The Convenient Bride

by Winchester, Catherine

  “Oh, thank heavens!”

  “Father?” Max tried to open his eyes but the light hurt and he quickly closed them again.

  “I’m here, Maxwell. You had me very worried for a time there.”

  “Where are we?” Max asked. He was sitting upright, although hunched over until he woke up. He tried to move his legs and realised that they were also bound at the ankles.

  “To be honest, I’m not sure.”

  “What happened?” Max began blinking, trying to get used to the light.

  “You don’t remember?”

  “Not much.”

  “We were attacked by highwaymen and now it appears we have been kidnapped.”

  Finally Max could look around and realised that were in what looked like a disused tack room, their hands bound behind them to the wooden saddle horse that was affixed to the floor in the middle of the room. They were side by side, about four feet apart.

  “How long was I unconscious?”

  “I can’t be certain but around sixteen or seventeen hours.”

  “It’s morning?”

  “Yes. I didn’t sleep much so I could be wrong, but I’d guess it is about eight o’clock.”

  Max looked to the window and realised from the angle of the light and shadows, that the sun was still fairly low against the horizon, meaning that his father probably wasn’t far off in his estimation.

  “What about you, did they hurt you?”

  “I tried to fight them which aggravated my chest a little. I assume they got tired of my coughing though, because one of them found some laudanum, which has helped.”

  Max grinned.

  “That pleases you?” Charles asked.

  “If they’re worried about noise, that means we can’t be very far away from other dwellings, which means we won’t have far to go to raise the alarm.”

  “Or my cough irritated them, as I said.”

  “Don’t get defeatist on me now, Father, there is a way out of this.”

  “Defeatist? I’ve had to watch you lying completely still for hours on end, unable to touch you and check on you myself, wondering the whole time if you would ever move again! I think I am entitled to be a little defeatist!”

  “Please, don’t yell,” Max said, screwing up his eyes against the throb that his father’s words caused in his head. “I’m sorry.” Unlike Max, his father had been awake and essentially alone for the past sixteen hours, so it was little wonder that he was more pessimistic.

  “Me too, Max.” Max could hear the catch in his father’s voice but he didn’t open his eyes, knowing that his father didn’t like to be overly emotional.

  After a few minutes to let the pounding in his head quieten to a dull throbbing, Max began asking questions.

  “How many of them are there?”

  “Three took us but there was a fourth man; well bred, from the aristocracy if I'm not mistaken. The others take their orders from him.”

  Max had a good idea who that might be. “Has he said anything about why he kidnapped us?”

  “We’re being held to ransom, apparently but that was all he would say.”

  “You said there was a fourth man?”

  “I can’t be sure but I think he might have stayed there; I haven’t seen him since we arrived here.”

  “Have they fed or watered you?”

  “Both, and they took me to an outside bathroom last evening.”

  “How many?”

  “All three, and they all have pistols.”

  Max began to nod thoughtfully, until he realised it hurt and stopped.

  “Do they cover their faces?”

  “The ruffians do, the gentleman doesn’t.”

  “Then he either plans to kill us, or escape in some fashion.”

  His father gasped and then began coughing. As the hacking coughs continued, Max became worried that his father might suffocate, unable to get enough breath.

  “What can I do?” Max asked, feeling completely helpless.

  Charles was unable to answer until he finally managed to pause for a moment, then he took a few gasping breaths, coughed a few more times and then sat panting.

  “Nothing you… can do, Son. The laudanum is wearing off… that’s all.”

  A few moments later they heard footsteps and the door crashed open.

  “Ya both up! Boss lady will be pleased,” said the man. He was wearing shabby clothes that had been darned many times, a folder kerchief over his nose and lower face and was of a strong, muscular build; probably a manual worker. Max saw that he had a bottle and spoon with him.

  “Boss lady?” Max asked.

  “Yeah, she’ll be along to see ya soon.” He knelt down by Charles and carefully poured some of the liquid onto the spoon. “Sorry I din’ bring it sooner, thought it best to let you rest.”

  Charles nodded his understanding. “You’re very kind.”

  The man shrugged his shoulders, seemingly uncomfortable with the praise. He carefully levelled the spoon to Charles’ lips and tipped the liquid in, catching a stray drop with the spoon, then wiping his chin clean with a rather ragged handkerchief.

  “There, you’ll do.” He got to his feet. “Now, I suppose you’ll both be needing a piss, you especially,” he nodded to Max.

  Max nodded, unsure how to respond to such a vulgar statement.

  “I’ll get the others but no funny business,” he told them and left. Perhaps five minutes later he returned with two friends who were similarly dressed, though one had ginger hair and one was quite small, possibly only a youth. “Now one of us is going to stay here and hold a gun on your dad,” he told Max. “If anything happens to us, if they hear any sounds of a struggle or if we aren’t back quickly, your dad gets it, all right?”

  Max nodded his understanding. If it were just him and the ruffians, he might try to take them, even while unarmed but with one holding a gun on his father, there was no way he would risk trying to escape, not even if the perfect opportunity presented itself.

