Page 15 of Escape of the Scoundrel (Escape #1)

H arriet gazed at the closed library door for some time. A piece of her heart seemed to be crumbling.

How had she come to care so much so quickly? She didn’t know, but it had to be important and she could not give up. And yet time was running out. Tomorrow he would be gone, perhaps even at first light, as when he’d left the Duck and Spoon.

Somehow she had to change his mind before then. She wasn’t even sure why. Some of it was certainly so that there was some possibility of seeing him again, but more than that, she sensed it would be bad for him . Through hurt and pride and sheer bloody-mindedness, he had made a mess of his life, and he could not fix that by running away.

She was sure the old Sanderly would have disdained to do such a thing and the old Sanderly was still in there. If he went now, the bitterness and self-loathing would only grow. Even if he found other satisfactions in his journeys, he would always know in his heart that he had walked away from his responsibilities as earl, his land and his people and his family.

Suddenly cold, she wound her arms around herself.

But he had told her the truth. Or some of it. And she was sure he had never told anyone else. Jealousy and old grudges had been at work in the army, she was sure of it. And the trivial, self-righteous gossips of the ton had done the rest. So he had made himself into what they thought he was, and instead of seeing how ridiculous they were, they had believed it. He had made a vicious circle of contempt and hatred. When in reality there was only a good man and a lost, grieving boy beneath that haughty, sneering surface.

I need a plan. Quickly . Time to consult her troops.

First, she had to return to the ballroom, eat a bite of supper, perhaps smuggle some upstairs for her siblings who, she was sure, would be awake. Or at least Rose and Alex would be.

Twenty minutes later, she found the nursery empty. Old Nurse’s snores could be heard through two doors. There was no sign of Mildred. Harriet retreated in silence and went to her own bedchamber where, as expected, she found Rose, Alex, and Orchid sitting on her bed. Lily was propped up in her own, her head resting on her hand.

“Did you wake Lily up?” Harriet demanded.

“No, I woke up myself,” Lily answered, “and then they arrived. They know something.”

“What do you know?” Harriet asked without huge interest. Her mind was all on Sanderly.

“It’s about Lord Snake,” Orchid said seriously. “He’s going to fight a duel.”

Harriet blinked, refocusing her eyes on her youngest sister. “A duel? Oh, no. With Lord Illsworth?”

So that was how he meant to deal with Bab’s problem before he left. If he killed Illsworth... Her breath caught. “We have to stop him. I’ll tell Mr. Martindale.”

“He already knows,” Alex said. “It was he we overheard talking to Sir John in the passage. Don’t look like that, Harry, it’s not as bad as it could be. It’s only swords and ends with first blood.”

But accidents happened. Wounds festered. And Sanderly didn’t much care because he was leaving the country and had no real intention of coming back. What if he was the one with the festering wound?

“Swords and pistols are designed for killing,” she said bleakly.

“What should we do?” Rose asked.

Harriet sank slowly onto Lily’s bed. “I don’t know yet. Did you discover where they are to meet?”

Alex shook his head.

“Then we have to follow them when they leave the house. It has to be at dawn. I’m sure such affairs are always at dawn.”

Alex nodded sagely and they made their plan.

***

I T WAS NOT A GREAT plan, depending as it did merely on men’s horror at conducting an affair of honour under the gaze of delicate ladies. Harriet did not really count as such, but she hoped Bab did.

In the grey half-light before dawn, two lots of two gentlemen left the house. They all carried lanterns. Illsworth and Sir John left first by the front door and strode around to the stables. The grooms must have received their orders the previous evening because it was only a couple of minutes later that, duly mounted, they rode off toward the woods.

“They’re on horseback,” Rose whispered from behind the rhododendron bush. “How will we catch up with them now?”

“By running and good luck,” Harriet said grimly.

An instant later, Lord Sanderly and Mr. Martindale swept past in the same direction.

“Where is Alex?” Rose muttered impatiently.

“Right here,” Alex said, materializing beside them. “I waited until Mr. Martindale left, then slid the note under Lady Bab’s door.”

Harriet set off warily, grasping Orchid by the hand. “Good. Did you hear voices? Was Bab awake?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, we’d better not count on her,” Harriet said. She felt guilty depriving the children of yet more sleep, but it was only once, and at least they had dissuaded Lily from trying to take part.

