Historical Romance – The Best Of The Year

Chapter Eleven

‘Madeline...are you still asleep?’ Jenny asked, peeping round the door. ‘Oh...you’re not here.’ She walked into the room, thinking that it was unusually untidy. Madeline’s maid always kept everything just so, but there was a glove dropped on the floor, some writing paper lying on the desk and a night-chemise thrown over a chair. It was most unlike Sally to leave things like this and it made Jenny wonder. Then she saw the letters lying on the dressing table and walked across to investigate. Seeing that one was addressed to her, she picked it up and broke the seal. ‘Oh, no,’ she cried as she read the few lines. ‘How foolish...’

Snatching up the other letter that she now saw was addressed to Hal, she went swiftly from the room in search of her husband. Adam was in the library, sitting at a desk littered with ledgers when she entered and did not at first look up from his books.

‘Adam, please forgive me for interrupting your work, but I must speak to you on a serious matter.’

He glanced up with a smile. ‘If you’ve overspent your allowance, I quite understand, my love. Just have the accounts sent to me.’

‘No, it isn’t that,’ Jenny said. ‘It is Madeline...she has run away because she fears to bring shame on us all.’

‘What?’ Adam cried, looking stunned. ‘No, how could she be such a fool? Does she have no sense in that beautiful head of hers? She may be abducted and goodness knows what...and Hal will never forgive me.’

‘She thinks he will be better off without her,’ Jenny said, close to tears, ‘and that we shall not be exposed to scandal if she leaves now. How can she think that we would care for that? Or that it would much affect us whatever that wicked man tried to do?’

‘As to that I dare say it might be unpleasant for a while, but we should come about. Hal was of the same mind. Last night he was convinced that he must take Madeline abroad once they were wed to avoid the scandal. He fears that she would be ostracised and he did not wish to bring shame on our family. We argued for an hour or more. In the end I believe I convinced him that a few months abroad on his wedding trip would be sufficient for the gossip to die down—and he was considering keeping the estate his mother left to him and returning to it when they came home. He would not take the position I offered him. I fear he is too damned proud.’

‘She left a letter for me—and one for Hal,’ Jenny said and offered it to her husband. He took it, hesitated, and then broke the seal, exclaiming in exasperation.

‘Damn it! She must have heard me...’

‘What do you mean?’ Jenny was puzzled.

‘I questioned her feelings for him,’ Adam said. ‘I thought she was cold and did not love him as she ought. But the foolish woman has run away rather than let him ruin his life for her sake and that shows that I was wrong. She does care for him.’

‘Should you have read Hal’s letter?’

‘It is as well I did for if he read this...’ Adam shook his head. ‘She makes some excuse about not being worthy of him, but I am certain this is my fault. I caused this, Jenny—and it is up to me to do something about it.’

Jenny watched as her husband walked to the fireplace and tossed Madeline’s letter to Hal into the flames.

‘Adam! That was not yours to dispose of.’

‘Hal must not see that for it would destroy him,’ Adam said. ‘If he returns while I’m gone, you will show him yours, but say nothing of a letter for him.’

‘Are you sure? He may be angry if he thinks she went with no word for him...and where are you going?’

‘I must go after her,’ Adam said. ‘Ask the servants if they’ve seen anything of her maid or the footman she brought with her. Someone may know how long a start they have on me. I must put up a change of clothing and hope to pick up their trail. I dare say they hired a chaise from the Swan Inn. Unless they’ve taken something from our coach house.’

‘Madeline would not do that,’ Jenny said. ‘She told me they borrowed a chaise from Thomas’s brother to escape from London and he was sent to return it at once. I believe she would have hired something locally if she could.’

Adam crossed the room to her, bending down to kiss her lips. ‘Forgive me for leaving you, Jenny. Please have one of the grooms go after Hal and tell him that Madeline has run away again—I’ll go after her and try to bring her back safely.’

‘Will you take one of the grooms with you?’

‘I have my pistols, but, yes, I shall take George with me. He is handy with a pistol. If Rochdale knows nothing of her flight, we shall be home again before you hardly know we’re gone. But if he is on her trail we may need the pistols if we are to rescue her.’

