Regency Romance Collection From Christina Courtenay (20 page)

‘Admit it. You want me to kill this wife for you as well. Tired of her already, are you? Your infatuations never last long.’

‘Why, you whoreson, I’ll …’

There came the sound of a scuffle, and one of the excise men began to speak instead. ‘You are surrounded and you cannot possibly hope to gain any advantage by killing a lady. Give her up and let us come to some agreement. I’m coming aboard.’

‘No, absolutely not! We are leaving now and if you try to stop us, Lady Wyckeham dies. That’s all there is to it.’

Ianthe felt her last hope of rescue fade away, but then she realised that if Jason and the others couldn’t help her, then it was up to her to do something. Now they were so close, surely they would be able to save her from drowning if she tried to swim for it? She decided she had nothing to lose by trying. If she stayed, she would die anyway, or suffer a fate worse than death.

Taking Gervaise by surprise, she turned suddenly and headbutted him square on the nose, exactly the way her brothers had taught her in the manner of the famous pugilists they admired so. There was a satisfyingly crunching noise and a yelp of agony from Gervaise, who let go of Ianthe for a moment to clutch his nose. Her forehead hurt too, but she ignored this and scrambled over the railing in a flash. As she jumped, she shouted loudly, ‘Get me out of the water, Jason,
now
!’

In the next instant, the freezing cold sea closed over her head and she went rigid with shock before she remembered she needed to kick out hard in order to return to the surface. It seemed an age before she emerged, coughing and spluttering, but by then she was able to move properly again and she began to swim with a sort of doggy paddle motion. Her skirts were heavy, and the spencer didn’t help either, but with a lot of effort she managed to stay afloat.

‘
Ianthe?
Where are you?’

She heard Jason, and called out. ‘Over here. Hurry, please!’ She was tiring fast and the water seemed intent on dragging her down.

Just when she thought she would be unable to keep afloat for a moment longer, a row boat came into view and hands stretched down to pull her out of the sea. Someone wrapped her in a rough blanket, and then she was in Jason’s arms.

‘Ianthe, my love, are you all right? Did he hurt you?’

‘N-no, I’m f-fine.’ She was shivering uncontrollably and her teeth were chattering so much it was difficult to speak. ‘Th-thank you for coming to m-my rescue.’

‘You did it all yourself. I was at my wit’s end. That was very brave of you, if a bit foolhardy perhaps, but I’m not complaining.’

He was holding her tight, stroking her back and kissing her temple, her cheek, her nose. She turned her face up and received a proper kiss, an infinitely more satisfying one which seemed to go on forever. She returned it measure for measure. This warmed her right down to her toes and the shivering lessened.

‘I couldn’t have jumped without knowing you were there, though. I knew my skirts were too heavy so I would never have made it to shore. I thought about it earlier, but decided I couldn’t risk it.’

‘No, I realise that. Well, the main thing is that you are safe.’

The sound of gunfire could now be heard from all around them and Ianthe tried to peer through the darkness. ‘What is happening?’

‘I think Gervaise and his men will find themselves either captive or shot very soon,’ Jason said grimly. ‘Now you are no longer on board, the excise men are able to attack without fear of hurting you. Don’t think about it any more, we must get you home and into a hot bath. Being frozen twice in as many days cannot be good for you.’

She snuggled up to him, not feeling particularly cold at the moment. ‘I’ll be all right,’ she murmured.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Some time later, she was back in her bed, bathed and warmed both by blankets and by a medicinal glass of brandy. Jason came in and dismissed the maids, seating himself on the edge of her bed once more.

‘I seem to be forever perching here,’ he said wryly. ‘Perhaps one of these days you’ll stop getting into scrapes so we can have a conversation elsewhere.’

‘I’ll do my best not to be abducted by anyone for a while.’ She smiled at him. ‘Thank you again for coming to find me. It was lucky you overheard Gervaise’s plans.’

‘Indeed. The alternative doesn’t bear thinking of.’ He put out a hand to stroke her cheek. ‘You do know you are very precious to me, don’t you? I was devastated at the thought that I might have lost you.’

