Regency Romance Collection From Christina Courtenay (15 page)

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘Come down from the carriage. We are going to have some refreshment before we continue our journey.’

Ianthe gazed down at Gervaise’s outstretched hand and shook her head. ‘No, thank you. I’d rather stay where I am.’

‘It wasn’t a request,’ he said, his tone of voice menacing now. ‘Either you jump down by yourself or I’ll pull you. And I won’t be gentle, I can promise you that.’

Ianthe glared at him but realised she had no choice. He wasn’t as big as the marquess by any means, but he was certainly stronger than her and she had no doubt he’d carry out his threat without any hesitation. A quick glance around showed her that there was no one in the vicinity whom she could call on for help, and perforce she must do his bidding. She gritted her teeth and jumped.

Before she had time to remonstrate, he grabbed her hand in an iron grip and dragged her into the taproom of the inn. Ianthe recoiled at the musty smell inside, a combination of tobacco smoke, stale ale and food, and overwhelming body odour. Half a dozen men were lounging about, but no one paid much attention to them apart from the landlord, who came sidling up looking anxious to please.

‘A private parlour and be quick about it,’ Gervaise ordered.

‘Of course, sir, straight away. If you would follow me, please?’

The slovenly man led them down a narrow corridor and into a tiny room at the back of the inn. It was shabbily furnished and smelled as if the window hadn’t been opened for years. Ianthe almost gagged and tried to turn in the doorway, but Gervaise didn’t let go of her arm and pulled her through with a vicious tug at her wrist.

‘Bring some victuals, please, landlord, and ale for myself and wine for the lady.’

‘I don’t want …’ Ianthe began, but Gervaise turned on her and the words died in her throat. There was such menace in his eyes, she physically recoiled from him and stumbled backwards. The back of her legs collided with a chair and she sat down abruptly.

‘That’s better,’ Gervaise muttered and slammed the door shut after the obsequious man.

‘What do you want with me?’ Ianthe whispered, although she feared she knew only too well. She couldn’t believe her own sister had colluded with such a man to engineer her downfall. There could be no doubt about it; she’d seen the triumphant glint in her sister’s eyes.

‘You’ll find out in due course. We’ll be staying here until it’s dark, but for now all you have to do is sit quietly and not make a fuss. Is that understood? If I hear so much as a tiny protest out of you or a cry for help, you’ll be very sorry.’

Ianthe nodded. She understood exactly what he was saying and, for the moment, it behoved her to follow his orders. Meanwhile, she must try to find a way to escape. She simply couldn’t let this happen to her, not now there was so much at stake.

‘I’m going to the taproom for a while. You’re to stay in this room and not budge so much as an inch,’ Gervaise told her after they’d partaken of the tasteless meat pie and soggy vegetables brought by the landlord. Gervaise had grumbled about the fare but ate heartily nonetheless, whereas Ianthe only picked at it and left most of her portion on the plate.

She didn’t reply, since she had every intention of trying to escape the minute he left the room, but he didn’t seem to notice. She soon found out why he had so carelessly left her on her own. When she opened the door a crack, she came face to face with Gervaise’s tiger, a small youth who nevertheless looked strong enough to catch her should she try to dart past. He grinned at her in a leering way that didn’t bode well.

‘Goin’ somewhere, are ye?’ he asked, and chuckled when Ianthe retreated back into the shabby parlour and slammed the door in his face.

She paced the room, which was only about ten steps in either direction, muttering to herself. ‘Think, woman, think, there must be some way.’

While she walked, she took stock of the room’s contents and her eyes alighted on the bottle of wine on the table which remained largely untouched. It didn’t look like the sort of wine she normally drank and was no doubt vinegary, but an idea came to her and she began to smile to herself. Grabbing the bottle, she poured most of the contents on to the meagre fire, which was only spluttering anyway, and the rest into Gervaise’s empty ale tankard. That done, she went over to the door and opened it a crack once again.

‘Um, excuse me, but could you come and help me with the fire, please? It seems to have gone out,’ she said to the tiger, trying to look meek and downcast.

‘Fire? It’s bleedin’ summer!’ he replied. ‘Shouldn’t think as how you need it anyhow.’

‘But it’s awfully damp in here and I’m chilled to the bone,’ Ianthe insisted. ‘Mr Warwycke wouldn’t have any use for me if I was to become ill.’

‘Well, can’t you do it yerself?’

‘No, I don’t know how, you see. My maid usually does it for me.’

