An Unsuitable Match (24 page)

The room was filled with morning light when David woke from his deep slumber. He stretched his fingers out over his head and to his surprise, his hand did not touch the familiar wooden headboard of his bed.

Confused, he opened his eyes and looked around the room. Then he remembered where he was and softly chuckled. He was in a bedroom at Langham Hall, Norfolk. Home for the past three hundred years to the Langham family.

Clarice's home.

He rolled over and stared at the door, imagining for a moment how good it would feel to see her come walking through the door. She would be clad in a nightgown of such diaphanous fabric that his imagination would not be required. She would come to his bed and gladly give all that he demanded of her.

Last night Clarice had declared her love for him. Once more he found himself grinning like a fool. ‘She loves me,' he said and shook his head in disbelief.

A tap at the door stirred him from his pleasurable musing.

‘A moment, if you will,' he called out. He quickly pushed all thought of Clarice's naked form from his mind in an attempt to soften his now rock-hard body.

His valet entered the room a short time later carrying David's travel bag. Upon seeing David, a look of immense relief appeared on Bailey's face.

‘Good to see you are awake, Mr Radley. I take it you had an uneventful ride here last night?'

A wry smile formed on David's lips.

Bailey had begged him not to ride out into the storm. He had pleaded the hardship he would endure when he was forced to tell the Duke of Strathmore that his eldest son had died alone on the road. Probably in a rain-swollen ditch, he had added for dramatic effect. His heartfelt pleas had all been for naught. As soon as David had been able to find a calm enough mount, one that would not turn skittish on the road, he leapt on its back and headed to Langham Hall.

‘I hope you stayed close to the fire last night, but I trust not too close to the innkeeper's daughter,' David said.

Did the man just blush?

Bailey muttered a response, but seeing the look on David's face, he smiled. David climbed out of bed.

‘A quick shave and wash this morning; I want us to be on the road shortly after breakfast,' he said.

‘London, sir?' Bailey replied.

‘Sharnbrook, Mr Bailey; I thought you would have more faith in me than that,' he replied and gave his valet a slap on the back.

‘Very good, sir,' Bailey replied.

Over breakfast David shared his plans with Clarice and Lady Alice. The dowager countess sat quietly listening and then voiced her agreement. A slow orderly journey westwards, stopping only at the best of the roadside establishments. Nothing to draw attention to themselves.

Clarice sat silently at the table. Wiping her mouth with her napkin, she rose from the table. David stood and bowed. He caught the look in her eye and his brow creased.

‘You are not happy with the arrangements?' he asked.

She lay the napkin down on the table and shrugged her shoulders.

‘I don't know; I just thought I would have more time. Excuse me, I have to check that my wardrobe is ready for our departure.'

In her bedroom Clarice stared at her travel trunks. How could she leave Langham Hall without telling David the truth of her past?

Lady Alice tapped on the door.

Clarice sighed and picked up her coat. She thrust one arm into a sleeve before Lady Alice entered and took hold of her arm.

‘Pouting and sighing will never get you anywhere, especially not with a man such as David Radley. Now, what is the matter?'

‘I thought I would have more time to decide exactly what to tell him,' Clarice replied.

Her grandmother brushed a gentle hand against Clarice's cheek. ‘You tell him the truth if you want your marriage to be one based on love and honesty. Men are not mind readers; they do not respond to wishes or subtle hints. My advice is that if you are not prepared to be completely honest with him, then the best thing for us to do is to return to London. You have to be able to trust your future husband.'

Clarice finished putting on her coat and wrapped a warm scarf around her neck. All it took was a moment of Lady Alice's counsel and the clarity she so badly sought came to her.

‘I shall speak to David before we leave, but first things first: we need to be rid of Thaxter Fox.'

As soon as David reached the floor where Thaxter Fox had been sleeping, he knew their prisoner was awake.

The two estate workers who had spent the night keeping guard were sitting facing the door.

