Page 28 of The Broken Marchioness (Lords of Inconvenience #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

A llan turned up at the constable’s station early in the morning. He planned to leave for Cornwall as soon as this meeting was over and had arrived in the early hours of the morning to get it out of the way as quickly as possible.

“Lord Padleigh?” the senior constable said, standing to greet him as Allan walked in. “I’m Constable Burns. My junior said you wish to report an assault.”

“That’s right.” Allan shook the man’s hand and sat down on the other side of a desk as the constable returned to his seat. “Before I begin, the assault took place some time ago. In fact, it was a year ago.”

Constable Burns muttered, as if this meant nothing.

“That wouldn’t affect your chance of a conviction?”

“No, it wouldn’t.” Constable Burns shook his head. “I need evidence though.”

“Very well, I will give it to you.” Allan reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out two strips of paper.

One had been written by himself the night before. He had extensively written down everything he could remember about what Frederica had told him of the night she had been attacked. He had also written down some of the meeting he’d had with Lord Wetherington, choosing to leave out the part where he himself had assaulted the man. Instead, he had talked of Wetherington’s obsession with Frederica and his need to stop any other man having her — something he had as good as confessed to her.

The second paper was a letter which had been addressed to Charlotte. It was from Frederica and had been written during her time in Cornwall.

Last night, as Allan had left the house, ready to make his plans to go to Cornwall, Charlotte had caught up with him and handed over the letter, saying she hoped it would help him in his quest for justice for Frederica.

He wasn’t sure if Charlotte realized exactly what she had handed him, but it was everything he needed to see that Lord Wetherington wouldn’t just leave Frederica alone by escaping to another country but by being sent to a prison instead.

“In this letter,” he said, handing it over to the constable. “You will see it is from my wife, Lady Padleigh. In it, she writes to her friend about an assault she suffered last year. She does not mention the man by name, but I now know the man.”

He proceeded to hand the constable the other two strips of paper.

“A viscount.” Constable Burns shifted uncomfortably.

“Will that be a problem? Arresting a viscount?”

“If a marquess and a marchioness are making the accusation? That should make things a little easier.” Constable Burns nodded. “I just have to find him first and bring him in.”

“You will take this seriously then?” Allan asked with hope. “Forgive me, I’ve met men in my life who easily dismiss the idea of a woman being assaulted by a man. They do not consider such things as serious matters.”

“It is serious to you though?” Constable Burns said with interest.

“I cannot tell you how much. The thought of Lord Wetherington ever trying to touch her again, or any other woman for that matter, sickens me.” He sat rigidly in his seat, hoping not to appear too angry. If he was to get what he wanted, he needed to sound like a calm and reasonable man making this accusation.

“Well, it is serious to me too.” Constable Burns’ face suddenly firmed up, and a deep frown creased his brow. “I knew a young woman who had been attacked once in such a way. I know what you mean, My Lord. Many men in this world take violence against women as something that is happenstance, but I am not one of them, and I will not stand for it.”

He leaned forward with clear purpose in his expression. “You have my word. I will pursue Lord Wetherington for this crime.”

“Thank you.” Allan reached forward and shook the constable’s hand then he took his leave.

As he left the station, he just had to hope that his threat to Lord Wetherington the night before hadn’t caused him to leave the country in a matter of hours. If Allan could see justice in the court of law, that would be the ultimate form of justice, and he prayed that it would show Frederica that she never needed to fear the man again.

* * *

When the carriage pulled up outside Honora’s house in Cornwall, Allan had the door open even before it had fully stopped. He jumped down, so dangerously close to the wheel that even the footman hollered out to him to be careful.

Allan just walked on, marching straight toward the door. He had seen the address in Honora’s letters to Frederica, for once they were married, she had shared them with him.

He quickly took in what a beautiful place it was. The house was modest though well-kept with roses and ivy trailing the walls and a fine garden filled with flowers whose blooms hadn’t been subdued in the recent rain. The sun was even starting to come out, peering between grey clouds, as if it had come to watch the event that was about to unfold.

Allan rapped his knuckles on the door repeatedly. His wounded hand stung at the action. At first, it wasn’t answered though he heard a commotion inside.

He had to keep knocking, but eventually it was answered, but not by a member of staff. It was flung open by Honora.

There was fire in her eyes as she glared at him.

“Lord Padleigh! No, no, this is wrong. You must leave at once. She doesn’t want to see you.”

“Then she’s here?” Relief flooded Allan’s bones. All day and all night he had traveled in the carriage, desperate for some news of her. Now, at least, he had it. “Is she well? She’s not hurt?”

“What? No, she’s perfectly well. In body, anyway,” Honora said, shifting her weight between her feet.

Lord Wetherington did not hurt her before she left. Thank God!

