The Accidental Abduction

by Darcie Wilde

  Leannah groped for the stool by Jeremy’s battered writing desk, and sat down heavily. “That was wrong of you.”

  “Was not. You’re my sister, and he’s got no business talking about you.”

  “All right, Jeremy, all right.” She waved her hand. “Yes, I’m married. His name is Harry Rayburn, and I am now Mrs. Rayburn. At the moment, that’s all there is to the story.”

  “Is not.”

  “If you’re going to interrogate me, Jeremy, you will at least use proper grammar.”

  Her brother rolled his eyes. “It is not, Sister dear. I am quite certain there is much more to this tale than you have said so far. For example, did . . .”

  Leannah did not wait for him to finish. “Does Father know?”

  Jeremy pushed himself up onto his elbows, his face suddenly serious. As difficult as Father’s long illness had been for Leannah and Genny, it had been worse for Jeremy. He was young now, but he was growing fast. He had a quick mind and an engaging air. He also had his father who sat trembling in his study, afraid to go out of doors and entirely unable to aid or advise a youth who must soon find his own way in the world of men.

  “I don’t think he does know,” Jeremy said. “Aunt’s been sitting with him the whole time, so I can’t really tell.” He paused and Leannah’s breath caught in her throat at the set of his jaw and the clarity of his gaze. He looked like their father, back in the very beginning, before she understood how his determination to make them rich kept their lives turning around in a vicious circle.

  “Will your getting married fix things?” asked Jeremy.

  “Of course it will,” said Genny stoutly. “Hasn’t Lea always fixed things whenever we’ve been in trouble?”

  That might be true, but trouble kept coming back. Jeremy understood this as well as any of them, and that understanding showed in the way his doubtful gaze did not waver in the least.

  “I don’t know,” Leannah sighed. “But it might.”

  “You shouldn’t have to keep getting married to fix things. It’s . . . it’s . . . unseemly. When I come into my own, you’ll never have to again. I’ll take care of us all.”

  Leannah touched her brother’s shoulder. She thought to hug him, but he was on his dignity now and she didn’t want to let him know she still saw him as a little boy. “I know you will, Jeremy. But right now, we must all hang together as best we can.” She took Genny’s hand, making a circle of the three of them. “That means taking care of each other, and making sure as much of this as possible stays in the family, all right?” Her siblings nodded solemnly, and Leannah felt a twinge beneath her ribs. “It also means no more knocking down the other boys.” She shook Jeremy’s shoulder and tried to speak lightly. “If anyone asks you what happened, you say your sister got married quietly, and there’s nothing more to it than that. Getting into fights will just make people believe the worst.”

  The look on Jeremy’s face all but broke her heart. She’d lost count of the number of times she’d delivered similar instructions: Stay quiet. Don’t fan the flames of rumor. Keep up appearances. Hide the truth behind closed doors.

  It was no wonder the boy was turning devious. She’d been teaching him to lie since he could talk.

  “All right, I won’t do it again,” muttered Jeremy, but that mercenary gleam showed in his Morehouse green eyes. “But only if you tell me what’s really going on.”

  “And now it’s blackmail!” Genny threw up her hands.

  “Well, what am I supposed to do? You won’t tell me anything.”

  Leannah put up her hands to forestall what was in danger of becoming a real quarrel.

  “Jeremy, Genny, stop. I will tell you everything I can, as soon as I can. That’s a promise. Just now, however, I have to go speak with Father.”

  “Of course. We’ll wait here.” Genny said this directly to Jeremy.

  Leannah left the room before she had to acknowledge the way Jeremy muttered, “Will not.”

  The stairs creaked underfoot as Leannah descended. With each step, dread rose around her. When she was with Harry, everything had seemed new. In his arms, she had found a dream of the future, and for once that future was clear and uncluttered.

  But could she hold on to that dream? Here in the dingy rented house, where her troubles seemed to whisper to her from the very walls, Leannah was no longer sure. She’d dreamed of new beginnings, for her siblings and for herself before. But they’d started over so many times, and they had always ended up in the same place—scrambling, and hiding.