‘The Lord give me strength … Oh, very well,’ he grumbled and came into the room.

Ianthe retreated so that she was standing behind the door as he came in, and the moment he had entered fully, she brought the bottle down on top of his head with as much force as she could muster. It shattered, making an awful racket which had her gasping with fear in case anyone should come running to see what was going on, but it had the desired effect. The tiger crumpled to the floor without a sound. Feeling guilty for hurting the poor youth, even though she’d had no choice, Ianthe bent down to make sure he was still alive. To her relief, there was a fairly strong pulse beating underneath his ear, so she knew he wasn’t badly wounded.

Ianthe picked up her skirts and fled. She ran towards the back of the building, rather than the way they had come in, and found herself in a dirty kitchen where two women turned startled eyes on her. Ianthe put her finger to her mouth to keep them quiet, and whispered with a fake smile, ‘Shh, please, he likes it when he has to chase me a bit. Spices things up, you know. Don’t tell him which way I’ve gone or he’ll find me too quickly.’

The women nodded, looking bemused, but they seemed to accept Ianthe’s explanation and didn’t say a word. Ianthe darted out through the open door into the back yard and ran as fast as her legs would carry her, through a meadow of sorts and into an area of trees. From there she could see the road they had arrived on, and she decided her best chance would be to follow that back to where it divided from the main road. She didn’t go on to the road itself, but followed it from within the safety of the trees as no doubt Gervaise would come looking for her as soon as he found her gone. She had no idea how long it would take to walk back to London, but even if she had to keep going all night, she would.

Anything to escape Gervaise and his evil plans.

Two hours later, Ianthe was still walking and darkness was falling. She had found the main road and thanked her lucky stars she had paid attention to her surroundings rather than the Misses Gardiner’s chatter on the way there. It helped to recognise certain landmarks, so she knew she was on the right track. Fear of pursuit made her turn frequently to scan the road behind her, and whenever anyone approached she hid behind bushes or trees as best she could. Gervaise and his tiny henchman had gone past her twice on horseback, but luckily she’d been well disguised behind a thick hedge each time and they hadn’t spotted her. She prayed her luck would hold.

It was completely dark by the time she reached the village of Knightsbridge and Ianthe knew she didn’t have much further to go. Despite being used to walking a lot in the country, she was extremely tired, and wanted nothing so much as to be home and in bed.

Just as she reached the other side of Knightsbridge, the sound of horses’ hooves could be heard behind her again, and she looked around for somewhere to hide. But this time she was too late as one of the riders shouted out, ‘There she is, after her!’

Ianthe tried to make her tired legs run, but it was a futile effort and she knew it. There was a house up ahead, but it wasn’t long before her pursuers were upon her and she didn’t even make it halfway there. Gervaise grabbed her hair to stop her in her tracks, then jumped down from the saddle, throwing his reins to the tiger, who was astride the other horse. Ianthe cursed her bad luck. If only she’d managed to go just a little further, then there would have been people about.

Gervaise turned her round none too gently and shook her like a rag doll. She tried to fight him off, but his anger gave him added strength and she was so tired. ‘So you thought you could escape, did you? Stupid woman. Come on, you’ll have to ride in front of me.’

He pushed her towards the horse, and although she dug her heels in, it was no use. He gave her no chance to escape. Clawing and kicking at him, she screamed for help until he clamped a hand over her mouth. ‘Be quiet! No one is going to come to your rescue here, anyway. They’re used to members of the
ton
coming here with their doxies.’

He swept a glance over her clothing, which was now torn and travel-stained, and Ianthe realised no one would believe her if she claimed to be a lady of birth. Stifling a sob, she bit his hand and screamed again, even though she knew it was hopeless. He cuffed her hard before manhandling her up into the saddle.

‘Hold her while I mount,’ he ordered the tiger, but before he had time to do so, two more riders came galloping along the road and came to a skidding halt next to them.

‘Do you need assistance, Miss?’ one of them asked, and Ianthe almost fainted with relief when she recognised the voice.

‘Lord Wyckeham!’ she cried. ‘Oh, please help me, I … he …’ She couldn’t finish the sentence as tears of relief clogged her throat.

‘Miss Ianthe? By all that’s holy. What is going on here?’

Gervaise looked stunned for a moment, then he recovered his composure and strived for his usual nonchalant expression. ‘The stupid girl wanted an adventure, but now she’s getting cold feet. I was just about to take her home, but you may as well spare me the effort if you’re going towards London anyway. Here, she’s all yours.’