“Please, let me see my wife,” Allan begged.

“That, I cannot allow.” Honora suddenly stepped out of the door and closed it behind her. That loud thud was like a death knoll to Allan. To have come so far and yet be sent packing; he couldn’t bear it.

“Please,” Allan said again.

“She ran from you.” Honora spoke with great spirit, raising her chin. “I have tried myself to persuade her into talking to you, maybe even returning to you, but she will not have it. She is adamant, and I will not persuade her to do something she does not want to do, least of all speak to you now.”

“So much has changed though since she left. I have things to tell her. Good things. Things that will make her feel safe again.” Allan tried to step around her, but she firmly moved in his way. “Please, just let me see my wife. Everything I have to say will make things better.”

“You think that?” Her scoff was a dubious one indeed.

“Oh, God.” Allan moved back from her. Honora could be full of spirit when she wanted to be. Clearly, she was the best guard dog Frederica could have hoped for.

I have to see her. I have to!

Without knowing what else to do, Allan acted on instinct.

He turned back to face Honora then dropped to his knees, pressing his hands together.

“Oh my goodness. Lord Padleigh! Stand up at once.”

“I cannot.” Allan shook his head. “I am begging you. Please, let me see my wife. If you do not want us to be alone for the discussion, that is fine. You can be with us, but I beg of you to let me see her. There are things I need to tell her.”

“You’re getting my garden dirt all over your trousers,” she pointed out with a flick of her fingers.

“I don’t care.” He shook his head. “I’ll drench myself in dirt if it buys me just five minutes with her.”

“You’re a dramatic man, aren’t you?” She raised one of her eyebrows. “You rather suit my niece in some ways. I have always been fond of her dramatic ways, too.” She sighed and flicked her fingers toward the door. “You’ll find her in the sitting room. You may go in to see her.”

Allan scrambled to get to his feet.

“But…” Honora held up a finger in warning. “… you will leave if she asks you to. Yes?”

“I will.” Allan nodded.

Slowly, Honora reached back and opened the door wide.

Allan took a small step forward, scarcely able to believe he was being given this chance. When Honora didn’t move to stop him, he moved fast. He stepped into the house, only briefly marveling at the house’s comforts and how well it was kept with small paintings on the walls and fine carpets.

He reached for the nearest door and found a sitting room, stepping inside to see that Frederica was in there.

She appeared not to have even noticed there was a carriage outside. She had been completely wrapped up in her task of putting the final touches to a silhouette portrait. She looked up at his entrance then did a double take, jerking her chin twice in his direction, for she was evidently in disbelief at his entrance.

“Allan?” she whispered.

“Freddie.”

There was sudden silence as that look between them lasted. There wasn’t anger in her expression or even fear in that moment. He could have sworn he saw something else entirely — happiness? Maybe even want?

Then he stepped forward, and the magic spell of that look was gone.

“What are you doing here!?” she snapped loudly, jumping to her feet. She nearly dropped the silhouette and scarcely managed to keep hold of it in time. She put it down on the table instead and marched toward him.

They met in the middle of the room, not quite touching, though he was dreaming of embracing her and holding her tight.

“You can’t be here. You can’t.”

“I can.” He reached out and touched her hand. “Because there are things I have to tell you, Freddie, and I beg of you to hear me out.”

* * *

Frederica’s heartbeat was thundering in her chest. She wasn’t even sure she could distinguish one beat from the next for it hammered so fast and for so long.

Allan’s hand had taken hold of hers in the gentlest of ways. He was giving her the chance to pull back from him, but she had no wish to. It meant too much to feel his touch again.

“He can’t hurt you now.” Allan’s words made her blink.

“What?”

Is he talking of Lord Wetherington? That cannot be. I never told Allan his name.

“Lord Wetherington.” At Allan’s words, Frederica made a small squeaking sound of panic.

“Tell me you didn’t go to see him. Tell me.” Frederica stepped toward him. She reached out on instinct and laid a hand on his arm, looking him all over, checking for wounds. That’s when she saw it.

Across one hand, his knuckles were bruised, and on the other, there was a thin linen bandage.

“What did you do?” Frederica said in panic.

“I made sure he will never come after you again,” Allan said, his tone deep. “Freddie, listen to me.” He raised his hand, ever so gently, and tapped his finger to the underside of her chin. It made her look up, meeting his gaze. “He threatened to hurt Dorothy then he threatened to hurt me, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” she whispered. It was odd to say it out loud to Allan at last.

“He made you leave me,” Allan said, bending his head toward her.

“I had to.” Frederica reached for his bandaged hand, trailing her fingers across it. He didn’t wince. He revealed no pain. “He hurt you?”

