My Wild Heart (Regency Shakespeare Book 2)

by Martha Keyes

  “You’ll jerk their mouths to pieces!” Matthew protested. “Give me the reins.” He put his hands out expectantly.

  “Nonsense.” She tried to relax her wrists more. “Besides, I don’t trust you.”

  He kept his hands outstretched, ready to accept them. “I won’t turn us around, Edith. I promise you. Just give me the reins.”

  She glanced at him then surrendered.

  The horses moved more easily under his guidance, tossing their heads less and keeping more even footing. No doubt they had felt Edith’s tension through the reins.

  She sat back and folded her arms, allowing silence to fall between them for a time. She had promised herself to take up Elias’s cause with Matthew, to help him see that Elias wasn’t at fault. And there was hardly a better time than this, when they were forced to spend time together, with nothing but miles of road ahead.

  But the last thing Edith wanted to do was defend Elias. She had pretended not to be affected by his declaration of love, but the truth was it had stunned her. She had wanted to believe it—more than she had wanted anything in a very long time—but she couldn’t allow herself to.

  Elias himself had said that the matter of salvaging his honor was a driving factor in his desire to marry her. And now more than ever, she struggled to believe that his motives were pure. Why should Elias be so different from everyone else she knew? Her father was all too happy to sacrifice her happiness for his political ends, and Mr. Stratton was eager to do the same. People were but pawns to one another, to be used and discarded at each one’s will and convenience.

  She had neither the desire to be such a pawn nor to use Elias as one.

  He may have convinced himself that he loved her, but if she surrendered to the appeal of loving him and being loved, it would only be a matter of time before they both realized how incompatible they were—and that what they had believed was love was merely a desire to be loved.

  But whatever Edith’s feelings, Elias didn’t deserve to be despised by Matthew for a situation not of his own making.

  “You shouldn’t be angry with Elias,” she said tersely.

  Matthew only scoffed.

  “I mean it, Matthew. He has done no wrong.”

  “Done no wrong?” He whipped his head around briefly to look at her, his puffed lip challenging her words, then returned it to the road. “Are you truly so dim-witted?”

  “Are you? He is your friend, Matthew. And you know me too well to believe I would ever allow myself to be taken in by a man. There is no reason for you to be upset with Elias.”

  “No reason! Ha! That’s rich now. I’ll tell you, Edith. A man doesn’t forget walking in on his best friend—one with a reputation, no less—kissing his own sister.” His face screwed up in frustration and disgust.

  “I kissed him, Matthew.” Edith suppressed the desire to shift under Matthew’s stunned gaze.

  “The devil you did!”

  “I don’t know what the devil has to say to it, but I did. So, you mustn’t blame Elias.”

  He hesitated, his mouth opening and closing multiple times. “Be that as it may, he ran off with you, Edith! Under my very nose.”

  “Yes, but in jest. Not in earnest. You should have expected retaliation after the trick you and the others played.”

  “Well, your revenge fell flat,” Matthew responded.

  The uneven ground rumbled beneath them, and the horses’ hooves kicked up clods of dirt, still moist from the rainstorms.

  Matthew shook his head. “I’ve heard too many stories of his conquests from Eli’s own lips, listened to how he speaks of women too many times to think it the least bit funny of him to go off with you.”

  Edith brushed aside the hurt she felt—it shouldn’t hurt her. Elias was just like every other gentleman she knew—quick to discard women once they ceased to amuse. And yet, the thought that she might fall into the same category as any other woman Elias had had a dalliance with? It was a low blow.

  “I am more than capable of taking care of myself, Matthew.”

  “You’re not. Yes, you may look daggers at me, but it’s true. You give yourself airs, Edith. You’re not as strong as you pretend to be, and there’s something about Elias and his scorn for women that has women falling over themselves for him. I imagine each one thinks she’ll be the one to change his tune.” He laughed through his nose. “Elias will never trust a woman.”

