Chapter 20 #2
It was only a few minutes later that David, his stomach turning this way and that, drew the attention of the entire ballroom. Aware of the tremor in his frame and willing it down, he drew in a deep breath and smiled broadly.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, as every eye turned towards him, smiles on almost every face.
“Might I begin by thanking you for coming to join me this evening at my engagement ball. It has been a wonderful evening thus far, and we have a good many more dances and the like to enjoy before it comes to an end.”
“Ah, but where is your betrothed?” a voice called, sending a prickle of unease down David’s spine.
Was that Rathbone shouting at him, hiding himself in amongst the crowd?
Or some fop doing what he could to draw a trifle more attention to himself?
A murmur rang around the room, and David forced a smile, trying to remain outwardly calm and nonchalant.
“Indeed, that is a question one must ask, given that there ought to be both a lady and a gentleman present at an engagement ball,” he replied, as a few chuckles met him.
“You are looking for my betrothed, Miss Frederica Longleat, no doubt. As you might all be aware, her father, the late Viscount Cheltenham, became ill shortly after our engagement was announced. He died not too long after the beginning of that illness, and thus, she is still presently in mourning.” Looking around the room, he tried to catch sight of Lord Broadford but could see nothing, no familiar face looking back at him.
There were too many faces present, all blurring together as he fought to find the right words to speak.
This was the moment. The moment that Lord Broadford would capture Rathbone and, in his surprise, hold him fast before he could do any further harm.
“What very few of you are aware, however, is that the reason for our engagement came about by my uncle’s demand.
He informed me one night that a codicil had been written and added to his will, stating that I was to wed Miss Longleat.
There were a few considerations to settle, but the matter was clear.
I had no choice but to engage myself to the lady.
That was a somewhat difficult time, since Lord Cheltenham became so unwell shortly thereafter.
It is also the reason why we have not married as yet.
” He spun around slowly, spreading his arms wide.
“You can imagine my shock, however, when I spoke to my solicitors, only to discover that there was no codicil attached to the will, as my uncle had informed me.”
The response to this was immediate. Murmurs began at once, a few gasps breaking through the crowd.
“I informed Miss Longleat of this,” David continued, quietening the room again, “but she very much desired to continue with our engagement. I could not fully understand her reasoning, however. It was not until I realized that she was being threatened by another fellow that my understanding of her fear became clear.” David knew he had the attention of every single person in the room now, for the air was thick and heavy, every eye lit with curiosity.
Taking a deep breath and setting back his shoulders, he prayed silently that Lord Broadford was in position and ready to act.
“One of my uncle’s solicitors had taken it upon himself to threaten my uncle. ”
A sudden commotion to his left drew David’s attention.
Spinning to one side, he held out one arm, his finger pointing in that direction.
“That man there, Mr. Rathbone, was the fellow responsible.” He was forced to speak more loudly now, his voice filling the room and covering over the many exclamations and sounds of astonishment that followed from the crowd.
“He demanded not only wealth and land from my uncle but also that he be permitted to marry Miss Longleat. That was why my uncle insisted that we wed. I think he had every intention of writing the codicil, but his ill health prevented him from doing so.”
“Unhand me!”
But Rathbone did not submit. The commotion to David’s left was not the clean, decisive capture he had planned — it was chaos.
Rathbone wrenched free of Lord Broadford’s grip with a violence that sent a woman nearby stumbling sideways, her wine glass shattering on the marble floor.
A collective gasp rolled through the ballroom.
“You think you can expose me?” Rathbone’s voice cut through the murmurs, raw and rasping, stripped of any pretense of civility.
He was moving through the crowd now, shoving past a startled gentleman, his eyes fixed on David with an intensity that made the breath lock in David’s chest. “You think yourself better than me, Hampshire? Your uncle was no better. Ask him — oh, but you cannot, can you? Ask him who kept his secrets for twelve years while he played the noble lord.”
Someone screamed. The crowd was pressing back, opening a path between Rathbone and the dais where David stood, and Rathbone was walking down it — not running, walking, with that terrible deliberate stride David had come to dread.
He reached inside his coat.
David’s blood went cold. Time slowed to a crawl, his vision narrowing to the movement of Rathbone’s hand, the glint of something at his waistcoat — a letter? A weapon? David could not tell, and in that half-second of uncertainty, the ballroom seemed to hold its breath.
Rathbone pulled out a folded document and thrust it forward like a blade. “Your uncle’s promise,” he snarled. “Signed in his own hand. Land. Coin. Frederica. He swore it to me — do you hear? He swore it!”
The paper trembled in Rathbone’s fist. And for one lurching moment, David saw the man behind the menace — the clerk who had done the dirty work, who had been promised payment and then discarded, who had motherless children somewhere waiting on the coin that would never come — and he understood, with a clarity that chilled him, that Rathbone truly believed he was the wronged party.
But the moment passed. Lord Broadford struck from behind — not gently, not with a polite hand on the shoulder, but with both arms locking around Rathbone’s chest, dragging him backward and off balance.
