The Keys of Love (17 page)

The coach driver in oilskins against the inclement weather, a hat low on his forehead, growled a greeting and held open the door.

He gave a hand to Nanny, who climbed in first and then he aided Henrietta. She did not look at him as she stepped up. He closed the door firmly behind her.

Barely had she settled herself when a familiar voice from the darkness outside stopped her heart.

“What is happening? Who ordered this coach?”

The coachman answered in a low voice,

“Why, the two ladies within.”

The Duke wrenched open the door.

“Mrs. Poody and Miss Reed!” he exclaimed.

Henrietta shrank back from his stunned gaze.

“What are you fleeing my hospitality?”

Henrietta, her heart in her mouth, could not speak. She merely gave a frightened nod.

The Duke's eyes narrowed.

He turned to Nanny.

“Mrs. Poody, perhaps
you
will be so kind as to tell me what is going on?”

Nanny threw up her hands.

“I can't. I know nothing. I'm that put out by it all, but I must do as Hen Miss Reed wishes.”

He turned back to Henrietta, a slow blaze beginning to burn in his eyes.

“Miss Reed explain yourself at once or get out of this carriage immediately,” he said through gritted teeth.

“N-no,” whispered Henrietta.

The Duke reached a hand in and caught her arm.

“By God, you will get out at once and tell me what madness makes you steal away from my home like this.”

She tore herself violently from the Duke's hold. He stepped back, astonished at her vehemence.

“Coachman,” Henrietta cried, “drive on, please.”

The Duke whirled round and raised a hand to the coachman.

“Do not on any account obey, sir. Remember, you answer to me.”

The coachman gave a low chuckle.

“Oh no, Your Grace, tonight I answer to the lady. Tomorrow, though,
she
answers to
me
.”

“What the devil do you mean and who are you?”

The coachman leaped onto his box as he replied,

“I mean that henceforth Miss Reed belongs to me.
Prince Vasily
who is otherwise at your service.”

Before the Duke could respond or Henrietta inside the carriage cry out in dawning horror, the whip whistled through the air and the horses darted forward.

The coach and its occupants spun from the cobbled courtyard and onto the muddied road.

*

“
Harrie! Harrie
!”

Henrietta stirred as a voice murmured in her ear.

“
Harrie
? Wake up!”

Henrietta's eyelids fluttered open and she gazed in amazement and utter relief at the face leaning over her.

“
Kitty
! Oh, Kitty. I am so glad to see you. But what on earth are you doing here?”

“I might well ask you the same thing.”

Henrietta glanced at the gloomy room she found herself in and threw her hands over her face in despair.

How Nanny and she had clutched at each other in terror last night as the coach had hurtled on its way!

She could have wept at her folly. Why had she not waited until the morning to leave Merebury? She might by then have confronted the Duke and demanded a carriage.

She should never have trusted Lady Butterclere.

Nanny had told her, as they lurched on through the dark countryside, that Prince Vasily had been visiting Lady Butterclere's apartments regularly in the last two days.

No doubt Lady Butterclere considered it a coup to engage the services of the Prince in whisking her away in the middle of the night her reputation would be damaged beyond repair once it was known she had gone with him.

The coach had bumped over potholes and lurched through dripping woods, Prince Vasily thrashing the whip like a madman.

He obviously had a goal in mind.

Sure enough, just after midnight, the coach turned in under a decrepit stone arch and drew up outside a meanlooking thatched inn.

Prince Vasily scrambled from the box and opened the carriage door.

“Our lodgings for the night,” he leered.

Gingerly Nanny and Henrietta descended and a fat man with a lantern led them into the inn.

A few twigs spat in the hearth. Nanny sank onto a bench and closed her eyes the latest turn of events had exhausted her old frame utterly.

This inn had been, it seemed, the lodgings of Prince Vasily for the last few days, though he had spent last night at Merebury. The fat man was the landlord.

“No other guest has arrived since I was away, eh?” asked the Prince, looking round warily.

“Just one couple,” shrugged the fat man.

