To Make a Match (A Scandal in London Novel) Page 12

  “Oh, sweet merciful heavens above,” whispered Victoria, paling. “You came through the door—Amelia—she’ll have heard you!”

  Julius smiled grimly. “I can promise you that no one saw or heard me enter. But you, Withy—you’re bloody lucky! What in heaven’s name possessed you, man? She would have been ruined if you’d been caught by anyone else!”

  “I needed to speak with her in privacy, and Amelia hasn’t left us alone for even an instant. I’m telling you, I’m surprised I’ve been able to take a piss without the woman popping up behind me!”

  “Why didn’t you come and find me, then?”

  “I tried, but you weren’t there! I had no idea where you went or how long you’d be gone. As it is, I roamed the halls searching for you for nearly an hour.”

  “I was out walking the grounds, which is how I came to see you climbing through the window. You could have waited for me to return.”

  “I’ve known you to spend entire nights out ‘thinking.’ In any case, you can’t help me. Amelia is as closed with you as she is with everyone else. I had to speak to Victoria. She’s the only one who knows her well enough to help me.”

  “It doesn’t matter, now!” Victoria hissed at them, eyeing the door nervously. “All that matters is that if she catches you here, either of you, but especially you, Julius, the game is up!”

  “At this point, I don’t really give a damn,” he growled. “I only know that I never want to catch another man climbing through your window again. We end this farce tomorrow.”

  “It’s too soon, it’ll never work. We have to stick to the plan and—”

  “No! No more of this insanity. It’s getting too dangerous,” Julius rasped, stabbing a finger at Withington. “If he’d been caught in here, the scandal would have forced a marriage between you. This ends tomorrow.”

  “How?”

  “You and I shall disappear together during the hunt, as planned. I know the idea was to start raising questions, but we must now hasten that process. Instead of being gone only an hour, we shall stay in hiding until nearer to sundown. Such a prolonged absence without a proper chaperone should take care of the matter.”

  “And what of Amelia?” demanded Victoria. “She’ll be utterly humiliated when you throw her over for me!”

  “I’m sorry, Victoria, but we have no other choice. This cannot continue.”

  “I’ll occupy her,” offered Withington. “I’ll feign an injury. While I’m recuperating, I’ll let her think she’s succeeding in distracting me from pursuing you. Once I’m certain—that is, after you’ve been away for a suitable amount of time—I’ll tell her the truth, try to explain myself, and hope for the best.”

  Going to him, Victoria stood on tiptoe and placed a kiss on his glowing cheek. “You’re a good man, Withy. I shall never forget what you’ve done. You ought to be sainted, truly. I’m so sorry you’ve been treated so shabbily, and I hope she sees the truth of it and realizes her mistake.”

  Grinning awkwardly, Withy went to the window. “I’ll leave the same way I came in, just to be safe. Care to accompany me?” he asked, pushing aside the curtains and opening the latch.

  “I shall take the more dignified exit,” Julius said with a soft chuckle. “After all, if I’m caught here, it can only work to my advantage.”

  Giving them a dashing salute, Withy stepped off the sill and into the darkness. The rustling of leaves, snapping of twigs, and a few muttered curses reached them as he struggled to find the elusive handholds in the dark.

  Victoria giggled softly as she heard a thump, followed by a renewed flurry of curses from below.

  Julius moved in behind her and ran a hand along the curve of her neck.

  She shivered. “You’d better leave,” she said thickly. “Amelia might decide to pop in for a surprise inspection at any moment.”

  “I was as silent as death coming in here. Relax.” His hands moved over her shoulders, his lips caressing the tip of her ear. “Is there a place where we can hide in safety for a few hours tomorrow?”

  “We can double back and hide in the village.”

  “You are too well known there. Someone would surely recognize you and run back here with the tale.”

  “Well…” she hesitated. “There is one place. There is an abandoned cottage in a sheltered valley on the downs a few miles from where you found me the last time. It’s no more than a bare shelter from the elements, but I’ve stored some blankets and dry firewood there, just in case anything ever happened while I was out riding.”