‘I … I’m glad to hear it. I was distraught myself when I thought I may never see you again.’

‘Does that mean you might come to love me eventually, do you think?’

Ianthe blinked and blurted out, ‘Of course. I mean, I already do.’ She felt her cheeks catch fire as she realised what she’d said. ‘But please don’t feel you have to reciprocate. I … I know you only married me because you need an heir and …’

‘Ianthe, you goose, how could you possibly think that? I’ve adored you from the moment I set eyes on you at Almack’s.’

‘What? But you can’t have done.’

‘Oh, yes I can. And I do. I only wish you were well enough so I could prove it to you.’

Ianthe smiled, her heart doing little somersaults of happiness inside her chest. ‘I’m absolutely fine and I order you to prove it immediately. You did say I was allowed to rule the roost in this house, did you not?’

He nodded with a grin. ‘Within reason, of course, and as long as I agree with your decisions.’

‘Well, then, you’re not leaving this room until I’m entirely satisfied that you love me as much as I love you.’

He chuckled and pulled her into his embrace. ‘It would seem I’ve found myself a managing sort of wife, but I think that is one order I’ll happily comply with. Anything else?’

‘No, Jason.’ She sighed happily. ‘Now I have absolutely everything I wished for.’

‘As do I, my love.’

Desperate Remedies

Christina Courtenay

Copyright © 2013 Christina Courtenay

Published 2013 by Choc Lit Limited

Penrose House, Crawley Drive, Camberley, Surrey GU15 2AB, UK

www.choc-lit.com

The right of Christina Courtenay to be identified as the Author of this Work has
 been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the
 public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher or a licence permitting restricted copying. In the UK such licences are issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency, 90
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ISBN-978-1-78189-145-2

PROLOGUE

1816

It was most definitely the wedding of the season, although not for the right reasons, that was for certain.

St George’s in Hanover Square was filled to overflowing with most of the members of the
ton
and as many of its hangers-on as could squeeze themselves in. Lexie Holloway found herself boxed in between her mother and a fat elderly matron who had a turban balanced precariously on top of her head. It was adorned with a huge ostrich feather, which kept waving in Lexie’s direction. It annoyed her as it tickled either her cheek or her ear, but she couldn’t ask the lady to move since there was nowhere for her to go.

Lexie wished herself anywhere on earth but here. Not because she minded being cooped up like this, but because she didn’t want to see this particular marriage take place. She knew that when the Earl of Synley took his marriage oath, her heart would shatter into a thousand fragments that could never again be rejoined. He was the only man she would ever love.

‘Piffle,’ her mother would have said scornfully, if Lexie had ever dared to confess to such a thing. Lady Holloway didn’t believe in love, only marriages of convenience that allowed both parties to gain something. Which was probably why she hadn’t been as shocked as everyone else when Synley’s engagement had been announced in the
Gazette
.

‘Dear Lord, he’s marrying a woman old enough to be his mother!’ Sir Gerald, Lexie’s father, had exclaimed over breakfast on that fateful day. ‘In fact, I seem to recall she was his mother’s best friend and, if I’m not mistaken, she came out at the same time as my sister some twenty years ago. Preposterous, I say.’

Lady Holloway grabbed the paper from him and perused the announcement with a nod. ‘Hmm, yes, to be sure she’s a bit long in the tooth, but look what he stands to gain from it. An entire estate that abuts his own and lots of money besides. That’s worth sacrificing yourself for, don’t you think?’

‘Surely he could have found himself a young heiress?’ Sir Gerald protested.

‘You know very well no parent in his right mind would allow him within a mile of their daughter. He hasn’t a feather to fly with and his reputation, well!’ Lady Holloway shuddered delicately. ‘Depend upon it, he’s done the only thing he can in the circumstances. It’s either this or debtor’s prison.’

Neither of them had noticed that their younger daughter had gone very quiet and was no longer eating her breakfast. Lexie had never told a soul that she was in love with Synley – it wouldn’t have done her any good if she had – so they had no reason to suspect anything when she excused herself from the table claiming a headache.

