Brides of London: Regency Romance Collection Read online

  Groaning, James rubbed his forehead with one hand before throwing back his brandy in one big gulp. Letting it run through him, he took in a long breath and let it out slowly, looking around the study as though it would provide him with some answers.

  None came. Making his way to the window, he looked out of it with a rather bored stare, still thinking about what he ought to do with Oliver. He watched the gentlemen and the ladies go by, the carriages and phaetons being driven slowly, and felt the tension begin to uncoil somewhat. He had changed how he treated Oliver and mayhap that was all that would be required. Mayhap Oliver would understand that this was the very last that James could give him and would respect that.

  Either that, or he would come begging for help again and James would have to find enough strength within himself to refuse. That would be difficult indeed, but he would have to remain strong, believing that he was doing what was best for his younger brother.

  Suddenly his eyes caught on someone. She appeared quite unremarkable at first glance, which was why he was surprised that his gaze snagged on her. She was walking slowly alongside an older lady, whom he presumed to be her mother or, if not that, a relative or companion. This lady was gesticulating in all directions, whilst the young lady appeared to be entirely disinterested. She was not even looking at the older lady, for her eyes roved about the street as though searching for anything that could take the place of the conversation she was meant to be engaging in. Her eyes were bright and sharp, with a few dark curls escaping around her face as her bonnet fought to contain the rest. She had a comely shape and was wearing a walking gown of light green, which made James wonder whether the shade matched her eyes.

  He caught himself. Whatever was he doing, staring at a young lady walking in the street? It was quite inexplicable, for he had never once found himself interested in a young lady before—they all appeared much the same to him, truth be told. They were all milk-and-water misses, or if not that, then overly confident, flirtatious gossips who wanted nothing more than to parade themselves through society without even a moment of consideration for anyone else. He tolerated them, coming into society each year so that he might enjoy cards, White’s, and the good company of his friends and acquaintances who arrived here every Season also. He did not want to be interested in any young lady and certainly could not understand why this young lady, stranger that she was, had suddenly caught his attention.

  It was rather odd, for as much as he wanted to look away, he found he could not. In fact, his eyes were fixed upon her, watching her every step, taking in her expressionless face and wondering what it was that she was trying so desperately to ignore. The lady beside her, still talking in a most animated fashion, was somewhat red-faced, mayhap becoming upset with how little the young lady was listening to her. Her frown and sharp expression made it quite clear that she was upset about something and try as he might to ignore it, James wanted to discover what it was that they were discussing.

  The young lady turned her head away from her companion, apparently caught up by something in a shop window, which seemed to distract the older lady for a few moments. When they turned back to walk again, the young lady had a small yet triumphant smile on her face, which, upon seeing it, made James laugh out loud, the sound echoing around his study. Goodness, he had never reacted so strongly to a young lady before in his life! And yet, this stranger, this unremarkable creature, had quite caught his attention merely by walking on the street below his house.

  “I must discover her name,” he murmured to himself, feeling his heart quicken and allowing himself to enjoy the experience of it. “I must know who she is and see why she has intrigued me so.” Realizing that the sight of this young lady had pushed all thoughts of his brother from his mind, James turned away from the window with a small sigh of regret and sat back down at his desk. Thinking for a few moments, he rang the bell and waited for his butler to arrive. There was much to arrange for this evening and he would have to ensure that his staff were prepared, including the tiger who would accompany them.

  “The last time,” he told himself as the silence of the room enveloped him, giving him no peace but instead, a feeling of deep frustration and concern. “This must be the last time and then…” Sighing, he rubbed his hands down his face, forcing himself to remain strong. “And then, no more. No matter what occurs, he will have to deal with the consequences of his actions. I can do no more.”

  3

  “Yes, Mama.”

  Henrietta tried her best not to roll her eyes as she alighted from the carriage, knowing that it was best not to further intensify her mother’s ire.

  “You are to retire at once,” Lady Cuthbert insisted, leaning out of the carriage door. “You are not to go hurrying off somewhere and hide yourself away. Do you understand?”

  Henrietta, who had no intention of leaving the house given the late hour and the fact that she was rather tired, merely nodded, turning about to face the carriage rather than the steps that led to the front door.

  “Of course, Mama,” she said as fervently as she could. “I am to retire immediately. I will do as you say, of course.”

  “No one is to call upon you,” Lady Cuthbert ordered, her brows low over her eyes. “And you are not to set foot out of this house!”

  The anger that ignited in Henrietta’s veins began to burn all through her. She knew full well that her mother’s concern came from the worry that Henrietta would do something foolish, given what had occurred some two Seasons ago. No matter how much Henrietta tried to reassure her mother, tried to tell her that she well understood the consequences of behaving in such a way again, Lady Cuthbert simply would not be pushed from the belief that Henrietta would do something like that again.

  “I am going to my bedchamber, Mama,” she stated, gritting her teeth and letting her hands curl into fists in order to try and contain her fury. “I have no intention of setting foot out of doors, nor have I made arrangements with anyone to call upon me.” Not that I would have been able to do so, even had I wished it, she thought to herself, far too aware of how her mother had been watching her every step at the ball that evening.

