Only a Hero Will Do

by Susan Lodge

  It took Robert ten seconds to establish Handy wasn’t dead. He had returned from the Dog and Duck in his usual state. As a rule, he made his way to his bed or just lay down on the kitchen floor – but not tonight.

  Robert carried the man to his bed, checked for broken bones, then left him. He really would have to think seriously about servants. Surely he paid Handy to look after him!

  ***

  Hetty settled back on the pillows, admiring the blue and lemon drapes around the bed.

  She had dismissed Annie, not wanting to endure her stiff-lipped disapproval for a second longer than necessary. Annie had interrupted the most wonderful experience of Hetty’s life, and she felt quite out of sorts with her maid.

  Much as she enjoyed knowing Doctor Withington, she had a feeling that knowing him as Robert was going to be even more enjoyable. She closed her eyes and tried to remember every detail of that glorious kiss.

  Had she been too forward? She should not have responded quite so eagerly. But it all felt so right, even though it was so wrong. Oh, what did it matter? She was already ruined – several times over. No! She did not regret that kiss one bit.

  Her thoughts were diverted by the sound of loud, tuneless singing.

  Where are you, Mary, now I‘m back from sea,

  Ready to make you mine?

  “Handy! Stow that noise or you’ll be sleeping in the duck pond.” Robert’s voice from downstairs seemed to make the walls vibrate, and Hetty giggled.

  This place was so different from her home. Servants were silent and invisible at Avebury Hall, but even Annie had turned rebellious in her short employ with the doctor. He really needed someone to look after his household. What a pleasant job that would be, she thought with a smile.

  Soon the house returned to silence, and Hetty yawned. It had certainly been a most educating, exhausting, and exciting day.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The next morning, Annie brushed Hetty’s hair with an admonishing look in her eye. Hetty’s anger with her maid turned to embarrassment. Annie had been acting as her chaperone and her interference last night had been perfectly correct.

  “It ain’t proper, miss! Physician or not, he shouldn’t be alone with you, and he definitely shouldn’t be taking liberties.”

  That was true. She had been hopelessly compromised, and she did not care one whit. She winced under the tug of the hairbrush as Annie rattled on.

  “And it ain’t right, having strange women visitors. They should not be here unescorted.”

  “I’m hardly a stranger, Annie. The doctor and I are well acquainted.” Annie’s eyebrows arched in disapproval, and Hetty fumbled for words. “I don’t suppose he makes a habit of entertaining women. He is an honourable man.”

  She saw in the mirror’s reflection that Annie was tight-lipped with a knowing expression. Hetty turned to confront her.

  “Annie, does he? Does the doctor entertain women?”

  This was terrible, questioning servants about their master, but her curiosity pushed propriety out of the window. Annie knew something. She reached up and stilled the hairbrush.

  “What sort of women visitors, Annie?”

  Annie shook her head. “I’m not sure. But he had a visitor last week, a blonde lady. Beautiful she was, even dressed in black. She came with a fine gent – her father, I believe.”

  Hetty felt like her stomach had been kicked.

  “Rose,” she whispered, that now familiar feeling of betrayal sweeping through her. “Were they here long?”

  “They came to dinner on Tuesday, but the following evening the lady returned alone. Well, she had her groom with her, but he stayed outside. The doctor was with her in his study and I…well, I heard him lock the door behind them. When the lady left later, I overheard her say she would see him soon, and he said not to worry. He would be going back to Longwood next week, and he would explain things to her father. Then he kissed her goodbye.”

  “They kissed,” Hetty repeated quietly, her heart breaking at the thought of it.

  “Dash it, Miss Hetty. I could rip me tongue out, but I thought you should know. It was just a goodbye kiss, a peck on the cheek – nothing passionate-like.”

  Maybe not. But what were they doing behind the locked doors of the study?

  ***

  Hetty wandered down the stairs half an hour later, determined to keep her dignity intact. She had come to ask for the doctor’s help. After obtaining his advice, she would leave as quickly as possible.

  Handy was busy in the dining room, unperturbed by his fall last night. He gave her a rather grumpy bow, pulled her out a chair, and then poured her coffee.

  “Breakfast will be in half an hour, miss. I didn’t expect you up at this hour, being a lady.”

  “Thank you, Handy. I always rise early, even after having rather a disturbed night. I thought I heard someone singing about a woman called Mary. I never really heard what happened to her in the end. Still, I suppose I could have dreamed it.”

  She heard him emit a low groan as he left the room.

  Hetty slipped out to the study to collect her reticule, which she had left there last night. She retrieved it from beside the desk then looked around the room, wondering what had transpired between Robert and Rose there.

  As she turned to go, her skirts brushed against the morning mail that had been set on the corner of the desk. A few items tumbled to the floor, so she bent to scoop them up. The address on one of the packets caught her eye as she replaced them on the desk.

  Lord Robert Withington – Earl of Chedbury. She heard Handy approaching, so she hastily turned and looked out of the window as he entered. Her mind was reeling.