Now here she sat, waiting to watch Synley marry his mother’s erstwhile friend, Lady Catherine Downes. It was indeed preposterous, and Lexie could only wonder how desperate a man had to be in order to contemplate such a thing. He was making himself a laughing-stock, but judging by his calm demeanour as he waited by the altar, he didn’t give a damn what anyone thought.

He turned and surveyed the crowd, as if daring them to say something disparaging. She thought his gaze stopped for an instant as it rested on her, with a fleeting look of regret, but it was over so quickly, she probably imagined it. After all, they barely knew one another.

She turned to watch the bride walk down the aisle, resplendent in silk and lace, both of a silvery hue. Lady Catherine didn’t look bad for her age, but she was no beauty and never had been. She came to a halt next to her husband-to-be and smiled up at him with what looked like genuine affection. Lexie thought she also glimpsed relief and perhaps gratitude in Lady Catherine’s eyes and Synley returned her smile without hesitation. As the bride put her hand on his arm, he covered it with his own and gave it a squeeze. It was almost as though he was reassuring her that they were doing the right thing. Lexie could only assume they were both happy with their bargain and she had to swallow down a lump that rose in her throat.

As the service began, however, she couldn’t help but wonder why Lady Catherine had agreed to such a sham of a marriage. She supposed she must have her reasons. Perhaps she had simply been bowled over by the attention of a much younger, sinfully handsome, man? Or she had been bamboozled? Either way, Lexie envied her because she was the lucky lady who would leave this church as Synley’s wife.

How I wish it were me!

She tried to erase that thought from her mind, shutting her eyes tightly in order to prevent the feelings of jealousy from choking her. Stop it, she told herself sternly. He was never yours, and never will be. It was time to stop daydreaming and enter reality.

But she would never forget the day her heart broke.

CHAPTER ONE

1820

The English weather was never at its best in April, but having spent the last three years in Italy, Lexie had no complaints. She positively welcomed the chill wind and had it been permitted, she would have asked to ride up front with the coachman, just for the sheer joy of feeling soft rain on her face once more. After the dry heat of Naples, she was certain it would do her complexion the world of good. Still, there would be time enough, no doubt, to make that particular wish come true during the months ahead.

Her destination, Hawthorne Manor, was a rambling Elizabethan building, which looked as though the various members of the Hawthorne family had just added on a room whenever they needed extra space. There was no symmetry whatsoever, and to Lexie this was part of its charm. To everyone else, it was a nuisance.

             
‘You’ve no idea how the servants complain about the endless twists and turns in the corridors, not to mention all the unexpected little steps up and down the various parts of the house,’ her sister Margaret had told her last time she visited, making a face which clearly showed that she agreed. ‘It is most vexatious, I tell you. Not to mention the fact that the kitchen is situated positively
miles
from the dining room and so the food is invariably cold before it even reaches us. Puts George quite out of humour.’

Since most everything put Margaret’s husband in a bad mood, this didn’t surprise Lexie, and she could even empathise with her sister to a certain degree. However, having the privilege of living in such a house would far outweigh the inconveniences in her opinion. Had she been lucky enough to have a husband with an estate like Hawthorne Manor, she would never have complained.

Sadly she had no husband of any kind, although admittedly, that was her own fault.

‘I wash my hands of you,’ her father told her at the end of her one and only London season. ‘I’ve done my best and you’ve not taken advantage of the opportunities you’ve been afforded. Now you may endeavour to support yourself, for I shall no longer do so.’

There had been no less than three offers of marriage, which was gratifying in a way, but she had turned them all down. She didn’t want to be a brood-mare stuck in a loveless marriage and had decided she would rather live her life alone. Or as alone as any female could be in this day and age.

Her father hadn’t really meant his harsh words and Lexie knew he would never cast her out entirely, but she had felt herself to be a burden nonetheless. She had therefore set about finding employment as a lady’s companion. She couldn’t have wished for a better employer than kind Lady Belvedere, who had treated her more as a daughter than a servant and had taken her off to the continent. Sadly, the old woman had now passed away and Lexie had been forced to return to England, where matters had changed somewhat.