“That I do not like,” frowned the Prince.

“That
I
do not like,” grunted the landlord, pointing at Henrietta and Nanny. “Especially as I've yet to see the colour of your money.”

The Prince thrust Henrietta forward into the light.

“There is the colour of my money,” he cried.

The landlord surveyed Henrietta with interest.

“Kidnapped her, 'ave you?”

“Yes. Yes, he has!” she cried out. “And I demand you fetch the authorities.”

“What, on a night like this? Not me, 'sides, I never come between a man and his paramour.”

“I am
not
his paramour!”

But the landlord had turned away. “Her and the old lady will have to take a room up in

the attic,” he said to the Prince.

“Good,” nodded Prince Vasily.

He stared at Henrietta for just a moment, his tongue running over his upper lip, and then he shrugged,

“Let her remain a maiden one more night! But tomorrow, you will find me a priest, eh, landlord?”

“If it stops raining. Maybe,” he replied.

Holding the lantern high, he gestured to Henrietta and Nanny to follow him.

Henrietta was too frightened by what the Prince had intimated was to be her fate and Nanny too tired to make any protest at the dingy quarters he ushered them into.

They had both fallen asleep exhausted in no time.

“Harrie!” came Kitty's voice suddenly. “You need to listen to me.”

Henrietta woke up and stared at Kitty, who sat on the edge of the bed and in a whisper as Nanny still slept

quickly explained how she herself came to be at the inn.

The orchestra had set out together in their various conveyances, but Kitty and Trescot, travelling at the back, had fallen behind.

The weather became increasingly stormy towards evening and one of the wheels flew off their carriage and they were almost toppled into a ditch.

The driver unhitched the two horses and led Kitty and Trescot to the nearest inhabited abode the inn.

Prince Vasily was not there that evening as he had gone to Merebury and been invited by Lady Butterclere to stay when the weather turned threatening.

They took a room at the inn and their driver rode off to find a wheelwright.

“But you know,” continued Kitty, “we were waiting all day yesterday, with the endless wind and rain, and then we had to spend tonight here too.

“The landlord got very chatty over supper and kept telling us about this foreign Prince who was lodging here, but the idea seemed preposterous. To tell you the truth, we didn't believe him.

“Anyway, we got to bed early, but I was awakened in the early hours by the sound of a coach. I recognised your voice and some instinct made me listen.”

Henrietta's eyes filled with tears.

“Then you heard it all? All that the Prince intends?”

Kitty nodded grimly.

“I heard the rat all right. But don't worry, Harrie. The Prince and that tub of butter the landlord drank a lot of wine and are asleep till doomsday, as far as I can see.

“Trescot crept down to the stable and has harnessed up the coach you arrived in. Your baggage is still on it. It will take us all out of here and he won't be able to follow.”

“Oh, Kitty. How can I ever repay you?”

“There's no time for that kind of talk, until I can get that skunk in front of the authorities ”

Kitty broke off in surprise as Henrietta caught hold of her sleeve.

“No!” whispered Henrietta fervently. “Tell no one.

Promise me. If you do, they will want Miss Reed to appear in court. And that just cannot happen. Please, Kitty, get us to the nearest railway station.”

“I just don't understand, but I'll do what you ask,” sighed Kitty. “Now are you ready?”

Henrietta woke Nanny who was befuddled at first to see Kitty, but soon understood what she must do.

The three now filed carefully along the corridor and down the stairs. The snores of the Prince and the landlord rang from behind closed doors.

Trescot was waiting. He opened the carriage door, the ladies stepped in and he climbed onto the box.

With a jerk of the reins, the coach rumbled away.

Leaning against Nanny, Henrietta hugged her cape joyfully around her.

She would not allow all that had happened with the Duke and with Prince Vasily to sour this moment.

With every hoof beat, each turn of the wheels, she was leaving Miss Reed and her mishaps behind.

Ahead lay her home.

Ahead lay reunion with her dear father.

And ahead lay the most important thing of all.