  “Why not?” Edith couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t fault anyone for their cynicism, of course, but at least she was consistent in hers: she believed the worst of everyone. It hardly seemed fair to acquit one sex—and one which, by and large, had not shown collective concern with their trustworthiness.

  Matthew shrugged. “He’s like you—doesn’t precisely open himself up on the subject. But the women in his life haven’t been paragons of love and concern, you know.”

  She didn’t know.

  The curricle rolled into the area in front of Ivy Cottage, the home belonging to the Perrys. It was a modest house—two stories high and a bit worse for wear, with parts of the roof in serious need of new clay tiles, and the wooden front door sitting crooked.

  “Are they expecting us?” Matthew asked.

  Edith shook her head. They stepped down from the curricle, and Edith smoothed out her dress as well as she could, grateful to be on steady ground after the jostling of the past two hours. She led the way to the door while Matthew stood with the horses. They needed tending to, but no servant had come to see to them.

  The door opened, and a woman servant’s questioning eyes were directed at Edith. “How may I help you, miss?”

  “Is Miss Perry at home?”

  The servant nodded.

  “Will you please inform her that Miss Donne is here in company with her brother? And if you could ensure that our horses are seen to, it would be very kind and appreciated.”

  The servant pinched her lips together but nodded. “Very good, miss.” She called out behind her, presumably for another servant, and a few moments later, a man came up beside her, listening to her instructions with several curious glances at the visitors. He relieved Matthew of the reins, and both Matthew and Edith were welcomed into the Perry home.

  The interior was as modest as the exterior. The Perrys seemed to be genteel, though not wealthy enough to keep on more than a couple of servants. The house hadn’t been redecorated for two decades, by all appearances. The siblings were shown into a small room that looked to be a sort of sitting room and drawing room, and the servant left to inform Miss Perry of her visitors.

  “What exactly are we doing here, Edith?” Matthew asked in a low voice as the door closed behind the servant.

  Edith looked around the room curiously. The air in the home had an oppressive feel, and with a jolt, Edith remembered the family’s recent loss. She cringed to think how unfeeling it was to visit so soon after. She had been too concerned with her own situation to spare a thought for the Perrys and what they were experiencing.

  “We are expressing our condolences for their recent loss and asking Miss Perry to lend her voice in support of Elias and me—to assure Father that propriety was strictly guarded at the inn.”

  Matthew looked at her significantly. She already knew what he would say: their father was unlikely to place much importance on the word of a family in such circumstances as the Perrys looked to be in.

  The door opened, and Miss Perry appeared, attired in the same black dress she had been wearing at The Old Dog and Pheasant.

  “Miss Donne,” she said, striding over with a smile. “What an unexpected surprise.” There was a bit of nervousness in the way her eyes darted around the room, but she embraced Edith warmly.

  “Yes,” Edith said, “I hope you will forgive me for arriving unanticipated. I’m afraid it couldn’t be avoided.”

  “You need not apologize, I assure you. You are very welcome here.” Miss Perry’s eyes shifted to Matthew, and Edith provided the necessary introduction. Matthew expressed hi
s sympathies for Miss Perry’s loss, and Edith couldn’t help noting the way Miss Perry looked at him with an added measure of shyness.

  They took their seats, and Miss Perry called for tea to be brought, putting an absent hand to her neck once the servant left to fulfill her order.

  “Your necklace!” Edith cried in surprise. “You found it.”

  Miss Perry’s hand dropped from it hurriedly, and her ears tinged with pink. “Yes, yes. Wonderful, isn’t it?”

  “Indeed. Such a relief, I’m sure. I know how much it means to you.”

  Miss Perry nodded slowly, a stricken look in her eyes. “Yes. Yes, it means everything to me.” She brought her tea to her mouth, and it trembled, causing a clanking as the cup and saucer hit against each other.

  It was obvious that Miss Perry was still struggling under the weight of her brother’s passing. Perhaps she wasn’t able to sleep, which would account for the jittery quality to her movements. Edith had heard of grief affecting people in strange ways.

  She set down her tea on the table. “I feel very ashamed to admit that the purpose of our visit isn’t purely one of condolence, but I find myself in a terrible bind, and I hoped you might be able to help.”

