Page 50 of No Match for Love (Regency Love Stories)

“Wake your master,” Lucas demanded of the butler.

The man looked back and forth between Colin and Lucas and seemed to decide that he would prefer Lord Colbert’s wrath over theirs. He nodded his head once then fled up the stairs. Lucas and Colin pushed into the entrance hall, closing the door behind them.

The room was lit by candles but only a handful. Shadowy portraits hung on the walls, and the decorative designs on the carpet danced in the flickering light.

“Think the man has any brandy?” Colin said.

“For what?”

“Medicinal purposes.”

Lucas raised a skeptical brow.

“Mostly I just want ta drink a bottle of the lord’s finest then smash the empty glass over his head.”

Lucas chuckled at that. He was in a surprisingly good mood for someone bent on confronting the man responsible for his brother’s beating and convincing the clearly bloodthirsty lord to stop his rampage. But he was finally doing something , and it was glorious.

Part of his mood may have had to do with a certain woman and their shared kiss, too. The sooner he completed this business, the sooner he could return to her.

A thunderous voice sounded at the top of the stairs. “Who in the blazes is calling at this hour?”

“I suppose the brandy will have to wait,” Lucas said to Colin.

“Shame.” Colin spread his feet, clearly cautious after his run-in with the Heatherdown thugs.

Heavy footsteps came down the staircase, and Lord Colbert came into view.

The resemblance between him and his second son was clear.

They might have been mirror images of one another if not for the father’s excess of padding, receding hairline, and deep grooves between his brows and around his eyes. He eyed Colin and Lucas.

“What do you want?” he demanded.

“Ta stop dancin’ a reel with yer hired hamfists, for one,” Colin offered.

The man’s brows creased even more, and he looked at Lucas. “What ditch did you pull him out of?”

Lucas’s ire rose. “Are you the head of the Heatherdown Canal Company?”

“I am no working man, if that’s what you imply.”

Lucas nearly rolled his eyes. Lords and their need to appear rich without ever lifting a finger. Someone ought to remind them that no one would ever accuse them of working as hard as a farmer or businessman. “Do you fund the company?”

“Who is asking?”

Colin crossed his arms as Lucas said, “Lord Berkeley. Heir to the Marquess of Cheltenham.” Lucas did not like to throw his titled weight around, but it seemed necessary with this man.

The man peered at him, eyes suddenly widening with pleasure. “You looking to invest?”

Colin and Lucas exchanged looks.

“No,” Lucas said. “I’m looking to discover just who is setting hired men on my family and friends.”

There was a moment of stunned silence, then Lord Colbert glanced at his butler and said, in a low, clipped tone, “Let us discuss this in my office.”

With continued glances over their shoulders, they followed Lord Colbert to the back of the house into a study that oozed wealth and prosperity.

A maid hurried ahead of them, lighting candles, then slipped from the room.

Lord Colbert pulled on the ties of his dressing gown as he sat.

“That is quite an accusation, Lord Berkeley.” But he did not sound so confident as before.

“It is quite an offense,” Lucas returned.

Then, crossing his arms, he speared the man with a look of utmost reprobation.

“I’ve no desire to skirt around the matter, Lord Colbert.

I have become aware that you are the head of the company, and if you do not call off your hounds, there will be consequences you will not enjoy. ”

The man’s jaw jutted forward in defiance. “I am not saying I have any part in the matter, but perhaps you ought to stay out of another man’s business.”

“When you decided to attack my family members, you made it my business. Do you not understand your position here? In a moment, I could have each of your investors calling off. I could have your family’s name drug through the mud of the Strand.

No home would welcome you—no one would do business with you.

I hold power you do not seem to comprehend. Do not test me.”

More of Lord Colbert’s confidence slipped from his face, and he rubbed his hands together, swallowing hard. “Gentlemen, perhaps we can come to some sort of agreement.” He stood. “Why don’t I prepare some drinks for us?” He was already on his feet, crossing the room. “Something strong perhaps?”

“Sit down, Colbert,” Lucas said. Colin began getting to his own feet, likely imagining the man was about to make a break for it.

“I will only be—”

“He said, sit yer backside down. Or ye ken I’ll do it for ye.”

Colbert turned back to them, mouth pulled tight. His solemn expression gave Lucas a spurt of success. Finally, the man was taking things seriously.

***

Lydia kicked at Mr. Frank Colbert, but her foot met only air when he pulled his legs to the side as the carriage jumped into motion. Her heart was pounding in a combination of fear, anxiety, and anger. She was leaning into the anger to repress the other feelings.

He raised his hands, his face registering surprise. “Miss Faraday, I do apologize, but I could not stand by while you witnessed that disgraceful scene.”

“If you could not stand by, you ought to have helped!”