  “How far is it, exactly?”

  “Eight miles or so from here.”

  “Eight miles? You ride that far alone?” he asked, incredulous. “Your father is insane to allow such a thing!” Seeing her wry expression, he realized she hadn’t actually sought permission. “Does anyone else know of its existence?”

  She shook her head. “If they did, they’ve long forgotten it, and I’ve seen no reason to remind them.”

  “It’ll do.” Bending, he gently took her mouth, sealing the pact. The tip of her tongue ventured out to brush against his bottom lip, and he shuddered, tightening his hold.

  A knock at the door made Victoria’s eyes pop open with instant panic. “It’s Amelia!” she whispered, shoving him away. “One moment,” she called aloud, propelling him toward the window.

  Climbing over the sill as quickly and quietly as possible, Julius stepped out onto the limb. There would be no end to the indignity he would suffer should he fall—or to the scandal if he were caught.

  Just as her unexpected guest disappeared behind the bole of the tree, Victoria’s door opened.

  Hannah poked her head inside. “Good evening, my lady. I came to see to your bath.”

  “I sent for no bath,” Victoria replied, confused.

  “Didn’t you, my lady? Your sister said you wanted one immediately, that you thought it might help you to rest, as the tea had not worked.”

  Victoria seethed. Amelia had planned her sabotage thoroughly, making certain she was unable to leave her chambers.

  The girl entered, her arms laden with sheets. She was followed by several footmen bearing buckets of warm water. Spying the open window, Hannah crossed the room and closed it. “You’ll catch your death, my lady!”

  “It was stuffy in here, and I desired some fresh air,” Victoria told her. Her lying lips still tingled from Julius’s kiss.

  “Night air is unhealthy, mistress, and now your room is cold,” fussed Hannah. “You cannot bathe in a frigid room, my lady. I’ll have more wood brought up for the fire.” She sent one of the footmen. “We’ll have it warmed again in no time, my lady.”

  “Thank you, Hannah.” With little other choice, she decided to enjoy her unexpected bath.

  The next morning, having slept little and poorly despite her evening bath, Victoria was up and about long before Hannah arrived with breakfast. The girl helped her dress, and then expertly coiled her shining tresses, pinning the smart little hat in place.

  The moment she left, Victoria hiked her skirts, got rid of all but one of the woolen petticoats beneath, and pulled on her new breeches. She marveled at how much more comfortable she was without all the extra weight. Perhaps she would set a new trend once she was married to Julius. The idea made her smile in anticipation.

  Her joy was quickly deflated at the sight of her sister awaiting her at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Did you enjoy your bath?”

  “Immensely,” Victoria answered sweetly, determined not to rise to the bait. “In fact, I can’t thank you enough for your thoughtful consideration.”

  “I’m so very glad it helped you to rest,” snapped Amelia, her calm demeanor vanishing in a flash. “I’m no fool, Victoria. I’m perfectly aware of your nocturnal visitation. Tell me, did he climb to your window like Romeo and whisper to you of love? Or toss an impassioned letter across the divide, perhaps? At least I can be certain he wasn’t actually in your room!”

  The blood began to
hiss faintly in Victoria’s ears. “You know nothing, Amelia. Nothing!”

  “Oh? I know more than you think. Hannah mentioned you’d been ‘enjoying the fresh air’ when she came in, and one of the groundskeepers told me this morning that Withington was seen by a footman coming back in through the garden entrance last night—about the same time as your bath arrived. You should know by now that nothing happens in this house without my knowledge!”

  With great effort, Victoria calmed herself, electing to retreat rather than give Amelia the satisfaction of seeing her lose her temper. She swept past with her head high, almost wishing she could be there to see the look on her sister’s face when she finally discovered the truth.

  Marching to the stables, she retrieved Primero, already saddled and waiting for her, thanks to Charlie. Mounting him, she rode out, scanning the throng for Julius.