Without further ado, he pulled Ianthe off the horse and mounted it himself in one swift motion. She landed awkwardly, and Wyckeham jumped off his own mount in order to steady her. By the time he had done so, Gervaise and his tiger had ridden off in a cloud of dust.

Ianthe was shaking so much her teeth were chattering now. Wyckeham took off his jacket and draped it round her shoulders. He scowled at her. ‘What on earth were you thinking, to go off with that scoundrel? Were you out of your mind?’

‘N-no, I didn’t … it wasn’t like that … you must listen … I …’ Ianthe couldn’t form a coherent sentence.

‘Let’s get the poor girl home, Wyckeham. Looks to me like she’s had a nasty shock.’ Ianthe looked up at the second rider, whose presence she had forgotten for a moment, and registered the fact that it was the Earl of Somerville.

‘Oh, no,’ she muttered. It was bad enough for Wyckeham to see her disgrace, but the earl as well? No doubt the entire town would hear of it now.

Wyckeham nodded and put his arm around her to lead her over to his horse. ‘Whatever happened, you can tell us later. For now we need to get you home.’

With Lord Somerville’s help, he seated her in front of him and mounted behind her, holding on to her waist with one strong arm. Ianthe buried her face in his shoulder, too exhausted to think for the moment, and she felt his arm tighten around her. ‘Rest for a while, then you can tell us what happened.’

CHAPTER NINE

‘So you’re saying you were kidnapped by Gervaise?’

Wyckeham and Somerville were both staring at her intently as they rode the last part of the way into London. Ianthe had recovered enough to be able to give them an account of her ordeal, but it didn’t look like either of them believed her and her spirits fell even further.

‘I swear, it happened just as I’ve told you, but I don’t think Lord Robert or the others had any idea of what was afoot. I really didn’t want to get into the phaeton with Mr Warwycke, but it seemed churlish to refuse when Serena had hurt herself, and besides I thought we would all stay together like we did on the way there.’

‘You are certain your sister was really wounded?’ Wyckeham looked very sceptical. ‘It all seems rather convenient to Gervaise’s plans if you ask me.’

Ianthe didn’t reply, but stared at the ground.

‘What are you saying, Wyckeham? Are you accusing Miss Templeton of being an accomplice?’ Lord Somerville sounded stunned.

‘I wouldn’t put it past her,’ Wyckeham muttered.

‘We will have to get to the bottom of this,’ the earl said, his mouth a thin line of disapproval. ‘But Miss Templeton has always seemed to me to be a kind, caring person and I cannot believe she would do such a thing.’

Wyckeham sent him a sardonic smile. ‘Wearing rose-tinted spectacles, were you? Miss Templeton may be beautiful, but even you must have noticed her tendency to want to have her way at all cost?’

The earl looked slightly sheepish. ‘Well, of course, but a woman as lovely as that is bound to be a little spoiled. I mean, it stands to reason, but this,’ he waved a hand in Ianthe’s direction, ‘this goes beyond what is acceptable.’

‘Well, we shall see what she has to say shortly. And as for Gervaise, I’ll deal with him later.’

‘Oh, no, please, don’t ch-challenge him or anything!’ Ianthe begged, fear rising up inside her. ‘If you do, the whole
ton
will find out what happened and it’s his word against mine. I doubt anyone will believe me; my reputation will be in shreds.’ And she couldn’t bear the thought of Wyckeham fighting a duel with Gervaise. He might be hurt.
Or even die!

‘I suppose you’re right, but it goes against the grain,’ Wyckeham grumbled. ‘The man needs to be taught a lesson.’

‘I’m sure there are other ways of doing that. You’ll think of something.’

‘Indeed I will.’

Ianthe was relieved when the marquess said no more. She didn’t want to make any direct accusations against anyone, even her sister. As she’d said, it would be her word against theirs. Unwittingly, however, her sister gave herself away the moment they were all ushered into the hall.

Serena and her mother were just putting on their wraps, ready to go out. Ianthe entered first and Serena caught sight of her.

‘You!’ she spat, staring daggers at Ianthe. ‘What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be …’

‘Where exactly?’ Wyckeham asked silkily, coming in behind Ianthe. ‘With my dear relative Gervaise? Is that what you were going to say?’

‘Well, that is who I left her with and he said he’d … well, never mind that.’ Serena was scowling at her sister, oblivious to everyone else. ‘I should have known you’d spoil everything as usual.’