Jenny felt her stomach tighten with nerves. ‘You will be careful, please?’

‘Of course, but I must find her for alone she is in danger. It is most unlikely that Rochdale is aware she has left our house, but she might fall prey to any number of rogues. Do not worry, Jenny. I shall find her and pray that I may persuade her to return.’

* * *

The post boys had advised them to change horses at the White Eagle, a superior inn on the London road. It was some distance from Dover still, but had such a pleasant parlour that Madeline had decided they would partake of luncheon there. She enquired of the landlord where it would be best to stay for they could not hope to reach Dover itself before nightfall. He had told her that the Hare and Hounds Inn situated at the edge of a small village some ten miles from Dover was an excellent hostelry where they could be certain of clean sheets and a good dinner. It was but a short drive from Dover and they could easily reach the port the next morning.

They reached the inn by seven that evening and, since Thomas had ridden on ahead to warn the landlord, were fortunate enough to secure a room for the night, which Madeline would share with Sally. Thomas would make do with a bed in a communal room over the stables that grooms and post boys often shared.

Madeline bespoke dinner for them all and was given a table in the parlour, which she had only to share with one other lady—a governess travelling to her employer’s home to take up a new post. She was a woman of some thirty-odd years, dressed in a sober gown of grey and accustomed to being ignored by fine ladies, and showed a little surprise when Madeline asked her where she was going.

‘I am to take up a position with Lady Margaret Marlborough,’ she said. ‘She has two young sons and the last governess left in some distress for she could not bear their pranks another moment.’

‘I dare say it is often difficult to control young boys?’

‘Indeed, it can be, ma’am,’ she replied. ‘My name is Anne Somersham and I am accustomed to dealing with spirited children. I do not foresee any problem.’

After listening to Miss Somersham’s account of various pupils she had been obliged to deal with during her years as a governess, Madeline mentally crossed off the possibility of applying for such a post herself. She did not think she would be able to make high-spirited boys mind her and the idea of being at the beck and call of an elderly lady held no appeal. No, she thought her first notion of becoming a seamstress was still the most likely way for her to succeed. She might even set up a small establishment of her own once she’d learned her trade.

A little later, Miss Somersham said goodnight and left the room to go up to her bedchamber. Madeline had finished her dinner and was thinking of retiring to her room. She was just about to ask Sally if she were ready when the landlord entered and asked if they would mind sharing the parlour with a gentleman.

‘Captain Mardle is a very distinguished, respectable gentleman,’ he said in an apologetic tone. ‘He had bespoke my parlour for this evening, but I wasn’t sure when to expect him for he said he might be late.’

‘We shall be going up to our chamber when we’ve finished our wine,’ Madeline said and inclined her head. ‘Please request Captain Mardle to come in. We are the intruders here and will give up the parlour to him in a very few minutes, sir.’

The landlord returned a moment later with a gentleman dressed in the uniform of a cavalry officer. He moved towards Madeline as she rose to her feet and bowed politely.

‘Please do not feel obliged to leave, ma’am. I am not averse to sharing the parlour.’

‘You are kind, sir, but we have finished our supper. The host was not expecting us until we sent word late this afternoon and was kind enough to allow us to eat our dinner in privacy—and now we shall accord you the same privilege.’

‘You are gracious, ma’am,’ he said and moved towards the fire, but swayed and seemed unsteady for a moment. Unthinkingly, Madeline put out a hand to steady him. ‘Thank you...’

‘Are you ill, sir?’

‘I have been for many months,’ Captain Mardle replied. ‘I am recovered now and it was but a momentary faintness, which still troubles me now and then.’

‘If there is anything we can do...’

‘Nothing at all, though I thank you for the offer.’

Madeline smiled and inclined her head. Murmuring to Sally that they must leave, she led the way from the room.

‘I dare say the gentleman was injured in the war,’ Sally said. ‘He did look a bit pale, didn’t he?’

‘Yes, a little,’ Madeline agreed. ‘There was something about him...something in his eyes that spoke of suffering.’