  Miss Perry shifted forward on her seat, setting down her tea as well. “Of course. What can I do?”

  “Perhaps you remember a gentleman who stayed at the inn while we were there. He left quite early in the morning—just as we were searching for the necklace, I believe.”

  Miss Perry swallowed, and her hand clasped at the pendant as she gave a hint of a nod.

  Edith pressed on, wishing she could have come once Miss Perry had had more time to recover from her initial grief. “His name is Mr. Stratton, and he and my father have long been rivals in the House of Commons. At present, they find themselves on opposite sides of a very controversial issue—one that has the potential to affect Mr. Stratton quite nearly. So concerned is he that the vote come out in his favor that he has threatened to use my reputation as leverage to ensure my father’s cooperation. He believes that my time at the inn in the company of Mr. Abram is more than enough to ruin my father’s credibility.” She gripped the handle of her teacup, vowing not to betray how angry the situation made her. “I had hoped that you might be willing to again vouch for us?” Seeing the pallid color of Miss Perry’s wide-eyed face, Edith rushed on. “It wouldn’t require anything of you but to write a quick note to my father, assuring him that propriety was kept, and that you can attest to that, having been in our company almost the entirety of the time.”

  Miss Perry’s chin trembled, and Edith sent a glance full of uncertainty at Matthew, who only gave a bemused shrug.

  “I cannot!” Miss Perry said, her hand still gripping at her neck.

  Edith stared, baffled by Miss Perry’s reaction. She went to sit beside her. “Of course I don’t wish to distress you, but…I don’t understand. Does your conscience prevent you from providing such a testament?”

  Miss Perry shook her head, taking her bottom lip between her teeth and directing a glance full of guilt at Edith. “It is not my conscience.” She shut her eyes, and a tear slipped from underneath her lids. “I assure you that I should not have agreed to Mr. Stratton’s demands under anything but the direst need!”

  Edith frowned, unease making her stomach feel strange. “What do you mean? What demands?”

  Miss Perry met her gaze, affliction and tears filling her eyes. “He came here—Mr. Stratton did—the day after the funeral. I recognized him from the inn, and he told my mother he had come to return something that belonged to me. You can imagine how relieved I was to see this”—she lifted the pendant from her pale chest and rubbed it between her fingers. She looked up at Edith again, her eyes pleading for understanding. “Before giving it to me, he insisted upon asking me questions. Questions about you and Mr. Abram.”

  Edith swallowed. “What sort of questions?”

  Miss Perry looked flustered, and her eyes flitted to Matthew, as if she was worried what he thought of her too. “He wished to know whether you had truly come to the inn to see me. Whether we knew each other beforehand. He seemed to wish for more information regarding the relationship between you and Mr. Abram. I assured him that I had been with you—even slept in the same bed as you—but…”

  “But what?” Edith tried to keep her voice level, but foreboding filled her.

  “He pressed me on the subject—he seemed disinclined to believe that I had been with you and Mr. Abram at all times.” Her chin trembled. “He encouraged me to think harder, and he implied that it would be very terrible indeed if my father’s debts were acquired by someone less than friendly toward the family. I don’t know how he knew of the debts, but”—she lifted her shoulders in a pitiful, helpless gesture. “We could barely afford to bury Robert properly.”

  Edith shut her eyes. She put an arm around Miss Perry, who gave a little sob.

  “Please forgive me,” she said.

  “There is nothing to forgive, my dear,” Edith said, feeling emotion rise in her throat. “I would never have had you risk your family’s welfare, so don’t think for a moment that I am upset with you.” Anger flooded her, making her body feel hot. “Mr. Stratton will stoop to any means to obtain his ends. I am terribly sorry that you became a victim—and just as sorry that it was your meeting me that put you in such a position.” She squeezed Miss Perry more tightly to her, glancing at Matthew, whose face was grim.

  Miss Perry rested her head against Edith’s shoulder, her face in her hands. “You are all goodness. I am sure I should have resisted him more—shown more courage.”