  Since he didn’t know their names, he thought of the captors as Big, Youth and Ginger.

  Big and Youth untied him while Ginger kept his gun, a duelling pistol, aimed at Charles. Max did everything he was told but looked around as he was taken outside, trying his best to discreetly see what was around them. The house that the stables were associated with was a fairly large farmhouse, perhaps consisting of four or five bedrooms. The grounds were well tended, although the stables were clearly empty and judging from the early signs of rot setting in on the stable doors, they had clearly been neglected for some time.

  What kind of person lived in a house this big but didn’t require horses?

  He looked over the tree line and saw what he thought was smoke in the distance. Was that evidence of another house? If they could get there, would they be friend or foe? He thought it likely that Giles and Marie were staying in this farmhouse, but possibly not.

  Back in the tack room Big tied Max up again then held his gun on him while Youth and Ginger untied Charles.

  “Same goes for you,” Big told his father, as he took the duelling pistol from Ginger and levelled it at Max.

  Charles nodded his understanding.

  “Why are you doing this?” Max asked once the others had left.

  “I’ve got a family to feed.”

  “Can’t you get work?”

  “I had work, until the machines came in. They’ve fired half the factory since they started bringing those machines in.”

  “I have a family as well,” Max said. “In fact, we’re not long married and we’ve already lost one child thanks to Marie’s schemes.

  Big shot him a glare, proving Max’s theory correct.

  “’Ow’d you know it was her?”

  “Because she’s become obsessed with me. Please, I know you’re a good man, if you can help us escape or get word to the authorities, I’ll make sure you and your friends stay out of jail and I will personally find you employment.”

  “Why should
I believe a toff like you? You’re all only interested in money; don’t care nothing for regular folks.”

  “We have two orphanages, one in London and one in Canterbury. My wife even volunteers there two days a week.”

  “To ease your conscience, no doubt.”

  “That’s not true. We’ve not long worked out a deal with five of our tenants so they didn’t have to be evicted or thrown in debtors’ prison, and we have employed them on the estate so that their families can stay together.”

  Big looked doubtful.

  “I think you have some degree of affection for my father already, no?”

  “He seems like an all right sorta fella,” Big grunted.

  “He is, and he’s dying. Even if you won’t help me, please get him out of here. It’s almost November and sleeping on a stone floor won’t be doing his consumption any good. Marie really only wants me, she won’t miss my father. If you do that, I’ll still honour our deal and won’t press charges against you and your friends.”

  “He can’t disappear without you. Madam won’t like that at all.”

  “Then help us both but please, my father has a year to live at most, who knows what damage keeping him here in the cold, and without his drugs and doctor might do?”

  They stopped talking then as the others could be heard returning. Charles was tied up again and Big avoided both captives’ gaze as he left.

  Once their footsteps had faded, Max began rubbing his wrist bonds against the leg of the wooden horse they were tied to.

  “What are you doing?” Charles asked.

  “The rope looks old; I'm hoping with a bit of work, I can rub through it.”

  “I don’t think it’s that old, Son.”

  “I can’t just sit here. Lucy will be going insane with worry, to say nothing of the frenzy Mother will have worked herself into.”

  Charles nodded sadly and although he thought the attempt was futile, he didn’t say anything else. It must have been close to an hour before more footsteps approached but these were lighter. Charles and Max shared a questioning look and seconds later, the door opened to reveal Marie.

  She strode into the room and gave a pitying look to both men.

  “How sad that it has come to this,” she said.

  “You can drop the act, Mary, I know you aren’t French. In fact, you were born in Wiltshire, the illegitimate daughter of Lord Ashcroft.”

  Marie shrugged. “That was then, this is now.” She still spoke with a French accent.

  “So what’s your plan now?” he asked. “Are you going to kill me?”

  “Of course not, Max, I love you too much for that.”

  “Then what?”

  She flashed him a wicked smile. “I'm going to kill Lucy.”

  Max felt his heart stop for a moment as a cold chill ran through his body.

  “Why?” Charles demanded. “She has done nothing to you!”

  “Because if I can’t have Max, no one can.”

  She got down on her knees beside Max and tried to kiss him but he moved his head away. It was a futile attempt since he couldn’t move very far and finally she grabbed two handfuls of his hair and planted a big kiss on his mouth. Max kept his lips firmly pressed together and after a few minutes of trying to tempt him, Marie gave up.

  “Oh Max, we could have been so good together, but you never appreciated me. I was always just your whore.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” Max said. “I was never in love with you, not the way you wanted, but I was your friend.”

  “I don’t need friends, Max.”

  “You don’t have any friends, Mary, because no one knows who you really are.”

  Marie shrugged. “But I can make any man I want fall in love with me; except you, the only man I wanted.”

  “You should know that if anything happens to Lucy, I will hunt you down until my dying day.” His words were spoken calmly, and all the more menacing for that.

  “Oh, I don’t intend to stay here, Max. Once I have the ransom, I can go anywhere in the world, start again, meet someone who is worthy of my love.”

  “If you really loved me, you wouldn’t be able to leave me behind,” Max bluffed.

