Alissa Baxter (32 page)

“The — the dictums of propriety!” Alexandra spluttered. “You abduct me in this despicable manner in order to force me to marry you, and yet you have the audacity to sit in judgement of my conduct! Sir, you render yourself ridiculous!” Alexandra said sharply, turning away from Mr Ponsonby and staring out of the window. She noticed that already the houses were growing further and further apart. Very soon, they would leave London completely behind them. Alexandra sighed, knowing that with every yard the coach covered, she was travelling closer and closer towards an extremely unpleasant future.

The chaise bumped and lurched its way over the bad road, but before long they came to a heath, dotted over with clumps of bushes casting long, eerie shadows in the pale moonlight and some tall larch trees stretching their branches upwards to the inky blue sky. Alexandra surmised, with a shiver, that the desolate stretch of land over which they were travelling was Finchley Common. They had been passing through the heath some way when Alexandra thought she heard the sound of horses galloping behind them. She looked across at Mr Ponsonby and noticed with some surprise that her abductor was lost to slumber, lying back against the seat of the carriage with his head lolling to one side. Her heart began to pound as she realised that this could perhaps be her only chance to escape from him. Alexandra was about to lean out of the window to wave frantically at the driver of the other carriage in the hope that she could perhaps alert him to the fact that she was in danger, when suddenly there came a thundering of hooves, a shot, a lurch, and the sound of confused voices raised in uproar as the coach was brought to a swaying halt.

Mr Ponsonby awoke at the commotion and, blinking owlishly at Alexandra, asked her what was happening. Before Alexandra could say anything, the door of the coach was pulled open and the Duke of Stanford sprang up into the carriage. Alexandra simply stared at him, at a complete loss for words. She had assumed that highwaymen were holding them up when the shot had rung out and the carriage was jerked to a halt; never that anyone, least of all the Duke, may have heard of her abduction and come to her rescue!

The Duke seated himself beside Alexandra, stretching his elegantly sheathed legs out in front of him. He studied the other man for a long moment, before saying, “Explain yourself, Ponsonby.”

Mr Ponsonby’s florid countenance suffused with even more colour as he stared at the formidable man sitting across from him, and he cringed back into his seat. Eventually, he opened his mouth to say something but he appeared to be at a loss for words. Alexandra, tired of waiting for him to speak, turned towards the Duke and said, “Mr Ponsonby abducted me from Vauxhall Gardens this evening, your grace. His plan was to flee with me across the border to Gretna Green where he intended coercing me into marriage.”

The Duke looked down at Alexandra, before turning his attention once again to the man sitting across from him. “I had gathered as much,” he said quietly.

Mr Ponsonby, suddenly regaining the use of his voice, said in a high pitched tone, “It — it is not as it seems, your grace. I can explain... Miss Grantham has developed a
tendre
for me. Indeed, she has! Although she refuses to admit the fact to herself, she is head over ears in love with me.”

Alexandra looked blankly at Mr Ponsonby. “What did you say?”

“You have a
tendre
for me, my dear. We both know that.”

Alexandra shook her head. “I refused your proposal of marriage, Mr Ponsonby. That clearly illustrates that I am not — and have never been — enamoured of you.”

“You only did that, Miss Grantham, to make me even more keen to pursue you,” Mr Ponsonby said eagerly. “Since time began young ladies have been using that ploy to ensnare men.”

“You are delusional, sir,” Alexandra said, staring at him in consternation.

Mr Ponsonby pursed his lips. “Indeed I am not. You love me, but are intent on marrying Stanford for his fortune. Admit it, Miss Grantham. Your heart is torn in two — between your mercenary needs and your desire for me!”

Alexandra gasped. “Mr Ponsonby, I have a fortune of my own — as you well know — and have no need to marry. If I do ever marry it will be for love, not for security. You are saying these things merely to make yourself look in a better light to his grace.”

“No — no, Miss Grantham, we both know -”

“Silence, Ponsonby! You have said enough,” the Duke ordered, looking at Mr Ponsonby contemptuously. “I shall give you until the end of this week to settle your affairs, then you will leave England for the Continent, never to return. If you disobey me in this, you will live to regret the consequences of your foolhardiness. It would be most unwise of you to cross me. ”

“But -” Mr Ponsonby stopped short when he saw the menacing look on Stanford’s face.

“I have not called you out, Ponsonby, because I desire no breath of scandal to attach itself to Miss Grantham’s name. You can count yourself fortunate in that regard.”

