Chapter 14
The final miles to Lushington Hall had passed in tense silence, broken only by the rhythmic drumming of hooves. Nicholas stared out at the darkening countryside.
Whatever Arabella had done to him—even if it was to meet a lover—she did not deserve to fall victim to a villain like Algernon, the new Lord Lushington.
That’s if their suspicions were correct.
As Lushington Hall came into view—an imposing Jacobean manor silhouetted against the twilight sky—Nicholas’s resolve crystallized. The windows glowed with warm candlelight, giving the house an air of peaceful domesticity that he somehow doubted reflected the reality within.
“Remember,” Lady Fenton cautioned them as they prepared to alight, “we don’t know for certain that our suspicions are correct. We must proceed carefully.”
“Carefully, yes,” Nicholas agreed, adding grimly, “but decisively if our fears prove founded.”
The front door opened before they had even reached it, revealing Algernon Lushington himself, wearing an expression of mild surprise that didn’t quite reach his calculating eyes, as if he were about to step out, though he was not wearing outerwear.
“My dear Lady Quamby! What an unexpected pleasure. And Mr Morley! What brings you to Lushington Hall at such an hour?”
“Our concerns for Lady Lushington,” Lady Quamby said with her most charming smile, though Nicholas noticed the steel beneath her sweetness.
“Concerns? But she is perfectly fine. Please, do come in.” Algernon stepped aside before leading them into the drawing room where a fire crackled welcomingly. “I’m afraid dear Arabella is resting at the moment. The journey quite exhausted her.”
“Resting?” Nicholas echoed, accepting a glass of brandy while studying their host’s face carefully. “I thought you said she was perfectly fine.”
“Initially, but after a fit of the vapours, she took to her bed. I do recall my cousin saying she was prone to fits of emotional distress.”
“Emotional distress?” Lady Fenton repeated. “Whatever could have upset her so?”
A slight smile played at the corners of Algernon’s mouth. “I’m afraid she received some rather disappointing news regarding a certain... romantic attachment. It seems the gentleman in question was not as devoted as she had believed.”
Nicholas felt the barb hit its mark but managed to keep his expression neutral. “How unfortunate for her.”
“Indeed. Though perhaps it’s for the best. Arabella has always been rather impulsive when it comes to matters of the heart. Not always the best judge of character.” Algernon’s gaze lingered meaningfully on Nicholas.
“You speak as though you know her well,” Colonel Shankshaft observed, settling into his chair.
“We are family, after all. I’ve made it my business to look after her interests since my uncle’s death. She’s been quite... vulnerable lately. Grief affects people differently, you understand.”
“Vulnerable how?” Lady Quamby asked with innocent curiosity.
“Oh, the usual feminine weaknesses. Difficulty managing financial matters, susceptibility to unsuitable influences, a tendency toward... shall we say, questionable decisions.” Algernon took a sip of his brandy.
“I’ve been helping her with the more complex aspects of her inheritance.
Protecting her from those who might take advantage. ”
“How good of you,” Nicholas said quietly. “And she’s comfortable with these arrangements?”
“Grateful, in fact. Though, as I said, she can be rather emotional. You know how ladies are when it comes to business matters. They prefer to leave such things to gentlemen with more experience.”
“Even when it concerns their own property?” Lady Fenton inquired.
“Especially then. Arabella has never had a head for figures. Much better to have someone reliable managing things for her.”
Nicholas exchanged glances with the others. The picture Algernon was painting—of a grief-stricken, incompetent woman in need of masculine guidance—rang false in every particular. Arabella might be many things, but stupid was not one of them.
“I don’t suppose we might see her?” Antoinette asked hopefully. “Just to ensure she’s quite well? We feel somewhat responsible, having let her travel alone in such weather.”
“I’m afraid she’s sleeping quite soundly. The physician gave her something to help with her nerves. Perhaps tomorrow would be better.”
“The physician?” Nicholas’s voice sharpened.
“Nothing serious. Merely the sort of nervous complaint that affects ladies of delicate sensibilities. Dr. Morrison assured me that rest and quiet were the best remedies.”
Another lie, Nicholas was certain before shrugging. “Well,” he said with deliberate callousness, “perhaps a period of quiet reflection will do her good. God knows she could use some time to consider the consequences of her actions.”
Algernon’s eyes brightened. “You sound as though you speak from personal experience, Mr. Morley.”
“I do.” Nicholas allowed a note of bitterness to creep into his voice. “Lady Lushington has a particular talent for disappointing those who trust her.”
“Ah.” Algernon leaned forward, clearly sensing an opportunity. “Another disappointed suitor?
“I was fool enough to believe her professions of affection, yes. Until I discovered she had other priorities. Money and title being among them.”
“My condolences. Though hardly surprising, given her history.”
“Her history?” Nicholas prompted, though every word felt like acid on his tongue.
“Oh, surely you know? The circumstances of her first marriage? She abandoned her previous engagement virtually on the eve of marriage—for financial considerations, one assumes. My uncle was considerably wealthier than her first choice.”
Nicholas clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to plant his fist in Algernon’s smirking face. Instead, he forced himself to nod as though the information confirmed his worst suspicions.
“I was the abandoned bridegroom,” he said bitterly. “A woman who chooses wealth over loyalty can hardly complain when she finds herself at the mercy of others’ financial interests. She is merely getting what she deserves.”
The words tasted like poison, but they had the desired effect. Algernon’s smile widened, and he raised his glass in a mock toast.
“Precisely my thoughts, Mr. Morley. It’s refreshing to meet a gentleman who sees Arabella’s character clearly, rather than being taken in by her charms.”
“Oh, I see her very clearly indeed,” Nicholas said grimly. “The question is—what exactly do you intend to do about her situation?”
“Nothing more than any responsible family member would do. Ensure she’s cared for, protected from her own poor judgment, kept from making further mistakes that might damage what remains of her reputation.”
“I see you intend to be very…thorough.”
“I believe in being comprehensive in my responsibilities. Arabella requires... guidance. And I intend to provide it, for as long as necessary.”
The threat in those words was unmistakable. Nicholas felt his blood run cold, but he managed to maintain his facade of callous indifference.
“Well,” he said, rising from his chair, “justice takes many forms.” He looked about at the others, their faces bland, for they were not stupid and were taking their cues from Nicholas.
“The truth is that we followed Arabella here in order to bring her to account after a rumour that she was off to meet some other unfortunate suitor.” He gave a careless shrug.
“I would say that she’s brought whatever consequences she faces upon herself. ”
Nicholas caught Lady Quamby’s eye and saw his own grim understanding reflected there. They had confirmed their worst suspicions—Arabella was indeed Algernon’s prisoner, and the man had just revealed his intention to keep her so indefinitely.
Now came the truly dangerous part: convincing Algernon that he was an ally rather than a threat, long enough to find Arabella and get her safely away from this place.