“Ha! No, no, he did not. I hurt him,” Allan said, unfurling the bandage to show her the wound across his knuckles. It was dappled with the lightest specks of blood.

She had been on the verge of telling him to leave, of telling him that she wasn’t worth the risk of him getting hurt, but the words died on her tongue.

“He won’t be coming after you again,” Allan promised. “Either that beating will stop him from ever coming back or his arrest certainly will.”

“His arrest?” she spluttered. “What for?”

“For attacking you last year.” He took her hand in both of his, holding it tightly in his own. “What he did is a crime, and maybe your parents never saw that, but I see it, and plenty of other people do too. He will be arrested for trying to hurt you.”

Frederica could summon no words. How was it possible? How had Allan managed to achieve all of this — to turn her situation on its head so that Lord Wetherington had no power?

“Come home,” he said suddenly.

“What?” Frederica’s fingers curled through his own. “But you must hate me. After what I did, after what I said.” She closed her eyes tightly, hating to remember the things she had said that night.

“How could I ever hate you?”

“I’m not worthy of you, Allan,” the words burst out of her.

“What? What rubbish!” Allan moved even nearer towards her. She supposed she should have retreated from him, but to do so now seemed like the hardest thing. She just let him come nearer, so she was looking up into his eyes. “Your parents have downtrodden you every step of your life, making you think life is about being worthy. That’s mad, Freddie,” he whispered.

“Is it?” It didn’t feel mad. Allan was too good for her. “You offered this wonderful life, and I couldn’t have it,” she tried to explain. “Lord Wetherington, he…”

“…is gone.” Allan assured her. “We’re free now. Free to do as we wish. You’re free to run your life as you wish. If you want to stay here in Cornwall, then I will not stop you.”

“What?” she spluttered in surprise.

“If this is the life you choose, then I will support you. I’ll send you money to make sure you’re more comfortable, but…” He paused, breathing deeply. In that pause, she could hear her heartbeat echoing in her ears. “But if you choose to live your life with me, I think we have the best chance of happiness together. I really do.”

Happiness. Not contentment, but something so much more!

The memory of her aunt’s words kept running through her mind.

“I beg of you to choose me, Freddie, because…” He paused another time. He looked down at the floor, seeming to weigh something up in his mind before he moved.

“What are you — oh!”

He had dropped to one knee.

“Are you actually?—?”

“I am.” He smiled.

“But we are already…”

“We are.” That smile kept on growing in the most beautiful way.

She didn’t think she had yet seen such a smile on his face. For the chance to see that smile again and again, she was nearly ready to say anything.

“Frederica,” he said her full name. “Would you do me the honor of staying married to me? Because I love you. I love you, and although I wasn’t expecting it and wasn’t ready for it, please believe me when I say I have no wish to turn back the clock. I wish to be your husband if you’ll have me.”

He loves me… he loves me!

Frederica’s heartbeat was now off the scale with joy. How could it be possible that he loved her too? That somehow, he could come knocking on her door and tell her that everything was sorted, that he had saved her from a fate she was dreading.

“That first night at the assembly, when you saved me from falling down the stairs, you kept me safe,” she whispered.

“I did.”

“I didn’t know you would make it your mission.” She blinked away tears of joy as she smiled. “To keep saving me.”

“Well, it is my mission. If you’ll have me.” He turned her hand over in his grasp and moved it to his lips, kissing the back gently.

“Yes,” she said, her voice juddering a bit between her gasping breaths.

“Wait, was that a yes? You’ll stay married to me?” he said in hope.

“Yes!”

He stood hurriedly and moved toward her then he halted. She could have sworn he was about to kiss her. Her stomach coiled with excitement when he came near, but when he halted, she saw the fading smile and realized what had held him back.

“Remember when I told you not to kiss me on the lips again?” she asked softly.

“How could I forget?”

“Well, forget it now. Please, forget that I ever made such a foolish request.”

“Thank God for that,” he said with a laugh and moved towards her.

In one swift movement, Frederica felt Allan slide his hand across her waist, curving across her back so that she was pulled toward him. Then his lips met hers.

It was a chaste kiss, the mere press of lips together, but it meant everything to Frederica. As her hands curled around the lapels of his jacket, holding him near, the kiss became ever more intense. It was a thrilling feeling, the kind she had only glimpsed before as he had kissed her when they were playing blindman’s buff.

Then she realized something. This moment would not be complete until she had told him one more thing.

“Allan,” she tried to pull back though he stole another swift kiss. She laughed and kissed him back before pushing him away enough to talk. “Allan, there’s one more thing I need to tell you.”

He looked at her expectantly, kissing the back of her hand as he could not get to her lips.

“I love you, too.”

At her words, he revealed a radiant smile and kissed her again.