Mr Ponsonby wiped the beads of perspiration that had suddenly appeared on his forehead with a handkerchief. He had been infinitely afraid that the Duke of Stanford, who was an excellent shot, would in fact call him out, and had realised that the only way that he could prevent such a thing from happening was to pretend that Miss Grantham was, in fact, enamoured of him, so that his grace would perhaps be merciful to him. From the moment the Duke had climbed into the carriage, nightmarish visions had been flitting across his mind of himself lying fatally wounded on Westbourne Green, and he knew that he was fortunate indeed to have escaped that hideous fate.

Mr Ponsonby started when the Duke said sternly, “Are we agreed, Ponsonby?”

He nodded his head and was relieved beyond measure when the Duke of Stanford, having nothing more to say to him, opened the door of the carriage, jumped down, and helped Miss Grantham from the coach. The Duke closed the door of the coach and Mr Ponsonby heaved a sigh of relief. His relief, however, turned quickly to dissatisfaction as he fell to wondering how Stanford had come to know about his plan to abduct Miss Grantham. At length, he came to the rather galling conclusion that Miss Grantham must have called his bluff and informed the Duke of the letters he had sent her. He had been convinced that Miss Grantham would never put her brother’s life at risk by disregarding his threats. The members of the
ton
had noted, when Sir John had arrived in London a while back, that the Grantham siblings appeared to have a remarkably close relationship. He had been certain that Miss Grantham would abide by his instructions. Mr Ponsonby scowled as he contemplated the puzzle. Shaking his head, he leant out the window and testily ordered his coachman to drive him back to town.

Mr Ponsonby was not the only person wondering how the Duke had come to know of the abduction. Alexandra, seated beside the Duke in his curricle on their way back to London, was also pondering the matter. However, the presence of the Duke’s tiger, Jimmy, seated on his perch behind them, prevented her from asking him any probing questions. Rather impatiently, she realised that she would have to wait until she was private with the Duke before she could find the answers she sought. The journey back to London passed in silence and Alexandra, who at first had been simply relieved to have escaped from Mr Ponsonby’s clutches, became more and more tense with each passing mile, because she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the confrontation awaiting her with the Duke when they returned to Beauchamp House would in all likelihood be far from pleasant. Sneaking a look at the man beside her, Alexandra noticed the taut set of his jaw, and realised with a sinking heart that he was not in the most agreeable frame of mind. She shivered in the cool night air, her heart beginning to hammer as she contemplated the Duke’s rage when he discovered that she had gone to the Grecian Temple alone.

The journey back to town in the Duke’s well sprung carriage passed quickly, and it seemed to Alexandra that in no time at all he was helping her out of the curricle and escorting her inside Beauchamp House. Lady Beauchamp, who had been waiting in the Morning Room, rushed into the Hall when she heard the door opening, her face pale. Upon setting eyes on her granddaughter she hurried forward to fling her arms around her, before proceeding to scold Alexandra and fire a dozen questions at her at the same time.

The Duke, noting the presence of curious servants in the Hall, suggested that they repair to the Morning Room. Sir Charles, Amelia and Letitia were seated there, and all of them looked up in concern when the trio entered the room. Closing the door firmly behind him, the Duke walked over to the mantlepiece, and stood staring down at the fire smouldering in the grate, only looking up when Alexandra had seated herself nervously beside her grandmother.

The Duke was about to speak when Amelia stood up and, shaking out her skirts, said firmly, “I think that we will take our leave of you now, Lady Beauchamp. I am happy that we have been able keep you company while you awaited your granddaughter’s return, but you must desire a few words alone with Miss Grantham, now. Letty, take your leave of Lady Beauchamp before we depart,” she ordered quietly.

Letitia, who had hoped to remain at Beauchamp House in order to hear the full story of Alexandra’s mysterious disappearance tonight, gave a deep sigh, but she knew when her cousin was adamant, so she obediently stood up and said goodbye to Lady Beauchamp. Before leaving, however, she ran impulsively over to Alexandra and embraced her, before returning to her cousin’s side again. Sir Charles smiled sympathetically at Alexandra, then bowed to the assembled company and escorted Amelia and Letitia outside. Alexandra’s eyes followed her friends out of the room, and it was only when the door had closed behind them that she reluctantly turned her attention back to the two remaining people in the room.

Lady Beauchamp spoke first: “My dear child, whatever happened? Emily told me some story about threatening letters and a plot to murder John after you disappeared, but when I tried to question her more closely about it, she became quite hysterical and took to her bed on arriving home.”

“Mr Ponsonby abducted me, Grandmama,” Alexandra said wearily. “He wanted to carry me across the border to Gretna Green and force me to marry him.”