Two footmen materialized from the crowd and seized Rathbone’s arms. Then two more.
Rathbone fought like a cornered animal, kicking at the marble, his shouts fragmenting into wordless fury, but against four pairs of hands and Broadford’s unyielding grip, even his desperate strength was not enough.
“Rathbone did more than what I have described,” David continued, as the crowd turned back to face him despite Rathbone’s ongoing exclamations.
“He then threatened Miss Longleat, insisting that she break her engagement and marry him instead — as her father had originally promised. Little wonder that she was so very afraid! When she would not, Mr. Rathbone tried to do her harm.” He did not go into particular detail, having no desire to injure Frederica’s reputation in any way.
The reaction from the gathered crowd was enough.
They all turned, as one, to look at Rathbone, who was still struggling against the footmen’s hold upon him.
“Even tonight, he has come here in the hope of doing something nefarious to either force my hand or injure Miss Longleat. I can tell you now, Rathbone, that you shall never again be able to do such a thing. Your control of Miss Longleat is at an end. You will not gain a single penny from me, you will take none of the Cheltenham land for yourself, and you most certainly will have no hold upon Miss Longleat. You have failed, Rathbone. Failed utterly, and now the consequences of your actions will fall upon you.”
At this, Rathbone let out a furious snarl and lurched forward, forcing the four footmen to grip onto him all the more tightly.
“Take him from this ballroom,” David stated, as the rest of the gathered crowd continued to exclaim over what had occurred. “You know where to take him.”
The furor that ran around the room as Rathbone was taken from it was so great, David feared he would not be able to regain control.
He stood as tall as he could, watching as the footmen half-drag, half-push Rathbone from the room, with Lord Broadford following behind.
A swirling relief settled right through him, letting him breathe with an ease that had not been there for some time.
His eyes caught Nora’s, seeing her hands clasped under her chin, a brilliant smile on her face, and a sparkling light in her eyes.
His chest rose and fell in a settled, calming rhythm as, with great slowness, the crowd around him slowly began to quieten.
Lord Broadford, returning from overseeing Rathbone’s removal, caught David’s arm as he passed.
“He is bound for Newgate,” he said quietly, his voice pitched for David’s ears alone.
“I have spoken with the magistrate myself. The charges will be kidnapping, extortion and attempted murder, and with your testimony, Frederica’s, and the documents found upon him at the ball, there will be no question of the verdict.
He will trouble no one in this country again, Hampshire. You may put it from your mind.”
David’s shoulders eased a fraction. “Thank you, Broadford. For all of it.”
“You may thank me in due course.” Broadford’s eyes flicked to the crowd. “You do realise that you have just aired your family’s private affairs before half of London. Your uncle’s manipulation, the codicil, Rathbone — there will be talk, Hampshire. A good deal of it.”
“I know.” David met his friend’s gaze steadily. “But the alternative was to let Rathbone continue his work in shadow, and I find I have had quite enough of shadows.”
Broadford held his gaze for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Then you had better make certain the rest of the evening is worth the scandal.”
David turned back to the assembled crowd.
“Might I all beg for even a few more minutes of your attention? Then we can return to the dancing. I know it is a great shock to you all, but let me say more – more that will astonish you further, I am sure!”
That certainly garnered the attention of everyone, for each person fell silent, and even the most ardent whisperers ceased their chatter.
David waited for another few moments until he was certain every attention was fixed on him.
Then, drawing in air into his lungs, he spread out his arms wide.
“Miss Longleat and I are no longer engaged.”
A ripple of astonishment ran across the gathered crowd.
“We did not care for each other,” he continued, lifting his voice a little so that no one would think to speak over him.
“Not in the way that a husband and wife should. Miss Longleat did not have opportunity to make her own choice; nor did I. The codicil took that from us – but once we saw the codicil was not written into Lord Cheltenham’s will, we were offered freedom.
There is no requirement for us now to wed, and thus, we have decided to part.
Miss Longleat is to make her own decision – as am I. ”
“But this is an engagement ball!” a lady near him exclaimed, her eyes bright with curiosity. “Are you here to tell us that you are no longer engaged?”
A broad smile settled over David’s face, aware that this final declaration would shatter the crowd with an even greater astonishment than before.
“I am telling you all that I am no longer engaged to Miss Longleat,” he said, firmly.
“However, I am now engaged… to Lady Nora.” Holding out one hand to her, he watched every person in the room turn at once to see if they could spy her.
Nora, however, had her eyes fixed on his, her expression alive with joy and delight.
David moved towards her, unable to stay away from her for another moment.
A twinge of guilt over all she had endured tripped over his heart, but he ignored it, pushing it aside as best he could.
“My darling Nora,” he said, as the crowd pressed in around them. “I think it might well be time for another dance. What say you?”
She laughed and took his hand, seemingly oblivious to the other guests watching them. “I would never refuse you,” she said, as he led her to the centre of the room. “Besides, this is our engagement ball, is it not?”
“Indeed it is,” he replied, as the orchestra prepared to begin the next piece. “Which means, I think, that we dance just as many dances together as we please.”