returned her attention to the boy. “What is your name?”

  “Matthew, my lady.”

  She smiled. “Matthew, what is the message?”

  The boy stubbornly shook his head. “Lady Rose specifically instructed me to tell no one but her brother.”

  Anne pinned him with a hard stare. “I assume the message is important or you wouldn’t be here refusing to leave.”

  “Aye, ma’am, very important.

  “Too important to delay in delivering?” she pressed.

  His brows knit in uncertainty. “It’s devilish important—begging your pardon, my lady.”

  “Never mind that,” she said. “I’m sure Lady Rose thought his lordship would be home. But he isn’t, and we can’t say when he will return. If it’s important, perhaps ye had better tell me. I am his wife, so there is little difference between telling him and telling me.” Normally, she wasn’t nosy, but intense curiosity—and more than a little frustration—made her want to hear the message.

  The young man considered. “I suppose ye might be right. Lady Rose sounded very desperate.” His expression grew serious. “But if I tell you, I must still tell his lordship.” He stood straighter. “I promised, and a gentleman never breaks his word to a lady.”

  Anne smiled. “Of course, you are absolutely correct. Please tell me the message, then I will have Mr. Bingham take you to the kitchen where Mrs. Hampshire will fix you tea and something to eat. You may wait until his lordship arrives, then repeat to him the message, as well.”

  His eyes brightened. “I am hungry, ma’am.”

  “Then you shall have a fine dinner. Will that do?”

  He gave a concise nod. “Yes, ma’am. The young lady asked me to tell his lordship that she is being held prisoner in Chesterfield Hall.”

  Anne blinked. “Being held prisoner? Surely, there must be some mistake?”

  He shook his head. “I said the same thing. How can anyone be a prisoner in their own home? I didn’t want to call a lady a liar, but I did accuse her of making fun of me. Then she showed me bruises on her cheek and arm. She is telling the truth. I’m sure if it.”

  “She is being beat?” Anne asked. It was simply too fantastical.

  “Aye, so you can see how I would have to believe her.”

  Anne nodded. “That is serious proof.” But could she believe him?

  “Lady Rose was very specific,” he went on. “She said his lordship was to come to her by way of the west entrance, and she begged him to hurry.”

  “If she’s being held captive, how is it you came to speak with her?”

  “My father has the best milk and butter in all of Edinburgh. The earl buys our butter and milk. I was making the delivery when I passed by the window and she called to me. I must tell you the truth, though. Lady Rose told me that I must be honest. She promised that I would not get into trouble.”

  “If Lady Rose promised you would not get into trouble, then you shall not get into trouble.” Anne studied him. “Did she promise you money for delivering the message?”

  His chin lifted. “She did, but a gentleman never takes money for helping a lady in distress.”

  “You are right again,” Anne murmured. “What is this truth you must tell me?”

  “Normally, I go around the side to the servants’ entrances on the east. But that’s a longer walk, and I was in a hurry. So I climbed the wall and cut through on that side of the estate.”

  “I have seen that wall,” Anne said. “It’s very high.”

  He gave her a disparaging look. “I can easily climb it. It would be difficult if I was delivering milk because milk spills. But this time I was only delivering butter, and butter doesn’t spill. It was very fortunate I took that route, according to Lady Rose, for she said no one ever came across the estate on that side.”

  “Did Lady Rose say why she was being held captive?”

  He shook his head. “Eight days maybe. She wasn’t certain.”

  Since last Saturday or Sunday, Anne thought. One or two days before she received the summons from the earl. That was odd.

  “She said the lady who watches her is evil,” Matthew said.

  �
��Evil?” Anne repeated. “Is it she who beats Lady Rose?”

  “I don’t know. She did say the woman gave her laudanum to keep her quiet, but Lady Rose promised not to scream, so she didn’t give her as much.”

  The story was too preposterous. Oh, how she wished Kennedy were here, or even her mother. “When his lordship returns home, you can repeat the story for him,” Anne said.

  Matthew nodded. “I hope he returns soon. Lady Rose overheard the evil woman speaking with the man who brings them their food. He said that the earl was very ill and they thought he might die soon.”

