Historical Romance – The Best Of The Year. Кэрол Мортимер

but made no promises for he must consult Maddie’s wishes before giving her father that information. She’d been married once against her will and he did not quite trust her father. He was a selfish man, who had used his daughter ill once and might seek to use her to build up his own fortune given the chance.

      After taking his farewell, Hallam set off for his mother’s estate in Cambridgeshire. At least he had some idea of where Maddie might have gone, though he was still in ignorance of her exact location. However, there were one or two farmers he knew well enough to exchange words with, as he rode about the countryside, and surely one of them could tell him something.

      * * *

      ‘What have you learned?’ the marquis demanded from his henchman. He’d had the inn by the river watched since he’d first discovered where that interfering footman had taken Madeline and her maid, also Hallam Ravenscar’s lodgings, and now it had paid off. ‘Tell me, sirrah! Damnation! Am I served by imbeciles? Have you lost your tongue?’

      ‘I kept watch on the inn as you told me, my lord,’ the man said, watching his master warily. The marquis’s temper was violent when he was thwarted. ‘I saw the footman you wished to speak with and followed him to the lodgings of Major Ravenscar...’

      ‘Where is he now?’

      ‘He returned to the inn where he lodged for the night.’ Seeing the fury in the marquis’s eyes, he said quickly, ‘He left word for the major, sir—the lady is fled to Cambridgeshire, to a farm.’

      ‘You know the name of the farm—or the people she fled to?’

      ‘Yes, sir,’ the man said with a gleam of triumph in his face. ‘I stood beneath the open window and heard the footman give the landlady an address—the farm belongs to a Mr Jenkins and it is called Buttercup Farm. It is situated some ten miles beyond the small village of Fenstanton in Cambridgeshire.’

      ‘My God! I shall have her yet,’ the marquis cried, a gloating look in his eyes. ‘You have done well. Go to the kitchen and eat something. We leave within the hour.’

      No woman could be permitted to slight him. He had desired her from the first moment of seeing her, but her behaviour in first refusing his help in the rain and then flirting with him, only to repulse him when he attempted to make love to her, had aroused his fury. And that interfering fellow Hallam Ravenscar had dared to threaten him!

      Rochdale suspected an intrigue between them. If he could take his revenge on the wench, the annoying major would be well served—it would kill two birds with one stone, for once he had his hands on Madeline he would make sure she would never welcome the touch of another man.

      He would marry her whether she wished it or no and secure what remained of Lethbridge’s fortune to himself, for a run of ill luck at the tables had made his own finances temporarily difficult. Then, when he was finished with her, he would decide whether or not to let her live.

      * * *

      Madeline stood at the bottom of the stairs, listening to the sound of voices and laughter in the kitchen. She was pleased that Sally was settling in so well, though she knew that the girl had been restless since Thomas left seven days earlier. His journey was obviously taking longer than he’d envisaged and both Madeline and Sally were awaiting his return eagerly.

      Perhaps he would have news of Hallam, Madeline thought. She glanced out of the window. The wintry sun was bright and it had been dry for two days. She was too restless to sit in the parlour with her sewing and knew that Hattie would not allow her to do anything in the kitchen. She envied Sally, because she was busy and could fill the empty hours with little jobs that she enjoyed.

      She would take a little walk in the fresh air. It might help to clear her mind. Slipping her cloak about her shoulders, Madeline called out that she was going for a walk, but was unsure whether her friends had heard her. Leaving by a side door, she walked across an expanse of lawn and into the orchard. Birds were singing in the branches above her head and, as she left the orchard and passed into a narrow lane bounded by high hedges, she saw Hattie’s husband and waved her hand to him in greeting.

      He lifted his hand to acknowledge her, but was talking to two of his men and in truth could hardly have realised who she was for there was a distance between them and she had a hood over her head.

      The sun was warm enough, but the ground was still hard, because there had been a heavy frost overnight. It had not yet snowed, but the promise of it was in the air and the sky was dark grey. On the way here they had passed a small village with a pretty church. Madeline thought it would be pleasant to visit and perhaps make the acquaintance of the vicar and his wife. If she were to settle in the area, and she thought it was as good as any, she would need an interest and the vicar or his wife might know of some work she could do.

      Her spirits lifted a little as she walked. It was unlikely that her husband would find her here and she would like to live near her friends. Thomas had spoken of finding a cottage or an inn where they could all live. If he purchased an inn she could pay something for her lodgings—or perhaps she could find a position where she would be required to live in as a companion or a lady’s maid.

      Her thoughts went round and round in her head because as the days passed she had begun to fear that something must have happened to Hallam. Her father would know where Hattie lived, because she’d told him, but would Hallam have gone to him? And would her father think it Madeline’s duty to return to her husband?

      She could never do so! Her whole being recoiled from the thought of living with Lethbridge again. No, she would make a new life for herself somehow.

      She reached the village and went inside the church to admire the beautiful stained-glass windows, the altar with its gleaming brass and the displays of greenery and deep-crimson chrysanthemums. Decorating the church with flowers was something new and Madeline thought it a pretty change from the green boughs that had always been used at certain times of the year.

      The vicar entered as she was about to leave and Madeline exchanged greetings with him, promising that she would attend a service at the church very soon and venturing to ask if he knew of any work as a gentlewoman’s companion. She did not give her true name, but on the spur of the moment, used her mother’s maiden name, for she thought it would serve her better than her father’s. She would be Miss Madeline Heath, a spinster of good character recently forced to find work by a change in her circumstances and introduced herself as that lady.

      The vicar nodded, listening kindly to her request and then replied, saying that he would welcome her to his committee meetings and promised to make enquiries about a position as a companion, for he knew everyone in the district.

      Feeling more hopeful of the future, Madeline began to walk home. She decided to stroll back past the river and stopped to admire some majestic swans as they made their graceful way down the smooth surface of the softly flowing water. It was then that she heard something behind her—the snapping of a twig underfoot—and turned just as a man tried to grab her. Screaming, Madeline dodged past him and started running. From the corner of her eye, she saw another man coming at her from the side and gave a cry of despair. Her husband must somehow have discovered where she was staying and his henchmen had followed her. She should never have come out alone!

      They were gaining on her. She tried to run even harder and caught her foot in a rabbit hole, stumbling and almost falling. Before she could recover her balance the men were on her, one each side, holding her arms as she struggled and screamed.

      She could see a closed carriage waiting a short distance away and, as they began to drag her towards it, she screamed once more, knowing that once she was inside it she would be his prisoner.

      ‘You’d better come quietly, lady,’ one of the ruffians said. ‘Or we’ll have to knock you on the head. If we don’t take you, he’ll have us flayed.’

      ‘No, never! I shall never return to him! I would rather die!’

      Madeline kicked at his skins and fought harder, straining with all her might to break free, but they held on to her relentlessly. Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, she heard a shout and