Her parents had both died in a carriage accident and Sir Gerald’s place, as head of the family, had been filled by her brother John, now Sir John, although Lexie refused to address him thus.

‘You may have twisted Father round your little finger, Alexandra, but don’t think you can do so with me,’ he told her almost immediately upon her arrival home. ‘I have my own family to think of and I am sorry to say there is no place for you here at Holloway Park. You have the small annuity Father bequeathed to you, but I doubt you can live on that. However, I believe Margaret may have use for you, and I’ve informed her that she is to expect you within the next few days.’

His pompous manner grated on Lexie, as did his insistence on calling her by her full name. No one else ever did.

‘I see. Am I not to be consulted about such an arrangement?’ she enquired, trying hard to hold her temper in check. She had earned her own keep now for years and had neither expected nor wanted to live off her brother’s charity. ‘What if I have found another position to supplement my income?’

John frowned. ‘Well, if you have, it’s a deuced nuisance. It’s your duty to help your family in the first instance, and Margaret has been nagging at me for ages to provide her with assistance.’

Lexie thought to herself that Margaret had probably meant the financial kind, since her husband was forever in debt due to excessive gaming. But John either didn’t want to acknowledge this or he was being obtuse. He also, clearly, couldn’t see the contradiction in his words. She was expected to help her family, while he refused to do so. She stifled a sigh.

‘As it happens, I haven’t yet looked for one. I shall be happy to assist Margaret for a short while, but do not suppose that it’s a permanent arrangement, John. I am no one’s chattel to be ordered about. Do you understand me?’

She fixed him with a glare and he had the grace to flush, but he blustered something placating and she said no more. What was the use, after all? He would never change.

As the carriage neared its destination now, she became aware of the sound of rapid hoof beats and looked out the window. The maid who had been sent to accompany her was fast asleep and nothing seemed to wake her. Lexie was able to crane her neck in a very unladylike fashion to see what was happening. The coachman pulled hard on the reins in order to avoid a rider who came shooting out of a copse of trees to their right and crossed the road in front of them. He flashed by in a blur, jumping a ditch with an elegance that hardly broke the horse’s stride, but Lexie didn’t notice. She saw nothing except the man himself.

‘Synley,’ she whispered. What on earth was he doing here? Then she remembered that his estate was not that far from Hawthorne Manor. She could only assume she was passing through his land at the moment.

An instant later, he had returned, his skittish horse prancing alongside the carriage. Lexie pulled back from the window, so he wouldn’t catch her gawping, but she could still see him clearly. He didn’t appear to have changed much, although his expression was much sterner than she remembered it.

‘I apologise for startling you, er, ma’am?’ he said, bowing in her general direction. Lexie knew he couldn’t quite see her since her face was in the shadowy interior of the carriage. ‘It was not my intention. I’m afraid this horse is still a bit unruly and something spooked him.’

‘You are forgiven, sir,’ Lexie murmured, although she heard the coachman grumble something about ‘wild young men’. ‘I am sure you did not ride that way on purpose.’

‘No, indeed. I shall endeavour to control this beast better in future. You are certain no harm has come to you?’

‘Thank you, I’m very well and so is my maid.’

‘I will trouble you no more then. Good day to you, ma’am.’

He took off at a slower pace, affording Lexie an excellent view of his broad back and shoulders, clad in a perfectly fitting green coat. The sight of him stirred up memories she had kept suppressed for so long. The painful day of his marriage, the weeks of heartbreak she had suffered in silence afterwards. She had thought these the silly fancies of a young girl, fresh out of the schoolroom, but now she wasn’t so sure. Just one look at his face had made her entire body tremble.

She took a deep breath. ‘This won’t do,’ she admonished herself. He had no doubt forgotten about their one and only encounter long since and she ought to follow suit. Nothing good could come of dwelling on it.

Synley and her infatuation with him were in the past, where they belonged, and she would make sure they stayed there.

