The crunching of hooves on gravel alerted Theo to the approach of a horseman. He stopped shaving and limped to the window. Looking out, he saw only the horse’s hindquarters.
Who the devil could be calling so early?
Crossing his bedchamber, he listened at the door as the butler answered the bell. A deep voice echoed up the stairs, but he could not make out the words. Murphy’s answer, though, he heard clearly. “He is, sir, but has not yet come down. If you will be good enough to wait in the parlor, I shall inform him of your arrival.”
While the two men moved through the house below, Theo finished shaving and washed the soap from his face. Thankfully, he was already dressed for the day. As Murphy’s footsteps sounded on the stairs, Theo pulled on his coat and went to meet him. The butler looked up when his master reached the top of the staircase. “Sir Steven Baldwyn is waiting upon you in the parlor, sir.”
“Thank you, Murphy.” Theo started down, taking one stair at a time. “Tell him I shall join him as soon as I negotiate the staircase.”
Upon reaching the first level, Theo hobbled toward the parlor, eager to know the Baron’s business. He found his guest standing before the window with his back to the room. In the hands clasped in the small of his back was a letter.
Praying it was from Louisa, Theo hurried to where he stood. “Good morning, Sir Steven. Is that letter in your hand for me by any chance?”
Rather than answer his inquiry, the Baron said, “You might wonder, under the present circumstances, why Lady Bennet and I encouraged your suit of Louisa.”
“Did you?” Theo was taken aback. “I was unaware of any encouragement.”
“No? Well, we did try to bring the two of you together—to circumvent her father’s edicts and give the poor girl some chance at happiness. But, as they say, even the best laid plans can go awry.” Sir Steven heaved a sigh and turned to face the Captain. “Believe me when I tell you we never dreamed her father would learn of the courtship…or take such drastic measures to keep the two of you apart. But, since things have indeed taken that turn, we would like to help put things right. And to that end, I have brought you this.” He held out the letter, but when Theo made to snatch it from his hand, the Baron pulled it back. “Before I turn it over, I need to ask you a question. Will you promise to answer me honestly?”
“Of course.”
“In that case, here is my question: Do you truly love her?”
“I do. More than I ever dreamed possible.”
“I thought as much, but needed to be absolutely certain.” Sir Steven smiled as he pressed the letter into Theo’s hand. “Promise me you will burn it once you have read its contents.”
“I promise.”
With burning curiosity, he broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. As he read the words scrawled across the page in a stylish hand, his mouth fell open in astonishment.
My Dear Captain,
There is much I need to explain, lest you suppose I used you ill by coercing a closer acquaintance between you and my daughter. From the moment you moved to Greystone Hall, I encouraged her to make your acquaintance and make of it what she could. When she sprained her ankle and you came to her aid, I entertained the great hope that the two of you would indeed fall in love and elope to Scotland, as I now know was your plan—until my husband interfered. He is a cruel and selfish man, Capt. Raynalds, and so is his nephew, who will treat our Louisa just as wickedly as my husband treats me. Their appetites are unnatural, you see, for the caring and tenderness of feeling that stirs normal people’s passions arouse not theirs in the least. Only control, humiliation, and abuse can do that.
Before I was forced by my parents to marry Sir Malcolm, I was deeply in love with another suitor—a regimental major who was killed very lately at Waterloo. When I married my husband, I was carrying my lover’s child at the time of our wedding. Seven months later, I gave birth to a healthy boy, who Sir Malcolm smothered in his cradle. I knew then what a truly self-serving monster he was. If he ever learned I told you of his crime, he would doubtless kill us both, so you must never, ever repeat what I have just revealed to another living soul—not even Louisa.
I want my daughter to be happy and to have a marriage built upon mutual love and respect, which I believe she could have with you. Even more so, however, I want to spare her the pain and suffering I have endured all these years at the hands of a deviant.
If you want those things for her as much as I do, go to Bath and retrieve her before her fate is sealed.
Theo’s heart beat faster when he saw, at the bottom of the unsigned letter, a street address in Bath. After committing the numbers to memory, he crumpled the letter, hobbled to the fireplace, and threw the wad into the flames. Only after it had been reduced to cinders, did he turn back to Sir Steven.
“Thank you for bringing the letter…and please express my gratitude to Lady Bennet for having the courage and decency to send me the information therein. As there is no time to waste, I must away at once. So, if you will kindly excuse me…”
“Yes, of course,” said the Baron. “I shall leave you to it with my best hopes and wishes.”
After Sir Steven left the house, Theo instructed his valet to pack his trunk. He then went into the dining room to grab a bite to eat and inform Winnie and Churchill of his plans to depart as soon as the carriage was loaded.
“Shall I come with you?” Churchill inquired.
“If you wish,” Theo said. “You must, however, be quick about your preparations, for I have not a moment to lose.”
“What about me?” Winnie asked in a tone suggesting she felt left out.
Theo cocked an eyebrow at his sister. “What about you?”
She did not look amused. “Can I not also come with you?”
He narrowed his eyes. “For what purpose?”