  A thrill raced through her when she found him. He looked terribly handsome in his pinks, with the sunrise setting his russet hair aflame. His mount was a truly massive, gorgeous chestnut Andalusian. It could only be his Sir Handel.

  Withy trotted up, blocking her view. “I’ll stay ahead of her and take a tumble at the first jump,” he murmured. “You run at the fore and don’t look back. Just trust that I’ll take care of it.”

  “Thank you, Withy. I promise to repay you for your kindness someday.”

  “The only compensation I want is a position as best man at your wedding.”

  Swallowing past the sudden lump in her throat, she nodded solemnly. “We’ll return at sunset. By then, they’ll have no choice but to allow us to marry, and you’ll be off the hook.”

  “I’m glad for you both, even if I’m a bit jealous,” he replied. “Would that I was the recipient of such tender sentiment from your sister.”

  Victoria chuckled darkly. “I wish you the best of luck convincing her not to murder you in cold blood when you tell her the truth. I don’t at all envy you the task.”

  “I’ll manage. At least I’ll finally have a chance to redeem myself in her eyes.”

  “If you survive the ordeal and still wish to become my brother-in-law, I shall do my best to aid you in persuading her to accept your offer,” she told him. “If not, I know several ladies of excellent character who would jump at the chance to have such a fine husband.”

  Laughing, he caught up her hand and kissed it. “My lady, it has been a pleasure playing the decoy. That said, I sincerely pray that I shall never again be asked to do so.”

  “Likewise,” she murmured back, catching sight of her sister staring at them from across the field with hard, angry eyes. Withy would be fortunate if he was still breathing by the time they returned.

  Once everyone was mounted, the hounds and terriers were brought out amid a cacophony of excited barking. With a blast of the huntsman’s horn, the dogs were released by the whippers-in, and they were off. The riders at the forefront dashed ahead, taking the First Field position with Victoria, Julius, and Withington among them.

  Withington stayed near her at first and pretended to have difficulty with his mount, falling behind. When they reached the stone wall dividing the parkland from the pastures, he was far behind her.

  Victoria and Primero jumped the wall. Before she reached the crest of the hill beyond it, she turned and watched as Withington dug in his heels and hauled back on the reins. Silvertail reared, and his rider slid to the ground, landing on his rump in a most undignified manner. Withington rose and dusted himself off, but then began hopping up and down on one foot just as Amelia appeared. Her sister slowed and halted beside him, dismounting.

  Perfect. As hostess, Amelia had no choice but to stop and render assistance.

  Grinning, Victoria turned Primero and urged him on.

  AFTER RIDING A while amid the crowd, Victoria slowly fell back behind the rest of the riders in their group, followed soon after by Julius. At the first turn that put them out of sight of those following, she veered off into the trees with him close on her heels. Immediately, she hitched up her skirt and swung a leg over the pommel to sit astride.

  Quickly but carefully she picked her way down the narrow game trail leading through a half-mile-wide strip of forest to the open downs. Reaching the edge of the wood, she gave Primero his head, and they raced across the slope toward rolling hills riddled with low stone walls.

  Leaning over her mount’s neck, Victoria tucked her knees, reveling in the free wind that snatched her hat away to send it flying. Venturing a look behind her, she laughed—Julius was struggling to keep up.

  “Good boy, Primero,” she murmured. Taking pity on her intended, she slowed just enough to let him catch up.

  The pair rode in companionable silence for nearly an hour, keeping an easy pace, until at last a dense knot of trees appeared in a sheltered dip in the landscape.

  Stopping on the crest above, Victoria checked first to be certain there was no smoke rising from the dell. Though she’d never before encountered anyone here, she didn’t believe in taking foolish chances.

  As they progressed down into the valley, a tiny cottage was revealed. Nestled amid the gnarled and twisted trees, the little hut stood, its thatched roof in a sad state of disrepair. Still, it was better than no shelter at all.