Bang! Bang!

The bedroom door rattled on its hinges and the two men exchanged an appreciative chuckle. ‘You would think his fists would be bloodied and sore by now,' one of them remarked.

As David approached the door banged once again.

‘I would say that was more like a hip and shoulder,' he remarked. He stopped outside the door, lay an ear to it and listened. At the next attack on the door, he lifted his head away and nodded.

‘Yes, definitely hip and shoulder, with a string of foul words added for good measure.'

He went back downstairs and located the driver and his mate from Thaxter's carriage. After a brief discussion with them, David decided they were trustworthy enough to ensure that their master was returned to London.

The third member of Fox's travel party, his supposed man of business, was a small weasel-like creature, whom David took an instant dislike to as soon as he opened his mouth.

‘I ain't wiv them; and I don't work for that tosspot you've got locked up in his room. I'm here on me master's business,' he said with a sneer.

‘And what exactly is your master's business? David replied.

‘Money. Your Mr Fox owes a lot of people some serious blunt. He promised if I came to Norfolk wiv him he would get us our money. So far I ain't seen a blasted penny.'

Deciding Thaxter's cash problems were his own affair, David left the debt collector with the carriage. He then assembled a number of able-bodied male servants, who accompanied David back into the house and upstairs.

Having thought long and hard as to how the feat was to be accomplished, David decided the direct approach was the best. He strode to the door and knocked loudly on it. ‘Mr Fox, your carriage awaits.'

‘Open this bloody door!' Thaxter bellowed from the other side.

David looked to the men and nodded. ‘We are going to have to open the door if we are to be rid of Mr Fox.'

He turned back to the door. ‘You may wish to take a step back, Mr Fox. The chap I have given my pistol to looks a mite nervous and I am afraid if you scare him, he may just put a bullet in you. If he does Cook will need to perform the surgery.'

The unarmed men looked at one another and grinned. Cook really had made a mess of the stitches on Thaxter Fox's face.

‘All right,' came the reply from the bedroom.

Taking the key he had retrieved from Lady Alice, David stepped up to the door and unlocked it.

‘Ready, gentlemen?' he said as he swung the door open.

Standing in the middle of the room, Thaxter looked quickly at David and then past him into the hall.

‘There are five of us, Fox, and several more at the top of the stairs. I personally don't think even a man like you would chance it.'

‘I wondered how long it would take for you to come in search of your little whore,' Thaxter spat back.

The staff muttered their disapproval at the daughter of the house being referred to in such a manner, but David held up his hand. They fell silent.

‘Gentlemen, never allow an unworthy opponent to raise your ire. You are only playing into his hands.'

He stood to one side of the door and beckoned for Thaxter to exit the room. ‘Shall we?'

‘It would appear I have little choice in the matter. Have my man bring my bag down to the carriage,' Thaxter replied.

He walked from the room and with two men in front and two behind, descended the stairs. David lingered for a moment in the room and picked up the travel bag.

A very heavy travel bag.

He put the bag on the bed, opened it and shook his head in disgust as he removed a folded jacket to reveal several large pieces of silverware that Thaxter had clearly intended to steal from the house. David tipped up the bag and emptied its contents on to the bed, then closed it and hurried from the room with the empty bag.

By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, Clarice and Lady Alice had joined the party in the front entrance.

‘I just want to make sure Mr Fox is sent safely on his way,' Lady Alice said.

David threw the empty travel bag at Thaxter. ‘You certainly travel light,' he said.

The look he received in return put a spring in his step for the rest of the day.

It was only when they were out in front of the Hall and close to the carriage that Thaxter finally allowed his displeasure at being forced to leave known.

David had taken his gaze from his prisoner for only a second when Thaxter made his move. Without warning he let out a roar and lunged violently towards Clarice, fists flying. Fortunately, she was further away then he realised and David was able to put his body between them before Thaxter could reach her.