“To see you and Louisa married, of course—and to see Bath and Scotland, two places I have always dreamed of going.”
“If I am able to carry out my plans, we will be several weeks in Scotland, and, much as I love you and enjoy your company, I have no desire to bring an entourage along on my honeymoon.” When her face fell, he offered the appeasement of sending her a card from Scotland informing her their marriage had taken place. “Will that do as well, sister dear?”
“Not as well by half, brother dear,” she replied with pinched features. “But, as it seems I have no other choice, I suppose a note will have to suffice.”
* * * *
The rumbling of thunder called Theo from his dream, transporting him from Trafalgar to the interior of his own carriage. How long had he slept? How far had they traveled? He would have asked Churchill had he not been snoring away on the opposite seat.
Was that the noise that had drawn him from sleep?
Sitting up straighter, Theo lifted the shade and looked out through the dusty, half-open window. The sky was blue and cloudless over the stretch of river now visible on the right side of the road. A strong onshore wind blew the water’s bracken scent to his nose, bringing back pleasanter memories of his years at sea than those of which he’d been dreaming.
It was then he realized that neither thunder nor Churchill’s snoring had awakened him. Turning, he looked out the rear window. God in Heaven! There was a post-coach coming up behind them at breakneck speed.
Panic-stricken, Theo tried to think what to do. His two hackneys could never outrun the four horses drawing the coach. They must, therefore, yield, as post-coaches by law took precedence over all other conveyances on the road.
There was just one problem. There was nowhere to pull off on this narrow stretch of road. Already, the wheels of the landau were hugging the edge of the bluff overlooking the river. Yet on the coach came, careless of the hazards posed by attempting to overtake them.
Theo grabbed his cane and rapped hard on the roof. The whip cracked and the landau sped up, but the mail-coach was still bearing down on them. Mr. Bell cracked the whip again and the landau picked up more speed.
Churchill stirred and sat up, his face deeply etched with sleep-lines and concern. “I know you are eager to reach Bath, but driving the horses too hard will cost you more time in the long run.”
Theo explained their predicament as he bounced around on the seat.
“Good God,” Churchill cried. “What could that maniac be thinking?”
“I shall tell you exactly what he is thinking,” Theo ground out. “He is thinking about his schedule, the fine he will be charged if he is late, and not another bloody thing!—including our safety and the welfare of his passengers and horses.”
Talking grew too difficult to continue. The horses were now running at full speed and the landau was bouncing and pitching like a ship in a storm. Meanwhile, the mail-coach was still gaining ground.
Lowering the window, Theo stuck his head out and looked down. They were dangerously close to the edge. Pulling his head back inside, he looked at Churchill, now as white as his cravat. “Prepare yourself for the worst.”
“How far is the drop?”
“Far enough to do neither of us—or the carriage—any good.”
The coachman—devil take him!—was now attempting to pass them. Was the man out of his senses? He must be to attempt such a death-defying feat. Difficult though it was at the speed they were traveling, Theo slid across the seat to the other window, lowered the pane, and shouted over the hammering hooves of six horses, “You are putting us all in mortal danger!”
The coachman did not back off. More than once, the mail-coach slammed into them. Heart pounding as hard as his fury, Theo stuck his head out again and shouted at the top of his voice, “Stop this madness or we shall all be killed!”
Two of the coach’s wheels were up on the rise. The outriding passengers screamed and held onto the rails as baskets and other small items flew off the top.
“I shall report that lunatic for reckless driving at the next town,” Churchill shouted.
“As shall I…if we live that long.”
Churchill went pale. “Do you truly doubt we will?”
Before Theo could answer, the coach banged into them hard enough to raise the landau up on two wheels. For one heart-stopping moment, they hung there. Theo cursed, the horses shrieked, and the landau groaned like a ship. Then, a sharp snap cracked the air and over they went.
As the carriage rolled down the rocky embankment, Theo and Churchill were tossed about the passenger compartment like a pair of dice in a game of Hazard. When at last they hit bottom, the carriage landed on its side with its top wheels spinning.
Shaken by the fall, Theo took a moment to regain his bearings. As far as he could tell, his injuries were minor—only scrapes and bruises, thanks to the carriage’s well-padded interior. Churchill was beside him, looking dazed.
“Are you all right?”
“I believe so. No broken bones or spouting wounds, at least.”
Theo groped around him for his cane. Finding it, he used the tip to force the upper door open. Then, with a leg up from Churchill, he climbed out. Kneeling by the window with considerable discomfort, he reached back inside to give his friend a helping hand.
When they were safely on the ground, Theo surveyed the damage. The only real loss was the landau, which had suffered a broken axel along with numerous scraps and dents. Thankfully, the shaft had snapped just as they went over. Otherwise, the horses might have been killed.
Thankfully, they were up on the road, still harnessed to the swingle bar.
Mr. Bell was seated on a boulder a few yards away, hatless and rubbing his head. He was as lucky as the hackneys. Had he not been thrown clear, he might have been crushed under the carriage.
