Regency Society Collection Part 2. Ann Lethbridge

      ‘Now,’ he said, ‘I can concentrate on you, instead of these beasts.’

      The thought of him concentrating on her made her breathless with longing. But it was not what he meant, surely it was not. She tried to ignore the trickle of hope sliding around in her stomach. She stared at the horses tossing their heads at every pedestrian they passed. ‘What they really need is a good long run.’

      ‘Should I have whisked you away to Brighton? I have the key to the Pavilion.’

      The words were said with a teasing note, but she sensed an undertone of challenge, or perhaps a shadow of hope. She fought the very real urge to say yes, to kick over the traces she’d forced herself into these past years, the curb of propriety and duty.

      ‘It was simply a comment.’

      ‘Naturally,’ he said.

      ‘Well, here I am, all attention. What was so important that you must speak to me alone?’ The words sounded sharper than she had intended, sharp enough to ensure her heart was not hanging on her sleeve like a flag.

      The teasing light in his face disappeared and her foolish heart regretted the loss. ‘You’ve changed, Ellie.’

      ‘I’m older and wiser.’

      ‘And none too happy, if I’m not mistaken.’

      ‘My happiness is not your concern.’ How could she ever be happy, hearing about his conquests, knowing other women were enjoying favours that could have been hers? And like a fool, she drank up every mention of his name because it brought him closer, when it was quite obvious he never thought of her at all. Until he wanted something.

      ‘It could have been,’ he said.

      But she’d chosen. And she lived with the choice no matter how painful. ‘Your question.’

      ‘Quite honestly, I’m not sure how to ask.’

      ‘Ask.’ The torture of having him close, of hiding the warmth running beneath her skin, was a bit like trying to hide a fever. A fever with no cure.

      ‘After you…after it was all over, Beauworth held no interest for me. I joined the army. Rumours circulated that I’d ruined a noblewoman.’ The words were spoken calmly enough, but bitterness rang in his voice.

      ‘I never spoke of what happened to anyone,’ she said.

      ‘Except your brother.’

      She recoiled. ‘Are you saying William blackened your name?’

      ‘Yes.’

      The flat statement knocked her off kilter. The carriage remained steady, but she felt as if she was being buffeted on all sides by a strong cold wind.

      ‘There is something I want you to tell your brother.’

      She could just see herself talking to William about Garrick. ‘I—’

      ‘Tell him it wasn’t me who crippled him.’

      The cold wind turned into an icy gale. She put a hand to her throat, felt the hard beating of her heart. ‘What?’

      ‘Your brother caught me exiting a window of the porter’s lodging. He knew whose chamber it was and went off to report my despicable behaviour. I think he had some sort of boyish crush on the girl. Believe me, she wasn’t the angel he thought.’

      ‘Is that what happened? He never told me the full story.’

      ‘He doesn’t know the full story.’

      He guided his team past a young gentleman in a phaeton who had stopped to greet some ladies on foot.

      ‘Your brother hit me from behind. Stunned me. I called him a sneak and a tell-tale in front of his friends and threatened him with a sound thrashing.’ He winced. ‘I lost my temper. Later that night someone went to his room and beat him with a club as he slept.’

      ‘He says it was you.’

      His mouth tightened. ‘I wasn’t the only one punished. The porter was removed from his position, but someone forgot to retrieve his keys. Or perhaps he had an extra one. He’d lost far more than I. A month of waiting on the teachers’ table doesn’t warrant beating a man to within an inch of his life.’ His voice was grim. ‘Losing your livelihood might.’

      Oh, God. And she’d believed William. She felt as if her heart might break. She stared at his profile. He looked unmoved. Completely unaffected. How could he be so cool, so icily calm, when he’d been so unjustly accused? Perhaps he no longer cared. ‘And you have proof of this?’

      He glanced at her with a cynical curve to his mouth. ‘Still doubting me?’

      ‘No. I was thinking of William. It will not be easy to change his mind after all these years.’

      He nodded slowly. ‘I found the daughter a year ago. Her father is dead and she’s fallen pretty low, but she remembered me. She was happy to tell me the truth. She’d do so on the Bible and can point to the men who helped him. Ellie, more important than William, do you believe me?’

      An odd bubble of joy filled her heart. The relief of knowing she’d been right about him all along seemed to take a heavy weight from her shoulders. ‘Yes. I do. I wish I had known when—’

      ‘So do I. Setting the record straight about your brother, however, wasn’t my primary reason for wishing to have a private conversation.’

      ‘Then what?’

      ‘Cast your mind back to the day of the ransom. To Piggot’s letter, if you will?’

      They passed a barouche with an elderly woman and a pretty young lady. Garrick bowed an acknowledgement as they shot by.

      She remembered too much about those days. But the letter? She frowned. ‘William dropped it at your feet.’

      ‘I left it there. Didn’t want to give them a shot at you.’

      He’d been brave that day, saving her life and William’s. ‘It was addressed to you. That is all I remember.’

      His grip tightened on the reins as the horses started forwards. It was a few moments before he had them in hand again. ‘Why?’ he said.

      ‘I beg your pardon?’

      ‘Why was it addressed to me, the accused? And what happened to it?’ While his expression remained calm, if a little grim, anger tinged his voice.

      ‘I have no idea. I’m sorry.’

      ‘I want that letter.’

      What did this have to do with her? ‘Le Clere must have picked it up during the mêlée.’

      ‘Impossible. No. Someone else picked it up.’

      ‘Who?’

      He looked as her sideways. ‘Who do you think?’

      ‘If William had retrieved the letter, all he had to do was hand it over to the authorities and send you back to prison.’ Her stomach dipped.

      ‘Precisely. I want that letter, Ellie.’

      The blood in her veins seemed to have been exchanged for melted snow. She took a breath. ‘You think I have it.’

      He didn’t have to answer.

      She did not have his stupid letter, but from the look on his face he wasn’t going to believe a word she said. ‘Why would you want it after all this time?’

      His gloved hand tightened on the reins. ‘Because it was addressed to me.’

      ‘I don’t have it.’

      He sighed. An impatient male huff of breath. ‘All right. Let me tell you what happened. You climbed aboard that cart and bandaged me up. For which I thank you. Then you walked back across that field and picked up the letter. Did