  Lady Cuthbert’s eyes remained fixed upon Henrietta, who felt the fierceness of that stare even in the gloom. The street lanterns were lit, yes, but they flickered rather sadly and did not do much to chase the darkness from them.

  “I shall not disobey you, Mama,” Henrietta said again, now wanting nothing more than for her mother to depart. “Please. Return to Lady Whitaker’s. You know very well that she is waiting for your return.”

  This seemed to bring to mind to Lady Cuthbert that her friends were, in fact, waiting for her and that she ought not to be tardy. Having been unwilling to settle into a game of cards with Henrietta still in the ballroom, Lady Cuthbert had insisted on taking Henrietta back to their townhouse under her supervision before returning to Lady Whitaker’s ball. The implication of this had stung but Henrietta had agreed quietly, not saying a single word of dissent.

  “Very well,” Lady Cuthbert muttered, sitting back in her seat and indicating that the footman could close the door. “But this carriage shall not leave until I see you safely inside.”

  Henrietta did not hesitate but turned around at once in a flurry of skirts and hastened towards the door. Only when she was greeted by the butler did she hear the carriage roll away. Her mother had finally gone.

  “I shall retire, I think,” she said to the butler with a rather rueful smile. “Might I have some warm milk sent up? I shall change directly.”

  “But of course.” The butler bowed and Henrietta made her way up the stairs to her bedchamber, feeling glad that she was no longer in the company of her mother, who had become somewhat unbearable of late. Ever since Henrietta had refused Mr. Statton some two weeks ago, Lady Cuthbert had been angry and easily irritated, and seemed to find fault with everything Henrietta did. This did not surprise Henrietta, who had expected as much, but still, it was growing rather wearying. Even now, she was bri
nging up the subject of Henrietta’s disgrace with Lord Kingsley some two years ago as a reason not to even allow Henrietta a moment of solitude. It was as though she expected Henrietta to repeat her mistakes, even though Henrietta had made it abundantly clear that she would never behave in such a way again. Even earlier that afternoon, Lady Cuthbert had done nothing but criticize Henrietta for refusing Mr. Statton. It had made her want to tell her mother the truth about Mr. Statton and what she had seen him do with the maid, but she had chosen not to do so, for fear that her mother would simply find a way to justify what Mr. Statton had done.

  Sighing heavily, Henrietta waited for her maid to arrive with the warm milk and to help her to change into her night things, sitting down heavily on the bed and putting her head in her hands. Why could she not be permitted just to enjoy this Season without continually being reminded of her past mistakes? Could her mother not allow her even a modicum of trust? It was both irritating and saddening and Henrietta had to do her best to try and keep her spirits high, in the desperate hope that her mother might change her attitude soon.

  It was an hour later and Henrietta had sent her maid away yet again, still not quite prepared to retire to bed. In fact, she had not even changed out of her gown, for her mind was still too heavy with thoughts. She had drunk her warm milk and tried to read a book so as to bring peace to her mind and help her to sleep, but as yet, nothing had taken the burden from her. The behavior of her mother brought an ache to her soul that she could not easily remove. It was saddening indeed and made her fear that she might never find a suitable gentleman, not with her mother so protective and always so near.

  A sudden sound caught her attention and she turned her head, expecting to see her maid opening the door. The door was not locked, for there was no one else in the house, and she had not yet retired to bed. Thinking that it would be best to change at the very least, so that her maid could retire, Henrietta got up to speak to her, only for the door to remain firmly closed. Confused, she took a few steps nearer, wondering what the sound had been, and spotted something on the floor only a few inches away from the door.

  It was a note. Frowning, Henrietta picked it up at once, mystified as to what it might be. Was there something wrong? Had one of the staff written to her by way of warning? Surely not!

  The note was sealed but the wax held no mark. Breaking it open, Henrietta began to read—and felt her heart slam into her chest with such force that she had to catch her breath.

  ‘Your mother is with me,’ the note began. ‘I have taken her from Lady Whitaker’s and shall not return her unless the rubies are brought to me.’

  Henrietta swallowed hard. The rubies? She did not know at first what the note referred to—only to recall that her mother’s priceless ruby necklace and earbobs were kept safely in another part of the house. They were something she had brought with her into her marriage and, as such, wore them very rarely, such was their value in terms of both money and family importance.

  ‘You shall bring them to the docks this very evening,’ the note continued. ‘Find the boat named ‘Solitude’ and leave them on the box by the gangplank. Then depart and your mother shall be returned to you. Speak to no one of this or the worst shall occur and her blood shall be on your head.’

  Henrietta did not know what to do. She shook violently, not quite certain whether this could be true or not. Most of the staff had gone to bed, which meant only her maid and mayhap the butler would still be present in the house. She closed her eyes tightly, her heart beating so painfully that she could barely breathe. The note had said not to speak to a single person about what she was expected to do. Did that include the staff? How was she to get to the docks without the carriage? Surely someone had to know of what she was doing, for if she left the house without warning, then they might fear for her safety.

