The Complete Regency Surrender Collection. Louise Allen

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Название The Complete Regency Surrender Collection
Автор произведения Louise Allen
Жанр Историческая литература
Серия Mills & Boon e-Book Collections
Издательство Историческая литература
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474085182



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      ‘Mr Thomas is right.’ Lady Rothley went to Eleanor, taking her hands. ‘Oh! It doesn’t bear thinking about. That could have been you attacked in your bed. You could have been murdered.’ Her voice quavered. ‘Please, Ellie, do not be stubborn. Surely you must see these happenings cannot all be coincidence? What do you suggest we do, Mr Thomas? Should we return to Ashby? Will that be safer than London?’

      ‘It might be the wisest move.’

      Eleanor directed a scathing look at Matthew. ‘I’m sorry you are so troubled, Aunt, but I have no intention of returning to Ashby. Besides, Batley, if you remember, was concerned that the house cannot be made secure during the renovations, so we would be no safer there.’

      ‘Who is Batley?’

      Eleanor scorched Matthew with an impatient glance. ‘He is my bailiff. No, we will not return to the Manor. We shall continue our journey to London. And that,’ she added, jabbing her finger in Matthew’s direction, ‘is not up for negotiation.’

      Matthew bit back his instinctive retort. There was no point in quarrelling with Eleanor in the mood she was in. Never had he come across such an opinionated female.

      ‘I can see you are determined to have your way, Eleanor,’ Lady Rothley said, ‘so I shall not try to dissuade you. But I give you warning—unless you treat this seriously, we shall return to Ashby, whether you like it or not.’ At Eleanor’s mutinous look, she continued, ‘If I leave London, you will have no option other than to accompany me. You could not remain there unchaperoned. Think of the scandal.’

      Eleanor visibly subsided. Her aunt’s emphasis on the word ‘scandal’ must have some particular meaning for her. Matthew wondered if she had been embroiled in some sort of scandal in the past. Was that why she was still unmarried?

      Lady Rothley returned to the sofa. ‘What precautions would you advise us to take, Mr Thomas?’

      ‘The servants accompanying you must be put on the alert immediately, as must the whole of your household in town as soon as you arrive,’ Matthew said. ‘I will escort you for the remainder of your journey and your niece must take care never to go out unaccompanied. And by that—forgive me, Lady Rothley—I mean that she must take someone other than yourself for protection.’

      He watched the conflicting emotions chase each other across Eleanor’s expressive countenance. He knew she was still mortified by their kiss, but that could not be the only reason she was so determined to hide her fears over the murder. Was it her reluctance to accept her cousin’s involvement?

      ‘There is no need for you to inconvenience yourself, Mr Thomas. I am certain you are reading far more into this than you need to. I am grateful for your concern, but I have no desire to cause further delays for you. You should forget all about this little matter and continue with your—’

      ‘Little matter?’ Matthew exploded to his feet, itching to take hold of Eleanor and give her a good shake. Infuriating woman!Have you not taken in a word I’ve said? You have more need of protection than I supposed, if that is your belief. I will not allow you to continue to put yourself in jeopardy—I must and I will escort you tomorrow. What if your cousin should try again?’

      Eleanor stared at him incredulously.

      ‘Ellie.’ There was a wealth of warning in Lady Rothley’s voice. ‘Please remember your—’

      ‘Will...not...allow? How dare you? You have absolutely no jurisdiction over me, sir. I have known you precisely one day. I have known James all my life. I will never believe him to be capable of something like this.’ She drew herself up to her full height, standing almost nose to nose with him. ‘I know him. You don’t.’

      She held his gaze, her large eyes defiant. If he continued to pursue the matter, might she stubbornly show her defiance by taking needless risks? Short of throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her off to safety—which, he thought with a silent oath, he would be more than happy to do at this moment—he was not sure how else to persuade her.

      But...there was one angle they had not yet considered. ‘Who else knew the details of your journey? Maybe that will help us to identify the culprit.’

      Eleanor stilled, staring at him, her eyes stricken, her rebelliousness dissipating as swiftly as it had arisen. ‘James.’ Her voice caught and the word came out as a croak. She cleared her throat. ‘James knew.’

      She slumped on to the sofa, next to her aunt, who clasped her hand.

      ‘He wrote and reserved the rooms for us in order that we would not be stranded for the night.’ She looked at her aunt, her tawny eyes huge in her suddenly ashen countenance. ‘I still cannot believe it. Not James. Oh, Aunt Lucy. How shall I ever face him?’

      ‘There, there,’ Aunt Lucy patted Eleanor’s hand, raising worried eyes to Matthew. ‘It seems we are indebted to you once again, Mr Thomas. Your offer to escort us tomorrow is gratefully accepted. Although,’ she added acerbically, ‘do not for a moment imagine that I have forgotten your earlier behaviour, for I have not.’

      Matthew merely bowed his head. He could not deny he was at fault there and could think of nothing to say that would not make an awkward situation even worse. When he raised his head, he found Aunt Lucy eyeing him with suspicion.

      ‘I am curious,’ she said. ‘How did you find us? And how did you come to be in here, alone, with Eleanor? I am certain Brooke would not have conducted you to our private parlour and left you here with Eleanor without so much as a maidservant in attendance.’

      Matthew cursed silently as the enormity of the lie he had told Brooke hit him. The innkeeper was certain to let slip his belief that his guest was a distinguished lord and married to Eleanor to boot.

      ‘I was late leaving Stockport because I had to speak to the magistrate before I could leave—’

      ‘Why should the magistrate wish to speak with you?’ Eleanor asked.

      ‘I told you—I was in the next bedchamber to the girl who was attacked. When she screamed, I went in. I saw him...but he gave me the slip.’

      ‘Then you know what he looks like. Describe him. I shall soon know if it was James.’

      ‘He wore a mask. All I know is that he was shorter than me and of a medium build. There are any number of men who would match that description. By the time I left I was sure you would be well on your way. We—that is, Henry and I—enquired at all the posting inns we passed until we found where you had stopped for the night. Mr Brooke was indeed reluctant to admit you were in residence. I’m afraid I had to resort to a little subterfuge.’

      Two pairs of eyes watched him expectantly. He drew a deep breath, bracing himself.

      ‘I told him I was Lord Ashby. Your husband.’

      There was a moment of stunned silence, then Eleanor let forth a peal of laughter that made Matthew stare in bewilderment. What on earth...? She should be furious...ringing a peal of anger, not laughter, over his head.

      ‘What is so funny?’ He sounded so stiff and pompous he almost cringed.

      Eleanor gasped for breath, hand flat to her chest, as giggles continued to spill from her lips. Was that a note of hysteria? Matthew glanced at Aunt Lucy, who looked as stunned as he felt.

      ‘Oh... I am so sorry...the look of dread on your face...if only you could have seen it...’

      ‘I shall, of course, ensure that you do not suffer by my hasty and ill-considered actions, Lady Ashby—’

      Eleanor sobered at his words. ‘Oh, no,’ she said. ‘Please do not. Really, Mr Thomas, I had begun to think you a man of sense, then you come up with the most ridiculous ruse to confound poor Brooke, and then find yourself forced to make amends by making an offer you clearly have no wish to make. Oh, this is just the spur I needed to jolt me out of that horrid fear that