  If that happened this time, it was Harry she’d drag down into trouble with them, just as she had dragged Elias.

  No, she told herself sternly. I was just a girl with Elias. I was blind and trying to believe. I will not let Harry be hurt, whatever happens.

  “Lea.”

  Leannah jumped. She’d been so lost in her thoughts she hadn’t heard Genny following her down the stairs.

  “I’m sorry,” said her sister. “I know I told you I’d wait, but I didn’t want to say this in front of Jeremy. Is everything . . . all right? With Mr. Rayburn? And, well, being married?”

  “Yes,” Leannah replied at once. “Better than I could have believed.”

  This did not seem to reassure Genny much. “You’ve set up at the Colonnade? That’s quite expensive.”

  Leannah frowned. Her sister was not given to murmuring about such matters. “Genny, what’s wrong?”

  “It’s just me fretting over nothing, I’m sure.” The forced cheerfulness of this statement was painfully obvious. “But you should perhaps know I overheard Bishop and Mrs. Falwell talking about the bills. The grocer’s not going to extend us any more credit.”

  “Oh. Well. I’ll go talk with him.” She thought about the money Harry’d given her. She hadn’t counted it, but surely there was enough there to renew the grocer’s good faith.

  This should have made her feel better. She should have moved at once to reassure Genny, but Leannah remained silent. This was her first day away from her husband, and it seemed that all she was doing was using his money to pay her family’s debts. She remembered the look Dawes had given her and that memory was like a smear of soot across her skin.

  She was sure Genny saw that thought in her. Her sister looked ashamed. She was thinking she’d driven Leannah into disgrace.

  Or is it just me? Have I conjured up a dream of love for Harry Rayburn to try to convince myself that that is not what’s happened?

  No. That is not what happened. I will not let it be.

  Leannah glanced up to the top of the staircase, looking for Jeremy. But of course, if the boy were listening, he’d be too canny to stand where he could be seen.

  She took her sister’s elbow and moved them a little farther out of the stairwell. “What else, Genny?” Leannah asked softly.

  “Mr. Valloy came by yesterday. He said he had an appointment to call on you.”

  Leannah blanched. Mr. Valloy had been calling to make his marriage proposal, the one she’d given him every reason to believe she was prepared to accept. Except that when he’d come to make the thing formal, she’d been driving down the road with her new husband. Leannah closed her eyes.

  “He was angry,” said Genny.

  “He has a right to be,” said Leannah. Think of Harry, she told herself. Think of all that you’ve done and all you will do. Think about your private vows when you married him. You knew then this would not be easy. You cannot shrink from it now. “I’ll write to him as soon as I’ve spoken to Father.” She glanced down at the diamond band on her smallest finger, which Jeremy had spotted right away. Father’s mind and eyesight were nothing like so clear, and yet it would not do for this stone to make the announcement for her yet again.

  Leannah twisted Harry’s ring from her finger.

  “You’d better take this.” She handed it to her sister. “Father’s sure to notice it.”

  Genny held the ring up in her two fingers. The scrupulous look she leveled against it ow
ed more to the jeweler than to a romantic girl looking at a lovely wedding ring. It crossed Leannah’s mind that her sister doubted whether the diamond was genuine. “But you are going to tell him, aren’t you?” asked Genny.

  The remark stung. “Of course I am, but I’d like to tell the story in its proper order and not have him jump to conclusions, like Jeremy did.”

  It was plain Genny had yet more on her mind, but there was no time for that now. Leannah already felt her nerve straining. She had to face her father and tell him. She could not delay things any longer, especially not after Genny’s reminder that Father was not the only man with whom she must speak regarding her new status as a married woman.

  Leannah turned her back on her sister, dragged her composure together, and walked into the study.