‘Yes, my lady. I noticed that too.’

‘We shall be in Dover in the morning,’ Madeline said as they went up to their room. ‘I want you to think seriously about your decision to accompany me to France, Sally. I have no right to ask you or Thomas to come with me. I intend to seek work as a seamstress and I cannot afford to employ you both. Thomas will have to seek work for himself. Would you rather not stay here and purchase the inn he desires?’

‘No, my lady. Thomas says he will go where I go and I shall follow you. If we set up house together, three wages will be more comfortable than one.’

‘As always, you are determined to do everything for me,’ Madeline said. ‘We shall speak of it again when we reach Dover.’

Once the door was closed and locked, Madeline undressed, refusing Sally’s offer of help. She had chosen to wear a carriage gown that had a separate bodice and skirt, which fastened in front with tiny pearl buttons and was easy to take off. In future she must make certain that she could dress herself for she was determined to make no more demands on her friends. Indeed, her meeting with Miss Somersham had made her more determined to stand alone. All her life she had been cosseted and waited on and she believed it was time to fend for herself. If Sally would not listen to reason, she must find a way to slip away from her friends and take passage on a ship for France.

It would be very selfish of her to allow them to sacrifice their lives for her.

* * *

Jake Mardle sat over the dinner he had hardly touched, staring into his wineglass. Something about the beautiful young woman who had tried to help him when he was dizzy had reminded him of Ellie. There was a certain innocence or fragility that had drawn him to her.

Ellie, his sweet sister, who was now a shadow of her former self, living the life of a recluse with his Aunt Medina. Ellie had been so beautiful and so sweet when Jake left his home to join the army. She ought by now to have been happily married to a good man who would love her and give her a home and children, but instead she sat all day in her room and stared at the wall. Even the return of her brother now recovered from a long illness had hardly raised a smile. She had allowed him to kiss her cheek, but then she had moved away, a little shudder going through her.

It was a while before he’d coaxed the story of her shame and his father’s death from Aunt Medina. She had not wanted to tell him and begged Jake not to let his sister know that he was aware of her shame.

‘It is not Ellie’s shame,’ Jake raged, ‘but that devil who seduced and abandoned her to her fate. He ruined her and killed my father—and for that he shall die.’

‘I beg you not to throw your life away as your father did,’ his aunt said. ‘If I’d thought you would be so foolish, I should not have told you. What will become of us if anything should happen to you?’

‘It will not,’ he promised her. ‘I am not my father, Aunt. I am a soldier hardened to battle—and I shall kill him.’

‘And hang for it,’ his aunt said. ‘Think about us, Jake—your sister has enough to bear as it is. If you die, she will never forgive herself.’

‘I intend to bring that wretch to his knees,’ Jake replied. ‘Do not distress yourself, Aunt. I shall take revenge for Ellie and my father—and then I will return and we shall all go abroad to live. In a warm climate away from people who know of her shame my sister will recover.’

Jake shook his head. He was woolgathering. The young woman he’d seen in the parlour earlier could have nothing in common with Jake’s sister—and their paths would never cross again. He must allow nothing to detract him from the business in hand.

He was going to find and kill the Marquis of Rochdale.

* * *

Hal was at dinner in the parlour of the inn he had chosen to stay at for the night. He’d ridden hard all day and hoped there would be a soft bed in his chamber. It was impossible to reach London in one day and he would need to spend most of the following day in the saddle if he were to get there by nightfall. He wanted to complete his journey in as short a time as possible, because he had sensed Madeline’s unease when he’d said goodbye to her. The marquis’s threats had distressed her far more than they had him. He cared little for any gossip the man might spread and his only concern was for Madeline herself. She might suffer some loss of reputation, but, as Adam had convinced him, it would be short term. Once she was his wife, people would merely smile and forget that they had been lovers before their marriage.

If only the gossips knew the truth. Hal had done no more than kiss her, though his body burned for her and he longed to make her his wife. His concern for her feelings and the abuse she’d suffered at her husband’s hands had made him hold back. He could never force her into a situation that was unpleasant to her...though his instincts told him that she loved him. He had felt increasingly anxious as he rode further from Ravenscar, though he did not know why. When he saw the Ravenscar groom walk into the inn parlour, he jumped to his feet, instinctively knowing that something must be wrong.