  A vision of her mother lying, bound and mayhap gagged, in the back of some carriage, burned into her mind and left her almost nauseous with fear. She had no other choice but to do as she had been instructed. If her mother’s life was at risk, then she would do all she could to save her.

  Trembling, she staggered toward the door, pulling it open and hurrying to her mother’s bedchamber. The door was, thankfully, open, and she began to search for the rubies as quickly as she could, tears burning in her eyes and clouding her vision.

  “Mama,” she whispered, trying desperately to remember whether or not her mother had brought the rubies to London. “I am coming. I am coming to your aid, just as quickly as I can.” For a moment, she stopped and wondered whether she ought to seek out her maid and ask for her help, only to remember the dire warning in the note, and she felt a chill run down her spine. If she did that, then the worst might occur and her mother might be left to die alone in the dark.

  Then I must find them alone, she told herself, taking in a long breath and filling her lungs with air. Trying to find some sort of strength, some sort of resolve, she continued to search the bedchamber as quickly as she could, trying not to give in to the fear that caught at her heart, but instead focusing on what she must do in order to save her mother.

  The moment she found the large velvet box, Henrietta felt such relief swamp her that she could not breathe. Sinking down to the floor, her skirts pooling around her, she opened it carefully and saw the ruby necklace and the earbobs sitting there quietly, as though waiting for her to discover them.

  Tears slipped down her cheeks, unbound and unrestrained. Her hands shook as she closed the lid, holding the box tightly to her chest for a moment. This was all she needed to do, she told herself. She simply had to do as the note had instructed and all would be well. She could not even begin to think who might be behind the note, for so many people knew of her mother’s ruby necklace, such was the rarity of it, that anyone might have sought it for themselves. Her heart pounding, she tried her best to breathe slowly so that she would not go into a panic. There was a good deal yet for her to do and she would have to find more courage than ever before if she were to succeed.

  Quite how Henrietta made it to the docks, she did not know. She had managed to change from her gown into a walking dress in dark, muted colors and thrown a dark cloak over herself, which she now had lifted over her dark curls. The box of rubies, encased in a thick, cotton bag, was held tightly in her hand as she climbed down from the hackney.

  “You will wait for me?” she said to the driver, knowing that she had paid him well for this journey and praying that would encourage him to linger. It was just as well she had used very little of her pin money thus far, for otherwise she might have been required to walk to the docks.

  “No, miss,” the driver growled, looking about the dark docks, his face illuminated by the small lantern that hung on the side of his seat. “No, I will not wait here. This is not a good time to be at the docks, miss, and I cannot understand why you are so insistent on coming here this late at night.” He shook his head, looking at her beseechingly. “You ought to come right back into town, miss. I’ll drive you back home, no charge.”

  Everything in Henrietta wanted to agree, wanted to jump right back into the hackney and feel herself safe again, but she knew she could not. Why, at this very moment, the perpetrator might be waiting for the rubies, with his hand stayed only by the hope that she would be coming with them. If she did not appear, then her mother’s blood would be on her head and that was something she could not bear.

  “I cannot,” she whispered, shuddering violently. “I would return if I had the choice, but that is not something that I can do. Please, will you not wait for me?”

  The driver hesitated, then shook his head, clearly thinking that the money he had made might very well be stolen from him.

  “Then I must go on alone,” Henrietta said shakily, having no knowledge of how she would manage to return home after leaving the rubies where she had been directed. Without another word and feeling her legs trembling violently beneath her, she turned and began to make her way slowly toward the ships in the dock, grateful
that there was a little moonlight with which she might see her way.

  On more than one occasion, her foot slipped on something she could not quite make out, forcing her to reach out for whatever she could and to hold onto it tightly. Crates were piled high, nets thrown carelessly to one side or the other and, thankfully, there appeared to be no one else around.

  Her heart hammered, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps as she approached the ships that lay like great giants, towering over the rest of the docks. In the darkness, the shadows they cast made them seem like tormented beasts, swathed in gloom and all manner of evil. Shuddering violently but forcing one foot in front of the other, Henrietta continued toward the first, knowing that she would have to draw near in order to see the names of each ship.

  To her surprise, a lantern had been tied near the name of each one. Was this done each night or had it been done specifically for her own sake? Feeling as though eyes were watching her from some dark, unknown place, Henrietta continued on her way as quickly as she could, still fearing that someone might leap out and attack her at any moment.

  And then she saw it. Solitude. The name was written there boldly with the lantern light illuminating it like a beacon. Coming to a stop, Henrietta leaned back against a stack of crates, trying to catch her breath. She would not step out straight away, fearing that someone might be waiting for her. No, instead, she would be careful. Waiting until her heart had slowed just a little, she looked all about her, but it was futile. She could see nothing, could hear nothing aside from the waves and the wind coming from the sea. Her hands still shaking violently, she held the ruby box tight and stepped forward, seeing the box sitting alone just in front of the ship.