  That Anne knew to be true. The earl didn’t look at all well.

  “He has fallen into a coma,” the boy said.

  “A coma?” she blurted. She had heard no such thing. Surely, Kennedy would tell her if that were true. Might that be why he’d been gone all afternoon?

  “I did not know anything else,” he said. “Except Lady Rose is very afraid they will send her away now that the earl is dying.”

  “Send her away where?”

  “She didn’t say, she only said that she must be away for nine months or more. They said something about his lordship having a child.”

  Anne stared. The boy would have absolutely no reason to make up something like that.

  Chapter Ten

  Anne had Mr. Bingham take Matthew to the kitchen for a good dinner, where he would wait until Kennedy returned home. A messenger was sent to the boy’s home that explained where he was—Anne swore Matthew to secrecy in regards to ‘the lady’s message’ as he now referred to his mission. Then she asked Mr. Bingham about Lady Rose and learned that Kennedy’s sister was fifteen years old, and she and Kennedy were very close. Though Mr. Bingham stated that it wasn’t his place to comment, he did admit that he was surprised that Lady Rose hadn’t joined them for the wedding and the bridal feast that followed, or that she hadn’t been to visit in over a week. He didn’t know where Kennedy had gone, and Kennedy hadn’t left word when he might return. It was eight twenty, and her mother would not return for another two hours, at least.

  She waited another hour, but when Kennedy didn’t arrive home, she spoke once again with Matthew and learned which window he had seen Lady Rose in. Then she ordered the carriage brought around, and changed into a plain dress and cloak. As she clasped the footman’s hand in preparation to enter the carriage, someone called her name. She paused and looked back to find Matthew bounding down the stairs toward her.

  He reached the carriage and said between breaths, “You are going to rescue her, aren’t ye, my lady?”

  “I am going to see what I can learn about the situation,” she said in a quiet voice.

  The boy cast the footman a glance, then said, “I will come with you.”

  “Nae,” she said. “Someone must wait here to speak with my husband when he returns. That is your job, Matthew.”

  He shook his head stubbornly. “That is a baby’s job. I am a man. Ye can leave word with Mr. Bingham. But I am going with you, my lady. It is not right that you should go without a man to protect you.”

  Heaven save her from the men who wanted to protect her. “You will stay here, Matthew.”

  But before she could say more, he shrugged. “I can get there on my own, just as I came here.”

  “How did you come here?” she asked.

  “I have a horse. I took her to your stables. But I can have her saddled in two minutes. A horse is much faster than a carriage, and I know a shortcut.”

  Anne sighed. “Then I suppose you will come with me. However, you will do exactly as I say.”

  He shrugged. The footman helped her into the carriage, then Matthew leapt inside and settled on the seat opposite her.

  When the carriage was two blocks from the earl’s estate, she had the driver stop. Of course, despite her commands, Matthew insisted on coming. James, also, refused to allow her to walk alone in the dark, and they left the footman with the carriage while they set out.

  They reached the east wall that Matthew had climbed over to cut across Chesterfield’s lawn. When they turned the street corner, Anne said, “James, I know this is an odd request, but I’m asking that you wait outside the gate while I continue on. I’ll be safe enough once we’re on the earl’s estate.”

  He nodded, but she knew he wondered what she was up to. At least, with Matthew present, James wouldn’t think she was meeting another gentleman.

  They reached the wrought iron gate, which stood open. James remained at the entrance. Anne pulled her cloak tighter about her as she and Matthew kept walking. A dim light shown in a ground floor window at the front of the house, which Anne guessed to be a parlor. Another light flickered in a third-floor window. That, she estimated to be the earl’s bed chambers. Thankfully, the curtains were drawn. More soft line shone in two windows on the top floor where the servants would be.

  They hurried around the drive on the right side of the house, then slowed. This side of the house was completely dark, except for a meager light that flickered against closed drapes in a fourth story window.

  “That’s the window,” James whispered.