‘Lexie, my dear, you’re here at last.’ Margaret greeted her from her position, lying down on a chaise longue in her private sitting room. Lexie was forced to bend over to give her a sisterly peck on the cheek.

‘Indeed I am. I trust I find you well?’ Lexie glanced at her sister’s recumbent form with raised eyebrows and took in the jumble of glasses, vials and smelling salts on the table next to her.

‘Oh, yes, don’t mind me. Just a little fatigued, you know. There was a card party last night at the Stalbridge’s and they must needs practise economy by serving the most awful wine. I swear, it was pure vinegar, but one has to be polite of course, so what could I do but drink it? Now I’m suffering for my kindness.’

Lexie didn’t believe a word of this tale, but forbore to say so. Margaret and her husband always drank to excess and it would seem this was still the case. Well, if her sister had a sore head, she deserved it.

‘So what is it you want my help with?’ Lexie removed her bonnet and sat down on a chair near the fire. ‘I understand from John that you are in dire need of my services.’

‘Well, as to that, he does tend to exaggerate, as you know. The fact of the matter is that dear little Rupert’s governess left without so much as a by your leave and I simply cannot find anyone suitable to replace her. I thought perhaps you ...?’ Margaret turned her limpid gaze on her sister, no doubt hoping for sympathy.

‘Pah!’ Lexie said. ‘You mean the little brat frightened her away and no one else wants to take him on?’

‘Really, Lexie, there is no need to be rude. Rupert is merely, shall we say, high-spirited. It’s not his fault if these women are so sensitive.’

‘Well, have you thought of hiring a tutor for him instead? Perhaps it is a man’s authority that is needed here.’

‘Oh, but he’s so young still. I don’t want him treated severely and they can be so mean, some of them. One simply cannot trust them to be fair.’

‘He’s eight, Margaret.’

‘A mere baby.’ Margaret sighed. ‘You wouldn’t understand, not being a mother yourself, but I do worry so and he’s my only chick as you know.’

Lexie thought to herself that she understood only too well, despite not having children of her own. A little severity was exactly what young Rupert needed, but Margaret had always spoiled him and she knew she would never win this particular argument.

‘I don’t know, Margaret. I’m not sure I’m qualified to be a governess. I’ve been working as a lady’s companion, which is vastly different. Rupert should have someone who knows what they’re doing and has experience of that sort of thing. Besides, I’m only visiting for a short while.’

‘You’ve only just arrived and you’re contemplating leaving already?’ Margaret’s face took on a wounded expression.

‘Not immediately, no, of course not, but surely you need to find someone who can stay longer to teach Rupert? I dare say continuity is what he needs with a governess or tutor he trusts.’

‘But that’s the problem exactly – I cannot find any such paragon,’ Margaret squeezed out a tear, although Lexie doubted it was genuine.

She sighed. ‘Very well, I’ll take him on for a few weeks, but I’m not staying above two months. I will need to find proper employment by then, else I’ll be penniless.’

‘As to that, I’m sure dear George will pay you the going rate.’

Yes, and pigs might fly
. George never paid anyone, as Margaret well knew, which was probably another reason why she was having trouble keeping her staff. And Lexie refused to be their unpaid labour any more than the recent governesses had. Family or not, she too needed to earn a wage. She couldn’t help but worry about her future. Being an unmarried spinster by choice was all very well, but she would have to save up enough to live on when her years as a paid companion came to an end. It wasn’t something she could do forever, especially as most employers would prefer someone young and energetic to run their errands.

This was not the time to worry about such things, however. As Margaret had pointed out, she’d only just arrived and she intended to enjoy her stay, despite her governess duties.

‘I had better go and say hello to my charge then,’ Lexie said and stood up. ‘Just as well to let him know what’s coming.’ She smiled at the alarm that flared in Margaret’s eyes.

‘You will be kind, won’t you? He seemed to enjoy your company last time you visited, although that was when he was very young.’

‘Yes, of course. I’m only joking. You may depend on it.’

But I’ll also make sure he knows who is in charge
.