‘Major,’ the man said, coming swiftly to meet him. ‘I’m glad to have caught you. Captain Miller sent me to tell you. Lady Lethbridge has gone missing, sir.’

‘Missing? How can this be? Has she been abducted?’

‘I don’t rightly know, sir,’ the groom said apologetically. ‘I was sent to ask you to return.’

‘Yes, I shall do so at once,’ Hal said. His business in London could wait. If Madeline was in danger...yet he could not understand how anyone could get close enough to her to abduct her. ‘How did it happen? Did she go out walking alone?’

‘I think she left a letter for Mrs Miller,’ he said, causing Hal to frown. ‘But that is all I was told, sir—just to let you know you was needed back at Ravenscar.’

‘A letter for Jenny...’ Hal frowned. There was more to this than met the eye. He fixed the groom with a hard stare for the man had not disclosed everything.

‘You have no idea where she has gone?’

‘None, sir—but Captain Miller went after her as soon as he knew she’d slipped off with her maid and that footman.’

Hal stared at him in disbelief. ‘You’re sure she took her maid with her?’

‘Yes, Major. I heard the lads talking in the stables. They was seen leaving and they was carrying bags with them. Went off in a havey-cavey style they did, though Thomas took his horse.’

Hal felt sick to his stomach and then angry. How could Madeline have run off as soon as his back was turned? Where had she gone? Back to her friend’s farm or somewhere else?

Most importantly, why had she left? She must know how dangerous it was for her to leave the safety of Ravenscar. What had driven her to such a desperate act?

He could not understand why she would cause so much anxiety and distress to everyone. He’d believed she was content to marry him, to go abroad with him until the gossip had died down and then return to England.

She must know how much he loved her. Did he mean so little to her that she had not thought it necessary to tell him of her intention?

‘My horse needs rest,’ Hal said. ‘I shall hire a chaise and drive myself back to Ravenscar, but you must stay here and bring the horses back tomorrow by easy stages.’

‘I ought to go with you, sir. It’s a long way to drive—and you must be tired.’

‘I’ll drive as far as I can tonight and then sleep,’ Hal said. ‘Now I must pay my shot—you may have the room I bespoke for the night. I shall pay the landlord myself now.’

Leaving the groom to bespeak a meal for himself, Hal went to the speak to the landlord and then to the stables, where he was able to hire a chaise and pair. He needed speed and for the payment of a few extra guineas secured some sweet goers that would have him back at Ravenscar by morning.

His mood alternated between anxiety and anger, for he could not decide why Madeline had left without telling anyone what she meant to do.

Had he been wrong about her? He’d believed that she cared for him—that she wanted to be his wife—but now he did not know what to think.

If Madeline loved and trusted him, why would she run away?

* * *

Having been told there were no rooms available at the Hare and Hounds, Rochdale sent one of his servants to wait and watch while he drove on through the night to an inn nearer Dover.

‘When the wench leaves the inn follow her,’ he told his man. ‘I believe her to be travelling to Dover, but if she should go in another direction come and tell me immediately. I shall put up at the Green Man in Dover and you will find me there.’

Rochdale was content to bide his time. He knew it would be more trouble than it was worth to try to abduct Madeline from a public place with her servants in attendance. Sooner or later she would be alone and he would grab her before anyone knew what was happening.

* * *

Madeline had not slept well. Her thoughts were of Hal and the pain her letter must cause him when he read it. She was torn by doubt for her resolution had begun to waver during a long night listening to the sounds of the inn. Coaches coming and going at all hours, loud voices and what sounded like a fight in the yard had all combined to give her a restless night.

Sally had told her to wait while she fetched a can of warm water and asked the landlord if they could have breakfast in their rooms, but Madeline could not sit still. The doubts had begun to crowd in on her and she did not know what she ought to do.

Was she wrong to have let the marquis win? Her determination to save Hal from ruin was still strong, but she felt tired and close to tears, unsure of what she wanted to do.