He smashed a fist into Thaxter's face without restraint. Thaxter fell backwards, sprawled on the ground, his hands held to his bloodied face.

Clarice raced to a spot several feet away and picked up a small object. Returning to David's side, she handed it to him.

‘This was in his hand; what is it?' she said.

He looked down at the small sharp blade and knew exactly what it was. It matched the wound he had received at the boxing saloon.

The click of a pistol caught his attention.

Lady Alice stood pointing a pistol at Thaxter as he struggled to his knees.

‘I shall put you out in the street the day I inherit the title, you old hag,' he said, and spat blood at her feet. Clutching one of the wheels of the travel coach, he dragged himself upright.

The dowager countess snorted. ‘Perhaps I should just shoot you here and now and save us both a lot of trouble. I have lived at the Hall for over forty years and I doubt if the local magistrate could find a single man among these good people who would bear witness to my crime.'

David strode over to Lady Alice and held out his hand. She let down the cock of the pistol and handed it to him. She shrugged her shoulders.

‘Well, it would have solved a lot of our problems. His younger brother is a war hero; I expect he would make a better heir.'

David shook his head. No-one would be committing murder on his watch.

‘I think it is time for you to leave, Mr Fox,' he said.

‘Oi! Where is my money?' the weasel man cried. He picked up Thaxter's empty travel bag and waved it in his face.

‘I don't have it,' Thaxter bit back.

For a small man the debt collector packed a powerful punch. For the second time in a matter of minutes Thaxter found himself on his knees in the gravel of the driveway. When the man produced a horsewhip and looked set to lash his hapless debtor, David stepped forward.

‘Enough! Take your business with this gentleman elsewhere.'

‘On yer feet, Fox. You have until we get back to London to come up with the money you owe. After that . . .'

He brandished the horsewhip toward David and smiled tightly. Thaxter Fox was in for a very long and unpleasant journey back to London.

They watched as the coach headed down the long driveway and disappeared over the hill. Lady Alice, having retrieved her pistol, went back inside to check on their travel arrangements. David turned to Clarice and took her hand.

‘Are you ready to leave? You did seem out of sorts at breakfast.'

She shook her head. Once she got into the coach, there would be no time to talk privately with him. To tell him the truth.

‘I need to talk to you,' she replied.

He nodded.

She led him across the drive and up the small path leading toward the dell. With her heart pounding as loud as a cannon in her ears, she struggled to hold back her tears.

‘Where are we going?' he asked, glancing back at where they had come. ‘Whatever you need to tell me, we are well and truly out of anyone's earshot.'

She continued walking. ‘Only a little way further.' If things ended badly between them, the familiar surrounds of the churchyard would at least give her some comfort.

When they arrived in front of the small stone chapel, Clarice released David's hand and walked over to her mother's grave.

Mama, I have to do this. I have to tell him. I cannot offer him only half my heart.

David came to her side and brushed a tender kiss on her cheek. He looked at the headstone and sighed.

‘She was a lovely woman, your mother. She was always kind to me,' he said.

Clarice nodded and took a step back; she couldn't bear for him to be this near. The scent of his cologne enticed her to say nothing, to let things be. To claim him with a lie.

‘If you decide that you no longer wish to marry me after what I say, I shall understand. It would be easy enough for me not to tell you the truth and to go on with our plans, but I couldn't do that to you. You have bared your soul to me; now it is my turn. The only thing I ask is that you keep this secret between us, that you never speak of it to anyone. And I mean anyone.'

She watched him as he silently studied her.

‘If you were unable to fight that rogue off, if he did force himself upon you, I shall still marry you,' he replied. In his eyes the truth of his conviction shone.

You don't deserve this pain.

She shook her head and with hands clasped together, turned to face the headstone.

‘Elizabeth Langham was my mother, but as for my sire, he is
not
Henry Langham,' she said.

The wind rustled the grass and the nearby ash tree cracked as it moved in the breeze. A shadow passed over the grass as David came between her and the sun.