  Anne’s heart began to pound. Was his story really true? On the carriage ride, she’d considered half a dozen explanations for his story, not the least of which, that he knew just enough of current events to have fabricated the tale. She had to admit, his story contained some strange coincidences. Rose claimed to have been kidnapped just about the time she met Kennedy. But what could her meeting and marriage to Kennedy have to do with his sister? And how could someone claim to be kidnapped while still living in their home? It wouldn’t really be called kidnapping. But a woman could be held prisoner in her own home.

  Now that they were here, she had no idea how she would go about proving the truth, one way or the other. She scanned the wall for a door. There would be some sort of entrance on the side of the house. Of course, that door would be locked. She spotted a door farther down the side of the building, and hurried forward. As expected, it was locked.

  It was only ten-thirty. Despite the light in the earl’s room, he would likely be asleep. Jacqueline, too, was probably abed. Most of the servants would take advantage of the quiet and would retire to their rooms or go to bed, for they would have to rise early to complete their morning duties. Still, a few servants might be in the kitchen working or socializing.

  When they turned the corner of the building she saw another door, this one smaller than the last. The other door they’d seen, while a side entrance, was clearly for visitors. This door, however, was a rear servants’ entrance. She tried the knob and was surprised when it turned. Slowly, she inched the door open. Enough moonlight illuminated the room for her to recognize some sort of pantry. On a shelf to the left, sat several tapers and a tinder box. This entrance was in use.

  Anne entered and lit a candle, then faced Matthew and whispered, “Remain here.”

  “I cannae let you go alone, my lady. I am responsible for you.”

  “Do you disobey your mother like this?” she asked in frustration.

  “I never knew my mother,” he said. “She died when I was little. It’s just me and my father.”

  That explained much. She should have had the footman carry Matthew back to the house and tie him to a chair, but she hadn’t thought of it. Anne turned and he followed as she crept forward and entered a modest kitchen. This section of the mansion clearly was intended for someone who might want to live away from the main part of the house. She located service stairs immediately to the right and they climbed to the fourth floor. Anne halted at sight of the tiny sliver of light shining into the pitch black hallway from beneath a door up ahead.

  Her heart began to pound. What should she do? If Lady Rose was in the room—and if her warden was with her—how would she help the girl? Should she return home and wait for Kennedy? Should she rouse someone in the house, the earl or his wife?

  She looked at Matthew, who nodded toward the light. Anne nodded acknowledgement and they crept
to the door. She knocked lightly. Silence followed. With a deep breath, she grasped the knob and slowly twisted it. To her surprise, the knob turned. Why would they leave the door unlocked if they were keeping the girl prisoner? If Rose had lied—or if Matthew had lied—then she was making a huge mistake by being here.

  Her hand shook, but she forced calm and eased the door open. First, she caught sight of a table and two chairs that sat before a hearth wherein a low fire burned. A tea pot and two cups sat on the table, along with a sugar bowl and cream. No one cried out, and Anne stepped into the room. To the left, sat a fourposter bed. A young woman lay in the bed, the blankets pulled up beneath her arms.

  “Excuse me,” Anne called, but the girl didn’t reply.

  Anne whispered to Matthew, “This is a lady’s room. You remain here while I wake her.”

  Thankfully, he nodded agreement this time. She crossed to the bed and drew a sharp breath at sight of the bruise on the girl’s cheek. Matthew hadn’t lied. Anne set her taper on the nightstand, then grasped the girl’s shoulder and gently shook her.

  The girl’s eyes fluttered open and her brow knit. “Rebecca?” The word was slurred, as if she had ingested laudanum.

  Anger shot through Anne. Here was the reason they hadn’t locked the door. The girl couldn’t stand, much less escape.

  “I am Kennedy’s wife,” Anne said.

  Her frown deepened. “Kennedy? Is he here?” A tear slid down the side of her face.

  Anne’s heart constricted. “Can you tell me what has happened?”

  Rose squeezed her eyes closed and more tears fell.

  “Are you being held against your will?”

  Her eyes shot open. “Rebecca will return and she will be angry.”

  “Shh, I am here,” Anne soothed. “You have nothing to fear.” Anne wasn’t at all certain that was true.