As soon as the riders had vanished into the trees, they increased their pace and pelted after them. And then it was surprisingly easy, for they could see a lantern winking through the trees ahead, and even make out the fresh footprints on the track. The men seemed to be in no huge rush, so perhaps there was not too far to go.

At least no one seemed to be aware yet that they were following. No one lay in wait, and when they caught the odd glimpse of Sanderly and James, they were always looking straight ahead. It was Harriet who, alarmed by odd crackles and rustlings in the wood, kept glancing over her shoulder.

Concentrate , she told herself severely.

Some ten minutes later, she made out more than one winking light ahead and they crept more carefully through the thinning trees. The greater silence made Harriet more aware than ever of every rustle in the undergrowth, every snapping twig.

And then she saw her quarries and forgot everything else.

In the dim beginnings of daylight, the duelling party had made a sort of arena of lanterns, most of which must have been transported to this spot yesterday. Harriet fumbled in her old dress pocket for the opera glasses Orchid had borrowed from Lady Grandison the day before and peered at the men in the wide arena.

There was Sir John, looking grim and disapproving beside Illsworth, who was already grasping his sword, swinging it restlessly through the air. Illsworth still looked smug, which was worrying. Shouldn’t he be frightened to face a seasoned soldier? Well, he would not show it, and according to Alex, a first blood fight was not so very serious...

Sir John snatched the sword from Illsworth and marched toward the centre of the “arena”, where James Martindale met him with another sword. They compared the lengths of the blades and examined each other’s weapons.

At the other side of this stage, the doctor who had attended Lily was walking away from Lord Sanderly. Harriet barely noticed him. She focused on Sanderly’s lean, haughty features. He seemed as bored and uninterested in the procedure as he had been with every other aspect of the party. The emotion he had betrayed last night was nowhere in evidence. He even yawned delicately behind his hand.

Harriet’s heart beat faster. In the odd, upward light from the lantern next to him, his features looked sculpted and beautiful...and that was so unimportant at this moment.

Sanderly, apparently summoned by his second, strolled across the stage, unbuttoning his coat, which he shrugged off and handed to James in return for the sword. In his shirt-sleeves, he looked slight and no less elegant than before. His fingers grasped the sword with supreme casualness, like shaking hands with an old friend. He held it still by his side, with none of the theatrics of Illsworth who was again making audible passes in the air.

Sanderly is too off-hand , Harriet thought uneasily, Illsworth too certain of his victory ...

Sir John, standing about a yard to one side and halfway between them, was addressing both combatants, holding up a bright, white handkerchief between his finger and thumb. From the motion of his hand, he seemed to be explaining that the fight could begin when he dropped the handkerchief.

The doctor and James had already cleared out of the way with the duellists’ coats and hats. Sanderly and Illsworth now faced each other, only a few feet apart. They held their swords upright in front of them in a salute, Sanderly’s over-casual posture and apparently loose grip seemed to say he could not really be bothered with the fuss. Harriet’s stomach twisted in fear.

“Get ready,” she told the children. “Remember, as fast as you can and as loud as you—”

And that was when Cousin Randolph stepped out of the trees to her left.

“Well, well,” he said. “How fortunate to find you all together. One is missing, but never mind. She will come when you call.”

From the field came a cry and a horrible clash and screech of steel that chilled Harriet’s blood. Several shouts went up, and yet Harriet could not even look, for Randolph had snatched Orchid up like a sack of potatoes.

“Time to go home,” he said coldly. “March.”

***

I LLSWORTH WAS OVER -confident. Sanderly could see that at a glance. The man truly under-estimated his opponent, presumably believing the various rumours that Sanderly’s nerve had been lost on the Peninsula, along with his honour.

All to the good. The fight would be over all the sooner.

Grandison stepped back, holding his handkerchief at arm’s length, so that, even gazing at each other, both duellists could see from the corner of their eyes when it fell. Illsworth’s eyes were remarkably steady, waiting... And then some small change in them, gave Sanderly a moment’s warning.

Illsworth’s sword slashed down and he lunged with practised speed, driving his sword straight at Sanderly’s heart. His eyes blazed with triumph.

James cried out in outrage, just as the handkerchief dropped.

But it was already over.

It seemed the instinct never left. Sanderly whipped his sword downward, deflecting Illsworth’s only a fraction of an instant before it would have pierced him. With a shove and a twist, he sent Illsworth’s sword flying through the air. At the same time, he lashed out with one foot, sending Illsworth crashing to the ground. And then, amongst the outraged cries of the seconds and the doctor, he rested his sword point against Illsworth’s wobbling throat.