  “Nonsense,” Edith said, her conscience panging as she thought of the extra burden she had brought upon the Perrys at an already difficult time. “You would only have angered him, putting yourself and your family at even greater risk.” She rubbed Miss Perry’s arm. “You mustn’t worry that I shall be upset with you, but I must ask what you told him.”

  Miss Perry nodded, and Matthew rose to give her his handkerchief, a gesture met with a grateful smile.

  “I told him,” she said slowly, “that there was a short amount of time when you and Mr. Abram were alone in the private parlor—when I left to avoid becoming covered in flour.” She shook her head, and Edith’s cheeks flamed at the memory of the kiss they had shared during that brief time.

  “I should not have left you. It was heedless of me.” She took in a deep breath. “Mr. Stratton sat down at that desk” —she indicated a small escritoire that stood against the window— “and wrote something, then told me he would return Robert’s necklace to me when I signed it.”

  Edith took in a deep breath, avoiding Matthew’s eye. “What did it say?”

  “It swore to my witness that you and Mr. Abram had stayed at The Old Dog and Pheasant, assuming the guise of a married couple, and that you had spent considerable time alone together, enough to cast the gravest doubts on your characters.”

  Edith nodded stiffly, swallowing the lump in her throat.

  “It was wrong of me to sign it. I know you and Mr. Abram were pattern cards of propriety—”

  Edith’s conscience prickled with guilt, and she put up a hand to stop Miss Perry. “You mustn’t blame yourself. Mr. Abram and I were foolish to do what we did. I was too intent on taking vengeance upon my brother and cousins to pay proper heed to the weather or how things might go awry.” She managed a smile.

  Miss Perry sniffled and lowered her head. “You must rue the day you met me!”

  Edith breathed in deeply. “There is much for me to regret in my own behavior, but I cannot regret becoming acquainted with you.” She sat up straight, trying to assume a manner that conveyed confidence. “Don’t spend a moment worrying on my account—I surely shan’t.” It was a lie, of course. But Edith would feel like an ogre to leave Miss Perry fretting over things more than she already was.

  When Miss Perry looked doubtful, Matthew chimed in. “It’s true, you know. If anyone can get in and out of a scra
pe without being any worse for it, it’s Edith. She loves a good challenge.”

  Miss Perry gave a watery chuckle and began to look a little less morose. Matthew spent a few minutes inquiring after her, managing to elicit a few soft laughs with his responses, and by the time they took their leave, Miss Perry was looking much better than she had at the beginning of their visit.

  When they climbed into the curricle, armed with a few blueberry muffins—courtesy of the Perry family—Matthew’s smile faded. He sighed as he took the reins. “What a muddle you’ve got yourself in, Edith.”

  She clasped her hands in her lap. “Yes. I know. Mr. Stratton will not be easily defeated.”

  “He’s a blackguard, no question, to threaten a young woman like Miss Perry in the throes of mourning.” He grimaced. “I must say, though, that you were devilish kind to her. Don’t mean to offend you, of course, but I didn’t quite expect it from you.”

  Edith turned her head away, hoping he wouldn’t see how his perception of her character hurt. “It was dastardly of Mr. Stratton,” she said, “and he certainly deserves to be hanged. But Father showed little inclination to think Miss Perry’s word mattered anyway, so I suppose I am no worse off than before.”

  Matthew gripped her shoulder bracingly. “No, he wouldn’t care much for her word, I’m afraid. Cares less about what truly happened at the inn than he does about how it will appear to others—the gossip it will generate, the stain it will be upon his character. That sort of thing.” He looked at her with pity in his eyes. “I think you shall have to marry Elias after all, Edith. He may be a bit of a loose screw, but he’s not so blind to reason that he won’t see what his duty is. And he’s a good sort of man, so I think you won’t have overmuch reason to complain. I imagine he’ll be just as anxious to leave you to your own devices as you’ll be to leave him to his.” He patted her hand. “I’ll have a word with him.” He turned away.