  Twenty-Four

  It felt like a thousand years since Leannah had left this room in such a rush, and it felt like no time at all. Almost everything was as she left it. The ledger still lay firmly shut on the desk guarded by the neat piles of bills and correspondence. The fire had been allowed to burn low in the grate to save coal, and the curtains were drawn close to save father’s nerves.

  Father himself sat on the sofa, asleep with his chin on his breast and his old green dressing gown wrapped loosely around him. The only other person in the room was little Aunt Clarence, who put down her embroidery the moment Leannah entered to totter over to meet her.

  “I’m so glad you’re back, Leannah.” She murmured the words so as not to disturb Father. “Are you quite well, my dear?”

  Aunt Clarence was a tiny bird of a woman, complete with big brown eyes and a crooked, beaky nose. Her years as a clergyman’s wife had not been easy. She spent her days performing the sort of charity work that had little to do with drawing room committees and much to do with going from house to house through the slums and rookeries. Her labors had left her joints stiff and swollen and her breath short. Despite this, her energy showed in her kind, clear gaze and she embraced her wayward niece readily.

  “I am quite well, Aunt.” Leannah pressed her cheek to the older woman’s. “I suppose Uncle’s told you what’s happened?”

  “Of course he has. He’s been very worried about you, as have I.”

  “I’m sorry to have made so much trouble. How has father been?”

  “Quiet and calm,” she answered and relief rushed through Leannah. “He thinks you’ve been with Mrs. Watersen.”

  “So Genny told me. You can go now, Aunt. I’ll sit with him until he wakes up.”

  “Leannah, I know that whatever you’ve done, you’ve done with the best of intentions . . .”

  Leannah’s mind drifted back to the money, and the debts it would pay. She tried to see past it, to Harry and all they had already shared, but it was so hard here with all her oldest doubts and fears crowding around her. “I hope that’s true, Aunt,” she murmured. “You will forgive me, but I do need to be alone for a moment.”

  “Yes, of course,” replied Aunt Clarence. “I’ll just go check on Genny.” She moved away, but Leannah stopped her.

  “My reticule is on the table in the hall. Will you see if there’s enough in there for Bishop to go pay the grocer and the collier?”

  An unmistakable flicker of concern crossed Aunt Clarence’s face but Leannah turned away, quickly, casually, as if no one could possibly consider anything wrong with the request, or the circumstances. Of course, that was not true. She just had to hope her aunt was willing to let her pretend.

  It seemed that she was, because Aunt Clarence took her leave without further comment. Leannah closed the door behind her with a sigh. She crossed the room to the hearth and very carefully poked up the fire. With a feeling of grim determination, she laid half a dozen fresh coals on the blaze. Then she went to the window and carefully lifted the edge of the drape. It was as if she needed to reassure herself that there was still a world outside and that she had not fallen into some sort of isolated nightmare.

  But the street was there. A light rain had begun outside, and it lent a shimmer to the paving stones. Harry was out there someplace, in St. James Square to be precise, talking with his own family. She hoped, for both their sakes, it was going more smoothly than her encounter with her own family had so far.

  Father shifted uneasily on the sofa and Leannah let the curtain fall closed. She sat down on the faded horsehair chair by the hearth and folded her hands. Her finger felt bare without Harry’s ring. She wished he was beside her to fill this chill room with his good spirits and his banter.

  We’ll be back together soon. She rubbed her bare hands together. We will.

  She looked at Father. Sleep had relaxed his face, but did nothing to remove the sadness. That worn expression of regret was as familiar to Leannah as his glow of pride and elation. It had accompanied each turn of their fortunes.

  She tried to think what she would say when he woke, but the words would not come. The last time she and her father had spoken of marriage, he’d been at the height of his confidence and his power. They’d been back in Devon then, but not in their own house. The story they’d put about the neighborhood was that they’d taken the cottage because the larger house was in drastic need of repairs. They said that they had decided they would buy some land to build new, but until the sight was chosen, they would stay in this snug little cottage.