If Sally insisted on coming to France with her she might not be able to evade her—and that would ruin the dreams Thomas harboured of having his own inn, for he could not hope to make a success in France when he did not speak the language.

Oh, why could things not be simpler? Feeling uncertain and in some distress, Madeline used the cold water left over from the night before to wash, dressed in the simple gown she’d worn on her journey here and went downstairs. She needed to walk in the fresh air for a while before she came to her final decision.

She paused for a moment to listen to a noisy dispute in the taproom, then went out into the yard. It was a cold crisp morning, but the sun was shining and she felt better away from the stale odours of the inn.

Was her life to be spent in inns or lodgings that could be no better than this, because she could not afford a higher rent? Was she making a terrible mistake? Perhaps she’d let a few careless words upset her too much. Did she really need to run away to France?

Was she such a spineless coward? Remembering the brave governess who was forced to stand on her own feet, Madeline was shamed. She would truly be a coward if she allowed Rochdale to ruin her life.

Suddenly, she found that she was no longer afraid. The marquis might try to ruin her, but what did it truly matter? She did not care what people thought of her—but she would not have Hal ruined. Her mind sought for a solution to her problems and the idea came to her slowly. She need not go to France; instead she would return to her late husband’s house in London, but she could not return to Ravenscar for she did not wish to bring shame on Jenny and Adam. She would discover the truth of her situation from the lawyers and, if she were the heir, she would arrange for the marquis to be paid. Then, if she had no other choice, she would go home to her father. Sally would no longer feel it necessary to remain with her and could follow her heart. As for Hal...perhaps in time he would forgive her, though it would be best if he forgot her and found a new life without her.

Madeline was not sure what might happen to her in the future, if she could bear to marry again, whether she would be penniless or left with a competence. She only knew that she must find the courage to face whatever came to her by returning to her old life.

It was the best solution for her friends and preferable to a life spent looking over her shoulder. She must stop running and face her enemy.

Lifting her head proudly, Madeline walked back to the inn. It was time she took charge of her own life—but as the lady she was rather than a seamstress. If Rochdale required to be paid, he must produce evidence and the lawyers would attend to it. Surely enough would be left from her husband’s estate to enable her to live independently, but if not she would seek help from her family.

* * *

‘Oh, I am glad you have given up the idea of becoming a seamstress, my lady,’ Sally said when Madeline returned to their room. ‘I would have come with you wherever you chose to go, but I must confess that Thomas was not truly happy about it, though for my sake he would follow you anywhere.’

‘Once I am settled, you must make your own plans for the future,’ Madeline told her. ‘I want my friends to be happy and I shall make you both a handsome present when you leave me.’

‘We do not need anything, my lady,’ Sally said. ‘Thomas has money enough to set up his inn—but I shall not leave you until you are comfortable.’

‘Your loyalty has been more than I could ever have expected,’ Madeline said. ‘If you will accept nothing more, I shall give you a wedding gift.’

‘I could not refuse that,’ Sally said, looking pleased. ‘Will you not have some breakfast? There are fresh rolls, butter and honey and I could send down for more tea, for I think this must have gone cold.’

‘I shall have honey and rolls and the fruit juice you brought,’ Madeline said. ‘Pray tell Thomas the news and ask him to engage us a chaise for London rather than Dover.’

‘Yes, my lady, at once.’

Sally went off with a new spring in her step, unable to hide her pleasure at Madeline’s change of plan. It was a sensible one and Madeline wondered why she had not thought of it at once. Until the lawyers had sorted out the business of the estate, Lethbridge’s property was at her disposal. It was likely that she would have some claim to the dower house at his country estate if nothing more...but there was little point in thinking too far ahead. Another day of travelling would bring them to London and the lawyers would soon give her the information she needed.

She felt better for having taken her life into her own hands. Rochdale would do his worst for the only person’s reputation to suffer would be her own and she cared nothing for it. Her friends would not bear the shame of her making—and Sally’s happiness was worth whatever it cost her. In London, Madeline would make plans for the future according to her situation.