A Regency Courtesan's Pride. Ann Lethbridge

threw off the blanket and jumped down. No waiting for help for Miss Draycott; it didn’t surprise him in the least.

      ‘Clydesdales,’ the giggly girl said, stroking the offside horse’s nose. ‘They are beauties.’

      The horse nuzzled at her hip. ‘I don’t have anything for you,’ she said with obvious dismay.

      ‘I do,’ Merry said and pulled a lump of sugar from her pocket.

      The girl’s face lit up, making her look terribly young. No more than eighteen, Charlie was sure. Too fresh-faced for the kind of life she’d fallen into. The freshness would fade all too quickly in her line of work.

      The other woman stayed well clear, obviously unused to such large animals.

      ‘Lord Tonbridge offered to take the girls for a drive,’ Merry said to Mrs Falkner.

      Mrs Falkner eyed him a little askance.

      ‘I won’t take them out of sight of the house,’ Charlie hastened to assure her. ‘A couple of spins around the lawn.’

      The girl petting the horse turned a hopeful expression in Mrs Falkner’s direction.

      ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Thank you, Lord Tonbridge.’

      ‘Don’t thank me, it is Miss Draycott’s rig.’

      ‘Let me introduce you to the girls,’ Merry said. She pointed to the giggly one. ‘Ladies, this is Lord Tonbridge. This is Beth and that is Jane.’

      Jane lifted her chin as if daring him to say anything about their earlier meeting.

      ‘What about the lad?’ Charlie asked. ‘Would he like to go, too?’

      ‘That is Thomas,’ Merry said. ‘Mrs Falkner’s son.’

      Charlie touched his hat. The boy bowed with a grace many men would envy.

      An anxious expression crossed Mrs Falkner’s face.

      ‘Please, Mama,’ the boy said.

      ‘Tonbridge is a very good driver,’ Merry said. ‘I can assure you, Tommy will be perfectly safe.’

      The boy looked pleadingly at his mother.

      ‘Very well,’ Mrs Falkner said. ‘Stay close to Beth, Thomas.’

      Charlie jumped down to help the ladies aboard, handing Beth up first into the back seat. An eager Thomas waited his turn.

      ‘You can sit next to me,’ Charlie said and lifted the boy up into the front seat, ignoring Mrs Falkner’s frown. The boy’s happy smile clearly prevented her from remonstrating. He pretended to notice nothing amiss and held out a hand for Jane.

      She shook her head with an ingratiating smile. ‘Not me, thank you very kindly, my lord. I need a good walk after being shut up in t’house for days, if it’s all right with you, missus?’

      Mrs Falkner nodded. ‘When you return, come to the day parlour. I will ask Gribble to send up hot chocolate. I doubt his lordship will be long.’

      A warning to Charlie. The woman was a proper mother hen. He hid the urge to grin.

      Jane nodded and trudged along the tracks left by the sleigh, heading for the gates. Mrs Falkner watched her go with a frown.

      Merry released the horses’ heads and stood back. Not that the team really needed holding—Charlie had never driven more placid obliging beasts.

      He flicked his whip over their heads, jingled the bridles and they lumbered forward. He glanced down at the bright-eyed boy beside him. ‘Would you like to hold the reins?’

      The boy stared up at him. ‘Will you teach me how to do that thing with the whip?’

      ‘Get used to guiding these beasts first,’ he said. He turned and looked over his shoulder. ‘Everything all right, Beth?’

      ‘Oh, yes,’ she breathed, her eyes shining.

      The sleigh glided off.

      Merry stood beside Caroline and watched the sleigh draw away. ‘How kind of him.’

      ‘Very,’ Caroline said. ‘What is he after?’

      ‘Not me, sadly.’ Dash it. Was she speaking the truth?

      ‘Merry!’ Caroline sounded shocked.

      ‘He offered to help me with the mill owners, that is all.’

      Caro frowned. ‘Won’t that look rather odd?’

      Merry stiffened. Another person who viewed her as beneath a marquis’s touch. ‘Do you think so?’

      ‘Merry, can’t you see? If a man like Tonbridge takes an interest in your affairs, might they not make assumptions about why? Why does he want to help?’

      ‘Out of friendship. Gratitude.’

      Even to Merry’s ears it sounded rather weak. Nothing but the truth would do. ‘He thinks someone tampered with the carriage.’

      Caro pulled her gaze from the slowly diminishing sleigh, her wide eyes searching Merry’s face. ‘Oh, no. Surely not?’

      ‘I think someone wanted to give me a warning, but Tonbridge is taking it more seriously.’

      ‘This must stop.’ Caroline clasped her gloved hands together. ‘First a fire. And now this. We will set up the house somewhere else. I will not endanger your life.’

      ‘Do you think it will be different elsewhere?’

      ‘I won’t have your death, or your injury, on my conscience.’

      ‘It is not your decision.’

      Fists clenched, Caroline spun away. ‘I will have nothing to do with it.’ It was the first time they had ever argued. Merry felt quite adrift, as if she’d lost her friend.

      ‘Caro, we can’t just give up.’

      Caro turned around slowly. ‘Why not?’

      ‘A Draycott never admits defeat.’

      ‘Never is a long time. Please, Merry. We will find another way. We certainly don’t need to involve a man like Tonbridge in our affairs.’

      Merry stared at her friend. Perhaps she was right, but it felt galling to give in to threats.

      Caro turned to watch the sleigh in the distance. ‘Oh, good Lord, is that Thomas standing up?’

      ‘Yes,’ Merry said, nodding. ‘Charlie seems to like children, doesn’t he?’

      ‘Charlie?’

      ‘We are friends.’ Dash it, did she sound too defensive? ‘I told him to call me Merry the first day we met.’

      The suspicious gleam in Caro’s eyes made her skin itch as if she’d done something wrong.

      ‘Be careful, Merry,’ Caroline said, shading her eyes with her hand. ‘A man with his kind of charm and wealth is used to getting his own way, and it will be for no one’s benefit but his own.’

      Merry’s stomach dipped. Few men did anything out of altruism. He would want something in return. Caro put an arm around her shoulder. It was an unusual display of affection. ‘Tell him you don’t need his help. Like all men, he’ll want to take control. We don’t need a man to solve our problems. We will deal with it.’

      Caro was right. Of course she was. What on earth had she been thinking? She’d never needed anyone’s help since Grandfather’s death, despite her mother’s family trying to insert themselves into her business. She would tell him not to bother with the councillors or the magistrate, that she was giving up her plan. She’d wait until he left before she tackled the problem.

      She and Caro would manage.

      All through the