Alexandra rummaged in her reticule and removed from it the two, now rather crumpled letters that Mr Ponsonby had sent her. She handed them over to her grandmother who paled alarmingly as her eyes skimmed over the menacing words. With a shuddering sigh she handed the letters over to the Duke. After he had perused the letters, he looked up and said harshly, “You little fool! Why did you not come to me with these?”

“You left the morning the first letter arrived, your grace,” Alexandra said in a small voice. “You have read the letters. John’s life was in danger and...”

“And you foolishly believed that you could solve the matter on your own. You stubborn, headstrong girl! You should at least have told your grandmother about the letters.” The Duke shook his head in disbelief, then continued, “You actually went alone to that Grecian Temple, Alexandra, with no possible means of defending yourself! I would have credited you with more intelligence than to walk blindly into what was obviously a carefully laid trap on Ponsonby’s part.”

Alexandra flushed and said a trifle touchily, “I was
not
defenceless, your grace. I took my pistol along with me!”

“Your pistol!” Lady Beauchamp interpolated. “What
are
you talking about Alexandra? Surely you do not own a pistol, of all things?”

Alexandra looked guiltily away. “Papa gave me one for my eighteenth birthday, Grandmama. I did not tell you because I thought you may disapprove...”

“I
do
disapprove, Alexandra!” Lady Beauchamp said. “Your Papa always was an eccentric man, but to give you a pistol of your own. Well! I find it difficult to believe!”

“I am a good shot, Grandmama,” Alexandra said defensively.

“Well, young ladies should not own pistols, my dear. It is not at all the thing! Besides,” she continued, “Mr Ponsonby managed to abduct you in spite of your superior marksmanship, Alexandra.”

Alexandra bit her lip. “Unfortunately I was overpowered from behind, and the pistol was knocked from my hand.”

The Duke stared at Alexandra in amazement. Even though he was angry with her for her ridiculously obstinate independence, he could not help but admire her spirit. Most ladies of his acquaintance would have quailed at the very idea of taking on an adversary alone. But Alexandra hadn’t. With an indomitable courage she had confronted the challenges facing her.

Lady Beauchamp sighed deeply, then stood up. “My dear — I am quite worn out. I think that it is about time that I retired for the night. I think that you should also retire to bed, Alexandra. You have had something of a shock. We shall discuss this matter further in the morning. Good night, my dear. And Robert — thank you for your kind services in rescuing Alexandra. We shall be forever in your debt.” Lady Beauchamp nodded her head, and began to make her way to the door.

The Duke escorted Lady Beauchamp out of the room, and accompanied her to the foot of the staircase, where he said quietly, “Your thanks are quite unnecessary, Lady Beauchamp. I have always regarded your granddaughter as being under my protection.” He looked intently at her. “I would be obliged to you, ma’am, if you would grant me a few moments alone with Alexandra, now. I have something of a particular nature that I wish to ask her.”

“And it’s about time to, Stanford!’ Lady Beauchamp said sternly. “You should have asked her to marry you ages ago!”

The Duke merely smiled and bowed, before turning away. Catching sight of Leighton, who was hovering in the hallway, he instructed the butler to bring two glasses and a bottle of brandy to the Morning Room, then walked back inside and closed the door behind him.

Alexandra glanced up as he entered the room again and said, with a puzzled look on her face, “Your grace, how did you discover that I had been abducted from Vauxhall Gardens?”

The Duke moved over to the chaise-longue where Alexandra was seated and, possessing himself of her hands, drew her to her feet so that she was standing directly in front of him. Looking down into her lovely face, he explained briefly, “I arrived back in London this evening, and was informed when I called at Beauchamp House that you were spending the evening at Vauxhall Gardens. I did not wish to wait until tomorrow to see you, my dear, so I went straight there, and joined up with your party, only to be told that you had disappeared. Emily made some mention of threatening letters, before becoming hysterical, and then my tiger, Jimmy, arrived on the scene and told me that you had been abducted. I had made plans to leave Vauxhall after seeing you and go on to White’s, and had instructed Jimmy to drive my curricle to the land-entrance and to await me there. He had parked my curricle directly behind Ponsonby’s travelling coach, and saw you being thrust into it. Fortunately he recognised you — I think that your distinctive hair colour had something to do with that, my dear.” The Duke smiled, before continuing, “He had heard Ponsonby’s coachman and groom discussing earlier that they were bound for Gretna Green, and putting two and two together — there is nothing sharper than a cockney brain, you know — he hurried off to find me. Unfortunately, he took a while to locate our party, but when he did, he told me all that he had seen and heard, and I came
ventre à terre
to your rescue in the time honoured way.”