  Father’s study in the cottage had been lovely and sunny. His books and papers filled it to the brim, and the stacks of newspapers and magazines covered every empty surface. She’d remembered her heart was beating fast with anticipation as he sat her down on the leather sofa. She’d been so sure he was going to tell her that their fortunes had turned, and that she was going to be able to have a season after all.

  Instead, Father told her he had fixed her future with his friend and neighbor, Mr. Wakefield.

  “Now, Leannah, my dear, I know Elias Wakefield’s not a handsome beau, but you’ll soon grow to appreciate him. What good is a wild young buck as a husband, eh? He’d have no steadiness, and certainly no standing. He’ll chafe at the marriage harness and be forever wandering off to chase after what he can’t have. Would I marry my daughter to such an untrustworthy creature? No. Would a man of that kind be anything like good enough for a Morehouse? Never. I’ll have only the best for you, Lea, and that means a sound man, an absolutely trustworthy man. A man who, above all, can keep you as you deserve to be kept. It’s you I’m thinking of, Lea.”

  She remembered how the words had washed over her. She remembered allowing herself to sink into the flood of them. It was always easier that way. When Father spoke, she must believe him. It didn’t matter how often he’d been wrong before. It wasn’t his fault things hadn’t turned out as they hoped. Misfortune could come to anyone. The great thing was how a man recovered from it, and how he provided for his family. Here he was thinking of how best to provide for her, and she must believe that.

  This time, she remembered saying to herself, it will be different.

  This time it will be different, the words echoed through her mind. They were practically the Morehouse family motto. It should be carved over the door of their house. Houses.

  She’d taught herself to believe it, though. Leannah stared at the fire, but she couldn’t see it clearly for the tears welling up in her eyes. She’d not only taught belief to herself, she’d had done her best to teach it to Genny and Jeremy. To do otherwise would mean she doubted her father’s word and ability, and that would have broken her heart in two, as it had her mother’s.

  Because she believed, she hadn’t worried about the conversations Father and Elias held behind closed doors. She hadn’t worried about the bank drafts Elias wrote, or the legal men and their papers. What was there to worry about? Thanks to Elias, she was finally able to spend the season in London, not just once, but every single year. As a married, and wealthy, woman, society was entirely open to her. She made friends. She entertained. She went to the opera and the theater. What were a few whispers in the background comp
ared to all that?

  As for the fact that Elias placed so much money into Father’s hands, that was nothing to worry about. Elias had more than enough, and Father understood investing. He could turn the Wakefield fortune into something extraordinary. All he needed was time, and enough money. There was plenty this time. A few losses could be easily born. They’d be recouped on the next upturn in the market. This time would be different.

  A tear trickled down Leannah’s cheek, leaving a trail of cold behind. Father stirred on the sofa and his eyes fluttered. She wiped away the damp on her cheek.

  “Leannah?” Father’s head jerked up, and for a moment, the confusion she so dreaded came over him.

  “I’m here, Father.” Leannah moved herself quickly into his field of vision.

  “Ah. Yes. Your aunt said you’d be back soon.” He smoothed and straightened his dressing gown. “How is Mrs. Watersen?”

  She studied him for a moment before she framed her answer. This time, the confusion appeared to have been momentary. His eyes were already clear. His wrinkled hand held steady as he reached to the side table and poured himself a glass of watered wine from the decanter. She waited until he’d taken a sip.

  “I was not with Mrs. Watersen, Father.”

  Father blinked. “But your aunt and Genny . . .”

  “They did not want to tell you where I really was because we were concerned about the shock.”

  “I see.” Father took another sip of wine, and stared into the glass. His pallid lips twitched as he attempted a smile. “I suppose I cannot blame you for that. Are you going to tell me now?”

  Yes. She took a deep breath. “I’m married father. To a man named Harry Rayburn. He’s a merchant and his family owns two warehouses.”

  Father said nothing. He raised his glass again but now his hands were shaking, and shaking badly. Leannah reached forward to take the wine from him, but he managed to lift the glass to his lips and drink. It rattled as he set it down on the table.