  Victoria dismounted, unhooked her saddlebags, and immediately went in. The door opened with much protest. She would need to repair the hinges soon, or there would be no door. The room was dank and gloomy, making her miss the wind and sunlight. Heading straight for the fireplace, she snatched the tinderbox from the low stone mantel.

  “Here, let me.” Julius took it from her chilled hands.

  Victoria watched as he knelt and took in the pile of shavings and kindling she’d laid in the hearth the last time she’d been here, the wood stacked to the side, and the neatly swept floor. His eyes moved to the makeshift curtains at the window and the chipped cup filled with dried flowers sitting on the rickety old table.

  “Did you do all of this yourself?”

  Victoria smiled and opened a small wooden chest, drawing from it several old woolen blankets, two worn quilts, and a handful of candles. “No one else knows of this place. If they did, I imagine there would be people here. I have never seen anyone.” She spread the blankets on the floor near the hearth as he struck a spark and nursed the tiny flame into a small, warming blaze.

  There was no bed in the cottage. The wooden frame had been broken long ago and most of it used for firewood. The remaining pieces she had used to shore up the wall on one side.

  She took a small, dented kettle down from a hook by the hearth. The frost had been on the ground when they’d left Richmond Manor, and she was chilled to the bone from their long ride. “I’ll fetch us some water. I’ve some tea in my saddlebags. No cream or sugar, mind you, but at least it’ll be hot.”

  He nodded. “Be careful.”

  The stream was icy cold, and the sky between the branches above looked heavy with the threat of snow. She hoped she hadn’t made a mistake in bringing them so far. Eight miles wasn’t a great distance, but bad weather would make the ride back extremely difficult, if not impossible.

  They were far from any help. The nearest village was another five or six miles due east, and there was not enough firewood to last more than a night. The food in her saddlebags was meager fare indeed as well—no more than a small loaf, some cheese, and a flask of wine. She’d foolishly only prepared for a few hours’ absence.

  Cursing quietly, she stopped to pick up several more branches of dry wood on the way back to the cottage, just in case. When she arrived, she smiled to see Julius outside with another armload of wood himself. He dumped it by the door and went back to Handel, removed his saddlebags, and carried them inside.

  Following, she saw that he, too, had brought provisions.

  He pulled an additional woolen blanket out of his bag. “I didn’t know what the conditions would be like. It’s still fairly early in the spring, so I thought it best to be prepared for anything.”

&
nbsp; In the warm glow of the firelight, Victoria thought her lonely little hideaway looked almost cozy. She went over and again opened the little chest, removing a stack of extra clothes and another blanket.

  “Exactly how long have you been coming here?” he asked, poking at the little fire to shift a log.

  “I found it about three years ago and started visiting whenever I could get away. No one has lived here for years, so I thought I might as well make use of it.”

  “And you’ve maintained it yourself?”

  “Mmm.” She spread out the blanket and tugged at a corner, straightening out the rumples. “I had a bit of trouble with the roof last summer after a storm, but most of the holes are now patched. The ones I could reach I covered with oilcloth, so we’ll be relatively dry if it rains, as long as we stay on this side of the room.”

  His hands stilled. “You were out here in the middle of nowhere climbing around on an old, thatched roof. Alone. What if you’d fallen?”

  “I’d have had Primero take me home,” she answered absently. “He knows the way back.”

  “And what if someone had happened upon you out here all alone?” His voice had taken on an angry edge.

  Victoria smiled as she removed her cloak. “I’ve a pistol. I know how to use it.”

  He crossed the room in two strides. “You little fool! You could have been killed! What if a band of ruffians decided to use this place to hide? A single shot wouldn’t be enough, even if you managed to actually hit one of them! What if there were five, or ten of them?”

  Arms akimbo, she faced him. “If I spent my entire life worrying about ‘what ifs,’ I’d never leave my chamber! I’m careful enough. I’ve been coming here for ages and I know the area. I also know enough to look for signs that people are about. No one has ridden this way in weeks, not since I was last here!”

  He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “When we are wed, you will never do such a thing again.”