‘Serena, what is going on here?’ Lady Templeton regarded her eldest daughter sternly. ‘I thought you said Ianthe had retired with a headache. Are you telling me she never came home with you?’

‘No, she wanted to go off with Mr Warwycke so I covered for her.’

‘I wanted no such thing!’ Ianthe protested. ‘I was forced to ride with him because you had hurt your ankle, which by the way doesn’t seem to be bothering you now.’ Ianthe hadn’t noticed her sister limping at all.

‘You didn’t mention that.’ Lady Templeton was still frowning.

‘It was a mere trifle. Nothing to worry about. Only Mr Warwycke would make a fuss and insist I go in the barouche.’

‘Very convenient, and then he drove off with me in his phaeton without waiting for you and the others,’ Ianthe said.

Serena shrugged. ‘He told me he wanted a chance to be alone with you. I thought you’d be glad of an admirer. You haven’t exactly had them in droves. How was I to know he would take so long to bring you back?’

‘He’s the last man on earth I would want as an admirer, and well you know it. Besides, he had no intention of bringing me back and you were aware of that too, I’ll wager.’

Serena laughed. ‘And what if I was? You should thank me for netting you a husband at last. He’ll have to marry you now since you were alone for so long.’

‘Of all the underhanded …’ Ianthe didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence, as the earl chose this moment to step forward.

‘I think you should apologise to your sister at once,’ he told Serena. ‘You have behaved disgracefully.’ She jumped, as she obviously hadn’t noticed the earl’s presence behind Wyckeham, and blinked at him stupidly for a moment, but she soon regained her composure.

‘My lord, I didn’t know you were coming to fetch us. How v-very kind of you,’ she stammered, giving him her best dimpled smile.

He glared at her, seemingly oblivious to her charm for once. ‘I came only to escort your sister home,’ he said, no trace of his former infatuation in his expression. ‘And I’m very glad I did, as I have now seen the true Miss Serena Templeton. You will be relieved to know that I shall not be bothering you with my attentions henceforth.’

‘But, my lord!’ Serena looked aghast and hurried forward to put her hands on his sleeve. ‘This is all a misunderstanding. I can explain, really …’

He removed her fingers. ‘I don’t want to hear it.’ He moved over to bow to Ianthe. ‘Ma’am, I’m glad Wyckeham and I arrived in time. I shall take my leave now, but I hope to see you out and about again very soon. You can rest assured not a word about this evening will escape my lips.’

‘Thank you, my lord, you’ve been most kind.’

‘Not at all, I was happy to be of assistance.’ He bowed to the others, but not to Serena. ‘Lady Templeton, Wyckeham.’

‘But Lord Somerville, I …’ Serena tried once more to make him listen to her, but he simply strode out of the house. She stared after him in disbelief, then erupted into a temper tantrum. She whirled on Ianthe and tried to claw her face. ‘This is all your fault, you stupid, lying little twit.’

‘Enough.’ Wyckeham stepped in front of Ianthe, as if to shield her with his body.

‘Serena!’ Lady Templeton grabbed her daughter’s arm at the same time and yanked her away. ‘How dare you? You will go to your room at once and stop this unseemly behaviour. We will speak of this later, but rest assured that your London season is over and your father will be informed immediately. I see now that I have indulged you too much. Well, no more. Now go!’

Shocked by her mother’s unusually stern tone and cold words, Serena froze, then turned on her heel and marched up the stairs, still muttering. Silence descended on the hall.

‘Would you care for some refreshment, my lord?’ Lady Templeton asked Wyckeham, making a visible effort to compose herself.

‘No, thank you, but I think Miss Ianthe may need something. I doubt she’s eaten since lunchtime.’ He looked at her with concern and Ianthe felt a warm feeling spreading through her as she realised that thanks to Serena’s outburst, he now believed her fully.

‘I’m all right,’ she said. ‘I’d just like to sit down.’

‘Then take his lordship up to the drawing room, my dear. I shall ask cook to prepare something for you.’

Before she had time to protest, Wyckeham picked Ianthe up and carried her up the stairs to the first floor. Once inside the drawing room, he set her on her feet but didn’t let her go. She stared up at him, feeling unaccountably shy all of a sudden.

‘I’m so sorry about all this,’ she said. ‘I’ll quite understand if it’s given you a disgust of me and you no longer want to …’

He put a finger over her mouth. ‘Shh, you goose. I know it was not your fault, knew it the minute I set eyes on Gervaise in fact.’