“By God, you were too soon!” Grandison shouted at his man.

“You forfeit,” James growled as Sanderly delicately pricked Illsworth’s skin. A small bobble of blood oozed.

“And you lost,” Sanderly purred. “Both the fight and your reputation, sadly.”

“Nonsense,” Illsworth panted. He still looked stunned by the defeat he had snatched from certain victory, but not yet afraid. “They won’t tell in case there’s speculation about Bab, and no one will believe you .”

“The alternative is,” Sanderly said thoughtfully, “I simply lean a little too hard here ...”

At last, fear ignited in Illsworth’s eyes.

“It’s his right, isn’t it?” James said to Grandison. “Your man cheated.”

Grandison shrugged and curled his lips. “He did and he is no long—”

A child’s scream rent the air, and Sanderly’s head snapped up toward the woods where the blood-chilling sound had come from.

Orchid .

He leapt over Illsworth and raced toward the wood, even as several other voices joined the screaming. It was a fearful racket, terrifying him. Had someone stepped into one of those vicious mantraps set for poachers? Harriet’s voice soared over all the rest, and the knowledge that she would never scream except as a last, very necessary resort, made his heart almost explode with fear.

He burst through the trees and the screaming turned off like a tap.

He took in the situation at a glance. He had often had to, in his soldiering days. Harriet, mercifully unharmed, stood in front of Rose and Alex, only inches away from a strange man who held the wriggling, kicking Orchid over his shoulder.

In spite of everything, Harriet smiled at Sanderly, gratitude, relief and total trust shining in her eyes. His heart broke into pieces. His head kept working.

They had all been yelling, he guessed, to confuse the man who held Orchid, as well as to attract help. Clearly, the man would not leave without the others, too.

Cousin Randolph .

Instead of drumming with her fists on her cousin’s shoulders, Orchid stretched both arms to Sanderly. “Snake!”

With his sword hilt, Sanderly issued a smart smack to Randolph’s head. Randolph clutched his head with a startled cry and loosened his hold. Sanderly snatched the child and stepped back.

“We came to rescue you!” Orchid crowed, her little arms hugging around his neck. “And you’ve rescued us instead!”

Just for an instant, his gaze met Harriet’s and held.

“What is the meaning of this?” Randolph blustered. “Unhand my ward immediately, sir, or face the full consequences of the law!”

He had whirled around as he spoke, taking in Sanderly’s deshabille and the sword grasped still in his free hand. His eyes widened impossibly. Both hands fell to his sides.

“Footpads!” he yelped.

“Nonsense,” Harriet said briskly, marching up to take her sister from Sanderly, thus leaving both his arms free. “My lord, allow me to present my cousin, Mr. Randolph Cole. Randolph, the Earl of Sanderly.”

Randolph’s face began to blanch at the title, before, no doubt, everything associated with the name trickled into his brain.

“He’s been fighting a duel,” Alex goaded. “And you’re next. Did you beat him, sir?”

“Yes, of course,” Sanderly said, his mind racing on to other things entirely. Other people were blundering through the trees now to join them—the rest of the duelling party.

“Come, children,” Randolph commanded. “I shall not have you associating with such a man.”

“Sadly, you have no say in the matter,” Sanderly drawled. It was a stab in the dark, but the only thing that made sense of Randolph’s behaviour. “The entail gave you the late Mr. Cole’s property, but his will never placed his children under your guardianship. Nor their inheritance under your control. The solicitors are already looking into your pilfering.”

“You insult me, sir!”

“Always happy to oblige. I expect you thought to marry Harriet, too, once her spirit was broken, in order to have what was left of her fortune under your direct control.”

Randolph pulled himself up to his full height. “I might have known someone like you was responsible for enticing these vulnerable young people from the safety of their home! Harriet is my betrothed bride!”

“Yes, she clearly can’t bear to be apart from you,” Sanderly observed.

The children giggled.

Sir John Grandison, who had been gazing around the scene in astonishment, said abruptly, “We are not acquainted, sir.”

“He’s our cousin Randolph,” Rose said with distaste, before anyone else could answer. “Orchid really did see him at the inn yesterday, but he didn’t see us. He must have heard about us, though. I think he meant to snatch us from the house before anyone else was awake, only we were on our way to stop the duel and he followed us. He grabbed Orchid and threatened to hurt her if we didn’t all go with him.”