  Earl of Chedbury – was he a relative? Was there something Doctor Withington hadn’t told her? He had said his family had lost everything, but he hadn’t said anything about a lost earldom. Surely he would have told her. Was he deep in the pockets after all? He had talked of repurchasing Longwood. Just how big was Longwood?

  ***

  “Good morning, Hetty.”

  Robert entered the breakfast room where Hetty was already seated.

  “Good morning, Doctor.” She gave him a rather curt smile.

  He sat down at the head of the table and glanced at her. She sounded cross – and it was back to Doctor. Was she upset by what had happened last night? He knew that his conduct had been deplorable, but he was going to do the right thing and make her life happy again.

  “I understand you are planning a trip back to Longwood soon.”

  Her words were clipped. She was angry. Robert frowned as he realised who had been supplying her with details of his private life.

  “Hetty, you should know it is bad form to obtain your information from servants.” He was going to have strong words with Annie later.

  Ignoring his rebuke, she continued. “You must not delay the journey for my sake. I should not have come here. I would not have if I had not been in such a confused state of mind. But it was unfair of me. I will leave this morning.”

  She gave him such a cold glare he feared it would make his coffee freeze over. He dismissed his one-armed servant with a nod. Handy headed toward the door then stopped to fiddle with the dishes on the side table.

  “You are not leaving this house on your own, Hetty. After last night, I have no intention of taking you anywhere but back to Avebury Hall.”

  “What!” Hetty dropped her knife and Robert turned back to his servant.

  “Handy! I said that was all, blast you!”

  Handy ambled out mumbling, and Robert turned back to Hetty.

  “I need to talk to your family again. This time, however, I will be asking for your hand in marriage. We will also get some answers about your parentage.”

  “You wish to marry me?” Her eyes had locked on his in wonder.

  “Of course I do, Hetty. I am honour-bound after what passed between us last night.”

  The joy on her face vanished in a moment, and Robert wanted to kick himself.


  “Honour-bound,” she repeated in a dangerously low voice. “Will that not interrupt your plans to visit Longwood? And incidentally, how is Rose? I hear she paid you a call quite recently. Two, actually.”

  Robert sat back in his chair and considered the leaf pattern on his coffee cup. How much detail had Annie passed to Hetty about his visitors last week?

  “I have business with her father, and now she is back under his roof for a while I will, of course, see her from time to time. We will be neighbours at Longwood.”

  “How very nice.”

  “She is still in mourning,” he said tersely.

  “Of course,” Hetty replied. “I was wondering, Doctor Withington, before I landed on your doorstep, had you planned to resume your relationship with Rose?”

  Roberts’s mouth tightened. “Hetty, you have it all wrong. I do not want to marry Rose. I want you.”

  “As you have already admitted, you are talking out of duty and I could not live with myself, or you, knowing your offer was made out of pity. I don’t even know who I am any more.”

  Robert took a deep breath. He was not prepared for this reaction.

  “I want to marry you, Hetty,” he repeated.

  He had made this decision after turning it over in his mind most of the night. Hetty had come back into his life, and he had taken advantage of her. And he had realised that he didn’t care about that because he had no intention of releasing her again. He and Rose had come to an understanding, although he could not desert her either, not at the moment.

  Hetty watched him closely. “You do not owe me anything, Robert. I sought you out. I welcomed your approaches last night, and I don’t hold you responsible. Besides, the Earl of Chedbury would not want to marry a bastard if he has a choice.”

  Robert’s hand stilled in the middle of buttering his toast and his anger flared.

  “Stop calling yourself that, Hetty. The fact that you are not the product of the Aveburys is a virtue, not something to be ashamed of.” He paused. “And how did you know about the title?”

  “There seems to be a lot I don’t know, my lord.”

  Robert sighed. “I only inherited the title after my brother died. Neither of us recognised it after the family ruin, and it certainly did not fit alongside being a physician.”

  The look she was giving him made his spirits plummet. How could he have made such a mess of a proposal?

  ***

  Hetty’s mind raced. If she hadn’t turned up on his doorstep, he would soon have been on his way back to Longwood. She had backed him into a corner. He wouldn’t have chosen her over Rose; he had been pining for the woman for the last ten years.

  She had to let him go. After all, it couldn't be more perfect for him – his old love and his old land in one neat package. Why throw it all away for marriage to a freckle-faced bastard attached to a mad family?

  She steadied her nerves and addressed him with as much dignity as she could muster. “I will be going to the Isle of Wight. I will secure a passage this afternoon.”

  He groaned. “Not again! Please, Hetty, promise me you will not try to get there again. God knows, you’ll probably land up in China. Hetty, we will be happy together. If you are due an inheritance, we will find out where it has come from. It will be your money. I will make sure of it.”

  The look in his eyes almost tipped her resolve, but all she could think of was a vision of Robert with Rose in his arms. Finally, she faced him again. Her tears were just under the surface, threatening to escape. She had to finish this.

  “I do not want to marry you, Doctor Withington. I do not love you.”

  He looked as if she had struck him. Slowly, he drained his coffee cup.

  “Very well,” he finally said, and took out his pocket watch to glance at it. “I have an urgent meeting this morning, Hetty, but I promise we will discuss this further when I return.”