Reunion with her own true self Henrietta Radford of Lushwood Manor, Hertfordshire.

It was early morning and Henrietta threw open her bedroom window, leaned on the sill and surveyed the dewbright gardens below.

She had been home at Lushwood for two months by now and this was her happiest hour, when she least felt the shadow of recent events hovering over her.

At least she had not set eyes on Prince Vasily again. He could not pursue Henrietta Radford after her return to Society, for he was a wanted man in England.

She supposed he had since shipped himself off to the safety of Europe.

Kitty, now appraised of Miss Reed's true identity by Eddie, had written once.

Eddie's regular pianist had finally arrived for what turned out to be a highly successful tour of England.

She had heard nothing of the Duke, his stepsister or Romany Foss.

There had been much to do at Lushwood and that, plus the return of her father from America, had prevented her from brooding too much on her feelings for the Duke.

“Henrietta?”

Lord Radford appeared, waving a letter at her.

“Lady Bridgely is holding a ball next week and we are both invited to Castle Bridgely!”

Henrietta paled.

Her father knew nothing of her escapade with the Eddie Bragg orchestra. Nanny had sworn never to mention it and had anyway returned to live in her own cottage.

She now hoped that the distance between the Duke and herself would ensure their worlds never collided.

Any invitation, however, was a potential threat.

“Where is Bridgely, Papa? It isn't up North, is it?”

“No, child. It's in Hampshire. Not too far away.”

Lord Radford waited expectantly.

“We must go then, Papa, mustn't we?” she replied reluctantly.

“Excellent!” agreed her father and hurried out.

Henrietta turned again to the window. Two white doves were cooing softly to each other on the sill.

How she wished her own heart might feel as joyous and full of song as theirs.

*

“You have been hiding this treasure away for too long, you naughty man!” Lady Bridgely reprimanded Lord Radford as her scrutiny took in the figure of his daughter.

Henrietta blushed.

She had no idea how bewitching she looked. She just seemed to shimmer in her dress of rose-coloured silk overlain with sequined gauze.

Many heads turned as she and her father now stood conversing in the ballroom with their hostess.

“She will certainly not be short of dancing partners. By the way we have engaged a superb orchestra,” added Lady Bridgely. “They played on
The Boston Queen
.”

“The Eddie Bragg Orchestra is here?”

“Yes.”

“I shall be so very thrilled to see them hear them again,” cried Henrietta.

“They were strongly recommended by my cousin,” explained Lady Bridgley. “You will be pleased to hear, Lord Radford, that my cousin will attend us this evening.”

“Oh, what a delight!” exclaimed Lord Radford.

He smiled at Henrietta as Lady Bridgely made her excuses and moved off to greet other guests.

“Her cousin would often visit us at Lushwood when your grandfather was alive. Why, you danced with him one night in the hallway in your nightdress, too!”

Henrietta was astonished.

“How did you know about that?”

“He told your mother and me!” her father laughed. “Said you had totally enchanted him. How I shall relish introducing the Duke to you again after all these years.”

“H-he is a Duke?” asked Henrietta in a low voice.

“That's right, my dear.
The Duke of Merebury
.”

Henrietta felt faint.

No wonder she had been mysteriously drawn to the Duke when she thought she did not know him.

No wonder she had formed an image of him that had turned out to be uncannily similar to the real man.

Henrietta swallowed.

“Papa I don't want to be introduced to the Duke.”

Lord Radford looked at his daughter in amazement.

“Why on earth not?”

Henrietta cast around desperately for an answer.

“I have heard that he has become a terrible roué.”

“ A
roué
?”

“Y-yes, Papa. He keeps mistresses in his house in M-Manchester Square.”

“Henrietta, who has been spreading this rumour?” “A-a fellow passenger on board
The Boston Queen
.

Lady B-Butterclere.”

“The Duke's stepsister? You have mistaken her, my dear. She must have been referring to the Duke's late grandfather. Now
he
was notorious. But there has never been any such scandal or tittle-tattle attached to the name of the present Duke.”