  “But I can, because I know that you will be suffering as I have suffered, as I continue to suffer.”

  “You call unrequited love suffering? You don’t know what suffering is but if you harm one hair on Lucy’s head, you will.”

  “I was going to clean that cut on your head but I can see that you are just as stubborn and obstinate as ever.” Marie pursed her lips together and got to her feet, dusting off her dress as she stood. “Don’t worry, Maxwell, you will see your Lucy one more time before she dies. I intend to make you watch while Giles and my men make her scream, then when you have suffered enough, I’ll shoot her.”

  “Don’t worry though, I’ll post a letter from the port I leave from, telling someone where you are.”

  “And where are we?”

  “My mother’s house.” She smiled. “Lucy should be here by tonight, so you will soon be reunited with your love.”

  “She’ll never raise a ransom in a day.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that, you have told me how resourceful she is.”

  “Giles will betray you, you know.”

  “I know, but not if I betray him first.” She smiled. “I’ll have some breakfast sent in shortly, you will need your strength to watch while Lucy dies.”

  “My God, she’s insane,” Charles said once the door had closed.

  Max was slowly realising just how dangerous she was. Why had he never noticed her insanity before?

  “We can’t be far from London,” Charles noted. “Lucy will need to collect the ransom from the bank before it closes, then to get here by dark, so we probably aren’t more than two or three hours from London, maybe closer.”

  “Do you know how long it took us to get here?”

  “I'm afraid not. They put a dark hood over our faces and by the time we got here, it was already dark.”

  Max nodded. He knew from Mr Pennington that Marie’s mother had lived near Croydon, in a house paid for by her lover, Lord Ashcroft. She had been dead for five years now but clearly the house was being kept up.

  None of this helped him escape though, so he began sawing his bonds against the wood again, more determined than ever to get free.

  Big came back about half an hour after Marie had left, with a plate of bread, which he helped them to eat since their hands were bound. He knelt down beside Charles first and slowly fed him the slices.

  “You know, Marie intends to kill my daughter?” Charles said to him.

  His eyes grew wide with surprise. “She din’ say nothing; about killin’.”

  “That’s what she intends, she told us herself, after you and your friends rape her and make Maxwell watch. She’s a monster.”

  “Lady Stark is your sister-in-law,” Big corrected.

  “She is an orphan and has lived with my family for many years. I love her like a daughter.”

  Big looked uncomfortable but didn’t make any reply. When he fed Max, he too didn’t say anything, believing that his father’s unspoken plea was enough to get this man thinking and if he pushed too hard, Big might just be bull-headed enough not to help.

  He seemed intelligent, as if desperation had driven him to this action rather than malice, so it was better to leave him to make up his own mind.

  Chapter Twenty

  The ransom demand arrived just after breakfast the following morning, delivered by another tenant. It instructed Lucy to go to her bank in London to collect the ransom, then to her London home, where another letter would be waiting with directions for where to take the money.

  Lucy worried about leaving the house, not only in case May and Donald sent a messenger but also because of leaving Eleanor alone. She asked for Arthur to be saddled, as he was the fastest horse in the stable. When the groom objected since he wasn’t schooled to ride side-saddle, Lucy told
the shocked groom that she would be riding astride.

  Then she went in search of Eleanor’s lady’s maid, Mason, and asked her to keep a close eye on her mistress, before changing into her riding habit and going to see Eleanor. She manufactured an excuse that a messenger had come with news that the business deal could be lucrative for her estate, as well as Charles’ but since it was in trust, she was needed to sign certain papers.

  Eleanor was beginning to look suspicious but she just nodded her acceptance and wished Lucy good luck.

  Lucy headed to the stables to find Arthur saddled and knowing that she skirt wouldn’t allow her the freedom to ride astride, she shimmied out of it so she was clad in only her chamois breeches. Whoever had saddled Arthur had also secured two saddlebags behind the saddle, and she tucked the skirt into one of them.

  Since time was of the essence and the grooms were gaping at her, open mouthed, she urged Arthur into a trot as she jogged beside him and used the momentum to vault into the saddle. As soon as she was seated, she urged Arthur into a gallop, even before she had found the stirrups.

  It was Max who had taught her these riding tricks and Max who insisted she sometimes ride astride, so as to better keep up with him.

  As they galloped, Lucy thought back to what she had read last night, about Madam Marie Poisson.

  The investigators had discovered that her real name was Mary Pond and that she was born in 1794; the illegitimate daughter of the widowed Lord Raymond Ashcroft and maid, Sarah Pond. Although she was 29, she presently claimed the age of 22.

  It seems that although Lord Ashcroft was over twenty years Sarah’s senior, he had a genuine affection for the woman and his child, keeping them in a very nice home with servants and visiting them as often as he could.

  From speaking to former servants, Mr Pennington learned that Mary was a precocious child but as she grew older, became more insolent and insulting. Mary believed, they said, that she had as much right to enter Society as his legitimate children and had her mother been of higher class and her father of a higher peerage, she might well have but as the daughter of a housemaid and a Baron, she simply could not be presented at Court.