“I have!” he nearly yelled. “I am not being modest when I say I am no pugilist, Miss Faraday. The best I could do in this scenario was exactly what I have done. Your friends would not have wanted you to come to harm—therefore, I have removed you from harm.”

Lydia’s nostrils flared, and she nearly stomped her feet—every turn of the wheels took her farther from helping Charlie and Sir Henry. And Lucas. Where was he if not at the club? Or had the thugs finished him off before setting on Charlie and Sir Henry?

The thought made it suddenly difficult to breathe.

“Mr. Frank Colbert,” she said, straining for a modicum of calm, “I appreciate what you have done, or at least the sentiment behind it, but I cannot allow you to drag me away like this. It is... unwarranted, unseemly, and entirely unwanted.”

Colbert stared at her. “You wished to stay in danger?”

Lydia huffed. “I wished to help. I...” She trailed off, unable to agree to his assessment. “I could have waited in my carriage.”

“And what would you have done when those brigands set on you ? I do not think a carriage door would have held them at bay.”

Lydia pressed her eyes shut. “My friends will be wondering where I have gone.”

“I do believe they are busy for now, but I will send a message to let them know where to find you. And I can send help as well. Several footmen. A doctor perhaps?” He sounded relieved that she was no longer as against his whisking her away—or at least that she was not kicking him.

She crossed her arms but nodded, seeing that it was the best plan she could hope for, if a cowardly one. “And where exactly are you taking me?”

“My father’s home.”

Her frustration rose again. “I have my own home, Mr. Frank Colbert.”

“A home from which you left, at night, in the company of two gentlemen,” he accused.

Her mouth dropped open. “Did you follow me?”

He pursed his lips. “I had no choice.” His look turned sheepish.

“I confess I was waiting outside in hopes you would change your mind regarding my proposal. I did not intend to wait long, but then another man came to call on you, and I admit to a... well, a bit of jealousy. I waited to see if you would send him off as well, but you did not; you went with him.” He sounded dejected, and Lydia ought to have softened his hurt the smallest bit, but she could not.

She was angry to have had the control over her person stolen from her.

And she was terrified for those they’d left behind.

“The situation is one that you do not understand, but you need not worry yourself over my reputation. Please return me home.”

“I do not think your uncle would appreciate your leaving at night with two men, regardless of the circumstances.”

“My—who?”

Colbert was silent. Then he cleared his throat. “Apologies, a slip of the tongue.”

Lydia narrowed her eyes at him. “I have no family. You know this.”

He nodded, his composure returned. “Yes, of course. As I said, it was a slip of the tongue.”

“Regardless, you may take me to my own home.”

“We are almost to mine, Miss Faraday. Let us stop, send help to your... friends, and then I will escort you home.”

She pressed her eyes shut, wishing she could just as easily press back the nausea overtaking her.

There was no use arguing, so she crossed her arms tightly, avoiding his eye.

He offered his apologies several more times, but she merely nodded stiffly in his direction.

The longer she was in this carriage, the more tightly wound she became.

Not only did she fear for the safety of her friends, but another, more selfish, fear had begun to take root.

Would Lord Berkeley want her after this? He’d never said he wanted her at all, but his kiss... His kiss had made her hope. But after the time spent alone with Mr. Frank Colbert, her reputation could be ruined. Would Lord Berkeley turn her down then?

She tried her best to slow her racing heart—deep breaths through her nose and forced relaxing of her limbs—but it did not work.

Lord Berkeley may not be interested in a future with her, but she would not pursue a shadowy version of what she felt with him with anyone else.

She would await her twenty-fifth birthday and receive her freedom then, even if freedom was not her first choice any longer.

At last, the carriage slowed, and Mr. Frank Colbert opened the door.

“Come, we will get you some tea and send that message.”

Lydia accepted his assistance from the carriage but released his hand immediately. “Just the message, please.” She flexed her hands, anxious to be free of the man’s presence.

He nodded a little too solicitously. “Very well, if you insist. Come inside a moment, and I will find a servant.”

Lydia followed him up the stairs, refraining from dragging her feet. She just wanted to find Lord Berkeley and see that Sir Henry and Charlie were well. Every second that ticked by meant a greater chance that they were hurt or worse.

The door opened, and Mr. Frank Colbert ushered Lydia inside, asking the butler, “Is my father up?”

The butler nodded. “He is in the study with guests.”

“At this hour? Never mind. Fetch him, will you?”

The butler gave Colbert a small bow then hastened down the hall.

Mr. Frank Colbert turned to Lydia. “Just a moment, and we will have you taken care of.”

Sound came from down the hall. A door opening. Voices.

Lydia registered the face of an older version of Mr. Frank Colbert in the few seconds before, without warning, Mr. Frank Colbert grabbed her by the upper arms, pulled her close—

And kissed her.