The thought of the reckless coachman who’d done this to them made Theo’s hands fist and his blood boil. If ever he got his hands on that imbecile, he would beat him even more senseless than he already was. After running them off the road, he had not even had the common decency to stop and offer assistance!
Theo shook his head and whacked the pebble-sand with his cane. How the devil was he going to get to Bath now? He could not leave the landau here to the elements nor could he and Churchill go on horseback without proper bridles and saddles. Those could be acquired, of course, as could a new carriage. Arranging such purchases, however, would take more time and money than he could spare.
Thrumming with frustration and despair, he walked to the river’s edge, hoping the water’s song would cool his anger and clear his head. His heart wrenched as he turned his thoughts once more to Louisa. The chances of saving her now were very slim indeed. Still, he had to try. For he would never forgive himself if he did not do everything in his power to stop her from marrying her detestable cousin.
Churchill had come up behind him. “If we dally, we’ll never get there in time.”
Turning, Theo regarded him warily. “How do you propose we proceed?”
“While you were standing here navel-gazing, I worked it all out. We shall ride the horses bareback until we find a livery stable. There, we will procure the tack we need and send someone out to see about your carriage and driver.”
Theo could find no fault with the plan, apart from leaving Mr. Bell behind. He could not take Louisa all the way to Scotland on horseback. The journey was far too long and rigorous. Buying a new carriage, therefore, was essential, but where would he ever find another driver on such short notice?
Unless…
Theo locked gazes with Churchill. “Would you be willing to drive Miss Bennet and I to Gretna Green?—assuming we get to Bath in time to save her, of course.”
Churchill bowed in the manner of a servant. “It would be my honor, Captain.”
That settled, Theo walked over to Mr. Bell (who had an egg-sized lump on his head), explained the plan, and gave the coachman enough coin to get him back to Much Wenlock.
Then, he and Churchill climbed up to the road, readied the horses, and set off at a canter. Within a quarter hour, they came upon the hamlet of Frocester, which, providentially, had a coaching inn and livery stable.
They transacted their business and were back on the road in under an hour. A ride of approximately five hours lay ahead. If all went well, they would reach Bath around nine o’clock in the evening—too late to secure a new carriage or call for Louisa at her aunt’s.
He would, therefore, have to wait until morning to claim her—preferably before church. He just prayed her relations would not make more trouble for him than he and Churchill could handle.
* * * *
“Get up, lazy bones or you shall miss breakfast—and possibly even church. In case you’ve forgotten, Pastor Williams will be reading the banns for the final time today!”
Louisa opened her eyes and blinked against the onslaught of morning light until she could make out the form of Miss Nicholson in the doorway.
“I have not forgotten,” she sullenly replied. “How could I?”
Miss Nicholson pursed her lips. “You should be joyful instead of morose, Miss Bennet. For in marrying Lord Hillsworth, you are the envy of every woman in Bath, myself included. Now get up, put on something pretty, and come have a bite to eat before we set off for the Abbey.”
The mention of food activated a wave of nausea. Feeling the sudden urge to vomit, Louisa leaned over the side of the bed and grabbed the chamber pot just in time.
“Oh, dear.” Miss Nicholson came into the room. “I thought you looked unusually pale. Are you unwell, Miss Louisa?—or are you merely excited about your rapidly approaching wedding?”
“I am sure it is nothing more serious than bridal jitters.”
Louisa tasted deceit beneath the lingering stomach acid on her tongue. In truth, she felt horribly ill, but did not wish to arouse Miss Nicholson’s suspicions. If, in the end, she was forced to marry her cousin, he must believe the child was his—even if she had to somehow induce an early birth. The life of her unborn child depended upon it.
Remembering her cousin’s vicious threat activated another bout of queasiness. Louisa, dearly wishing Miss Nicholson gone, heaved once more into the chamber pot.
Rather than retreat, Miss Nicholson advanced. “Are you certain it is only nerves?”
“Quite certain,” Louisa returned, forcing a smile. “Do not most brides get butterflies so close to their nuptials?”
“Yes, I suppose they do...”
Though the flicker of doubt in the secretary’s gray eyes concerned her gravely, she carried on with the charade. “Perhaps my stomach will settle once I’ve eaten something.”
“That is a good thought—and let us hope an accurate one as well. For you would not want to miss church on such an auspicious day.”
“No indeed.” Despite all her doubts and fears, Louisa still nursed the hope that Theo would put in an appearance. “I would not miss today’s service for the world.”
“Then I shall send up your maid to assist you in dressing.”
At breakfast, Louisa had only tea and dry toast. In the carriage, she was relegated to the back-facing seat, which only increased her biliousness. Thankfully, she made it all the way to the Abbey of St. Peter and Saint Paul without bringing up her scant breakfast.
The gothic cathedral, packed with well-dressed parishioners, smelled cloyingly of fresh flowers, burning candlewax, and an inharmonious blend of perfumes. Still queasy, Louisa grudgingly followed Charles up the aisle and into the family pew.
When the service got underway, she looked around for Theo. Not seeing him broke her last thread of hope. Bowing her head, she silently prayed: Please, God. Save me and my baby from Charles Hillsworth’s viciousness.