  ***

  Hetty watched the doctor disappear down the front steps and knew she could not marry him. She felt sure that, given the choice, he would not choose her over Rose. The woman had haunted him when she was married to another; he wasn’t about to forget about her, not now that she was free again.

  Hetty had fallen in love last night, but in the cold light of morning it was clear that Robert’s heart really belonged to another woman. She would just have to manage her life alone.

  Hetty would disappear and Harry Blake, her male counterpart, would take over. She needed to earn some money and keep to herself until she was twenty-five, when she could claim her inheritance in her own right. Life was always more accessible when she was Harry, and more lively. She would, of course, remember to avoid all press-gangs this time.

  Funds, as usual, were a problem. And she realised she couldn’t really go to the Isle of Wight. That would be the first place he would search for her. She wondered if she dare go back to her old gambling haunts. No one knew her true identity there, and it was familiar country.

  Finding a game would be the best plan. With funds, she could employ someone to look into her affairs and find her true ancestry. Her real father was a good man – she felt it in her bones. After all, he had left her a rather large inheritance. She just had to find a way to support herself until she could collect it. She didn’t have to marry anyone. Once she had secured the funds, she would probably attract lots of suitors, and then she would do the choosing.

  A terrible thought ripped through her. Did her inheritance prompt Robert’s proposal? Was she worth enough to secure Longwood? Did the money make her more attractive than Rose?

  No! She would not believe that about Robert. He would not be motivated by her money.

  But it was true of Anthony, true of Stark, and true of her fake father. She had to get away – go somewhere safe – where she could figure things out on her own.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Robert sat behind his desk, his head resting in his hands.

  Where was the girl? He prayed she hadn’t found another ship to escape on. He had spread the word amongst the port officials and the captains of the ships moored in the harbour. He was fairly sure she wouldn’t be able to slip out of port as he had too many of his people looking for her.

  Annie had remained tight-lipped under questioning, and he wished Hetty had taken the girl with her. He hated thinking she was out there all on her own. There was no limit to the trouble she could get into. He had blamed Annie at first. Hetty would never have taken off if she had not opened her mouth about Rose’s visit. But it was poor sport to blame the maid. It stood to reason that she would owe more loyalty to Hetty than to him.

  He had failed Hetty again. His proposal had been clumsy; he realised that now. But he had thought she loved him. Damn it! He was completely useless at understanding the female mind. Had he really mistaken the look in her eyes last night and the times before? He didn’t think so.

  In any case, she needed his help. He thought back over her last escapades when she had fallen out of the tree and then turned up on the ship. If he hadn’t been there, God knows what might have happened.

  She couldn’t have much money on her. He tensed as he remembered Dan Dickens’ comment.

  Gambling was Miss Avebury’s way of earning money.

  Surely she wouldn’t. Yes, she would, he thought grimly as he hurried to the door.

  “Handy!” he shouted.

  The man was an awful servant, but he did have an extensive knowledge of the county and what was going on in the various establishments. Half a mile from Avebury Hall was where he had first picked her up with a bag full of winnings. Perhaps she had not travelled too far, after all.

  Was she travelling under disguise? He groaned. He had to find her before she discovered her luck was not going to last forever. And when he did, he was going to take serious measures to dissuade her from gambling ever again.

  His first call, though, would be to Henry Avebury. He wanted some answers. Perhaps now was the time to use his title. It was fairly useless, except when one wan
ted people’s attention.

  ***

  “You are the Earl of Chedbury?” Henry Avebury screwed his face up in disbelief.

  Robert glared back at the man. “Surely you cannot have any problem with your daughter marrying an earl. Funds are nowhere near the wealth my family previously possessed, but I can take care of Miss Avebury with or without her money. If she agrees to marry me, then her inheritance will remain in her control. I want no part of it. Whether she wishes to help her miserable family will be her decision. Although, now she realises you have deceived her all these years, she may well tell the lot of you to go to hell.”

  Avebury sank back in his chair, taking his time to reply.

  “So you know Hetty is not of my own blood. Despite that fact, I have always treated her well and brought her up as a lady. I am afraid your offer cannot be accepted as Hetty is betrothed to my son, and I understood she was perfectly happy with the arrangement.” A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead, and he mopped it with his handkerchief. “Am I to understand that Hetty is under your roof, Doctor? That is extremely improper.”

  Robert faltered for a minute. “I have no idea where she is at present, but when I find her, she will have my protection – especially from the treatment of the Aveburys.”

  “Don’t look so superior, Doctor. You are not aware of the full story. Perhaps you should have asked for her hand when you returned her the first time. Or is it the knowledge of her inheritance that has prompted this proposal?”

  Robert leaned over the desk, then checked himself and forced his palms down on the polished surface instead of around Avebury’s neck. The old man looked ill; he had the familiar pallor of a man who had little time left for this world. He could hardly fight with a sick man.

  “I thought I had returned her to a secure home, safe from any further miserable matches, but instead I find the Avebury treachery knows no bounds when trying to secure funds. You would marry her off to your son just to keep in control of her money.”