“Oh, did he?” Sanderly uttered, fiercely glad of the ugliness he heard in his own soft voice. He took a step nearer Randolph who stumbled back in alarm.

Grandison’s hand descended briefly, warningly, on Sanderly’s shoulder. “I think, Mr. Cole, you owe me an explanation, one, preferably, that justifies your trespass. The crimes of threat, theft, and abduction should no doubt be left to the law.”

“Aren’t you the magistrate?” asked Alex.

“Yes,” said Sir John in a satisfied manner that made Sanderly’s lips twitch.

A hand slipped into his, too large to be Orchid’s. Stunned, he could not look at Harriet, but her warmth seeped through him, soothing his recent fear, melting the protective ice he had fought so hard to build.

She had brought her siblings to save him somehow.

And he had known from the instant of that first scream, that he would give his life to save not only her but all the Coles.

Except Randolph.

“Where is Illsworth?” he said suddenly.

“Bolted,” said the doctor bitterly. “In my carriage.”

“Dash it,” James said, scowling. “He has not signed our document!”

“He doesn’t need to now,” Sanderly said. “His behaviour in the duel saw to that. He is ruined and he knows it. Nothing he says will be believed, and if he is by chance invited anywhere, he’ll know better than to accept.”

Harriet’s gaze burned into his face. Grandison and James and the doctor all looked at him, too. He had, after all, more cause than most to know how rumour and ruin worked.

“James!” gasped a woman’s voice.

Lady Bab hurled herself from a chestnut mare, whom no one had noticed approaching along the soft track, and ran straight into her husband’s arms.

“I shall be sick,” Sanderly warned. “May we return to the house, Grandison, before my sister is discovered by anyone else to be quite so unfashionable?”

Harriet let out a breath of laughter.

“I still await Mr. Cole’s explanation.”

“There is nothing to explain, sir,” Randolph said superbly. “Merely to apologize for the behaviour of my betrothed and my other wards who have taken shameful advantage of your hospitality. Harriet is playing some trick on me to gain my attention.”

“I’m not betrothed to you,” Harriet said instantly. “I would not agree to marry you if you were the last man on earth.”

“That is certainly clear enough,” Sir John murmured. “And so to your presence on my land, Mr. Cole?”

“I was calling upon you, sir.”

“At dawn?” Lady Bab said incredulously.

Randolph glared at her. “I was worried! I needed to know where my cousins were! And then I saw them sneaking out of the house and behaving most suspiciously. Naturally, I followed them for their own safety. And since I discover them in such company as Lord Sanderly’s—”

“His lordship is my guest,” Grandison said coldly, which took Sanderly by surprise.

Randolph blinked rapidly, but only bowed by way of apology before crashing on, “I shall take my cousins off your hands forthwith. Harriet, no more of this. My carriage awaits at Grand Court.” He seemed suddenly to see that Harriet’s hand was in Sanderly’s, for his face flushed with outrage. “Unhand my betrothed, sir, this instant.”

“She is not your betrothed,” Sanderly snapped. “She is mine.”

Dear God, what have I said? What have I done?

“Really?” Rose cried with inexplicable delight.

Everyone else was staring at him in shock. But although he did not grip Harriet’s hand, she did not let his go, only gazed up at him, and he could not look, could not bear to see...what? Outrage? Indignation? Panic? Fear? Disgust?

Reluctantly, as though a thread pulled at him in the silence, he turned his head. A tremulous smile lurked on her lips and in her bright, sparkling eyes. She is mine ...

“I am yours,” she whispered.

The surge of reasonless joy almost floored him.

“I expect you have a special license,” Harriet said.

“I expect I do,” he said obediently.

Even if he had tried, there had been no time to obtain such a thing, but that did not appear to strike Randolph or anyone else.

“I withhold my consent!” Randolph cried.

“You can’t,” Sanderly said. “Even if you have any legal rights, which I doubt, you won’t risk exerting them for fear of what illegalities my people will find.”

“Well, that would appear to be that,” Grandison said in conclusion. “I suggest we repair to the house all together and on foot, where we shall enjoy a good breakfast and a stiff drink. And Mr. Cole may return to his carriage. You’ll forgive my lack of hospitality, sir, but with my solicitors acting in conjunction with the late Mr. Cole’s against you, you will agree that it would not be right. My servants will bring back the horses.”