‘But you were so angry with me.’

‘Not really, it was fear made me speak that way. I thought for a moment I had lost you to Gervaise, but I should have known you have more sense.’ He smiled at her and bent to kiss her gently on the mouth.

Ianthe closed her eyes and savoured the feel of his lips on hers. It was wonderful and her whole body melted into his, yearning for more, never wanting it to end. Unfortunately, he pulled away all too soon and smiled at her. ‘You haven’t changed your mind then?’ he asked.

‘About what?’ She was still in a daze and didn’t know what he was referring to at first, until she realised he meant marriage. ‘Oh, no, of course not, but … did you see Papa?’

‘Indeed I did, and once I had persuaded him to believe that the rumours about me are untrue, he was very happy to give us his blessing.’ Startling Ianthe, he sank on to one knee in front of her, taking hold of one hand. ‘Miss Ianthe Templeton, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

She smiled, feeling happiness bubble up inside her. ‘Of course, I would like it very much.’

‘That’s settled then,’ he said and stood up again, taking her into his arms and kissing her once more, this time for much longer, but still not long enough in Ianthe’s opinion. She could have stayed in his arms all night, but he soon led her over to a sofa and made her sit down. ‘You’ve had a shock and we have all the time in the world to make plans. For now, I think you should just eat a little, then go to bed.’

It was only after they had accepted the rapturous congratulations of Lady Templeton and he had finally taken his leave that Ianthe realised he still hadn’t said he loved her.

So why then was he marrying her?

The wedding took place only two weeks later and their whirlwind romance was the talk of the
ton
. Wyckeham obtained a special licence so they could be married quickly, and Ianthe was happy to go along with his plans. She had never craved a big, formal wedding anyway and thought their private ceremony perfect. The fact that Serena had been banished to the country and could not attend made it even better as far as Ianthe was concerned. She didn’t want anything to spoil the day.

If she had any doubts, it was only because he had yet to tell her he loved her, but she reasoned that she was asking too much and just getting along well was enough. He’d obviously based his decision on that. After all, hardly anyone married for love. Practicality had more to do with it, and there was no doubt they enjoyed each others’ company. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder if he would say anything on their wedding night. They had hardly any time alone before that as the preparations took every waking moment, but once it was all over, they would be together all the time.

They set off after the reception and stopped for the night at an inn halfway to Wyckeham Hall. The marquess asked for two adjoining rooms and after supper in a private parlour, Ianthe withdrew to prepare for the night. Dupont was with her. As promised, Ianthe had asked her mother if she could take the maid with her and Lady Templeton had been only too pleased.

‘You’ll need someone you’re familiar with. It will help you to adjust to your new circumstances. By all means, take Dupont if she doesn’t mind.’

Ianthe had a suspicion her mother was being extra nice to try to make up for her previous preoccupation with Serena, although she would never admit as much.

Wyckeham took his time before he finally came to join her and when he did, Ianthe was dismayed to see that he was fully clothed.

‘Are … are you not coming to bed?’ she asked, hardly daring to look at him.

‘Not in here, no,’ he replied. He made his way over to the bed and sat down next to her, taking one of her hands in his. ‘Don’t misunderstand me. I would very much like to join you, but I think we ought to get to know one another better first. Everything has been such a rush, don’t you think? I don’t want to frighten you.’

‘I … yes, I suppose so.’ Ianthe’s heart sank. Ostensibly he was being kind, but she couldn’t help but think that perhaps he simply didn’t want her very much. It seemed obvious now that he had married her for convenience only and although he would have to consummate the marriage at some point in order to beget heirs, he was in no hurry to do so. She couldn’t complain, however. She was much better off as his marchioness than as an unmarried wallflower, so she made an effort to smile at him. ‘Goodnight then.’

‘Goodnight.’ He bent to kiss her cheek, then he was gone.

Jason leaned back against the closed door to his own bed chamber and gritted his teeth. Walking away from Ianthe after only a chaste peck on the cheek was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but he felt he owed her that much. As he’d said, everything had been done in a rush and it was his fault. He hadn’t wanted to stay in town a moment longer than necessary, but had he been selfish?

I never actually asked her if that was her wish too.

His conscience pricked him. She’d seemed happy enough to fall in with his plans, but how much of that was due to the fact that her relatives were over the moon about her marrying a marquess? No doubt they’d told her to do whatever it took to secure such an advantageous match.

And now it was done. She was his wife and it must all feel very strange to her.