Chapter 13
Thirteen
Honeyfield House was in darkness when Sir Pennyworth’s carriage drew into the elm-lined driveway.
“We must have missed him on the road,” muttered Mr Dunlop.
He sounded peevish, and Hugh could tell the man wanted his bed.
The brandy had made him less attuned to their task for the evening, and although he’d peered out of the carriage window during their journey, there had been nothing to indicate that Swain Cove was anything other than a sleepy village with no one about in the middle of the night.
The driveway was long and narrow, and there was no means of turning before they reached the front of the house.
Sir Pennyworth shrugged. “I daresay it would have been prudent to have checked that he’d not returned to the inn before we embarked on this futile journey.” Nevertheless, he seemed unconcerned.
And unaffected by the brandy which had the excisemen nearly asleep against the squabs.
The carriage reached the end of the drive, and the coachman steered the horses around the turning circle.
They might have continued back down the way they’d come with no more to be said.
No, there was nothing to find here, and no opportunity for Hugh to cast a pebble at Charlotte’s window.
It had been a foolish idea from the start.
He would not see Charlotte again before—
“Stop!” He leant forward, issuing the command before he had time to think, rapping on the roof and causing the magistrate to open his eyes in surprise.
The coachman responded to the command, the horses halting abruptly amidst a jangle of leather and harness, while the men frowned, obviously wondering what had caused Hugh such angst.
Not that Hugh gave any thought to the horses. Or the other men. Or Sir Pennyworth, who was frowning with concern as Hugh fumbled with the door handle in his haste to hurl himself into the night.
For time was of the essence in view of the horrors he saw being perpetuated before his very eyes.
And which might have remained hidden had the clouds not parted overhead and revealed the whereabouts of the errant Mr Barton who was not on the road returning home.
And was not fast asleep in his bed in the tavern.
But who, instead, had his arms about Hugh’s beloved Charlotte, whom the filthy villain was attempting to kiss and fondle.
And ravish.
Her light hair was bright in the moonlight as she struggled to push him away, her cries not loud enough to have alerted passersby due to the vigorous attempts of Barton to drown her protests with the force of his amorous desires.
But Hugh could hear very clearly that she was nearly hysterical with terror as she was worn down by the villain’s rough attempts to get what he wanted.
“Stop!” Hugh shouted loudly a second time as he covered the lawn towards the shrubbery near the house at breakneck speed. “Unhand the lady!”
He was ignored.
A nasty sneer split Barton’s face as he looked up, Charlotte sagging in his arms before she snapped upright and tried to disengage herself.
“You’re interrupting a lover’s tryst,” said Barton, tightening his hold on Charlotte.
“Can you not see we’re enjoying a private moment outside?
” He indicated the great outdoors. “Do you think I dragged her from her bed when we were both guests here not two hours ago? Why, of course, she came here willingly. How can she be here, in the gardens, and for it not to be otherwise?”
“Oh, Hugh! I thought it was you throwing pebbles at my window,” Charlotte sobbed. “I didn’t come out here to meet this man. You mustn’t think it!”
“I don’t think it for a moment!” Breathless with outrage, Hugh balled his fists and hunched his shoulders as menacingly as he could, for indeed Mr Dunlop was considerably broader of girth and thicker of muscle than Hugh.
“Oh, so you want to take me on, do you? Barton laughed. “A sapling like you? Well, embarrass yourself in front of the lady if you like, but you’ll wish you had not brought this on yourself.”
Fisting one meaty hand, Barton swung it in Hugh’s direction, clipping the side of his cheek and causing Hugh to crumple.
Dazed, feeling like a complete fool, Hugh stared up from the ground at the two faces peering down at him.
Charlotte, wide-eyed with horror, and Barton, grinning with pride and victory and who now reached down a hand to haul him up, saying in a conciliatory tone, “Well, now, I daresay I acted a little hastily.”
“Oh, Hugh!” Charlotte had disengaged herself while Barton was still speaking, and now she threw herself into Hugh’s arms. Twining her hands behind his neck, she bought his face down to kiss before burying her own against his chest and releasing her breath in a sob of relief.
Hugh held her tightly. “You hardly thought she was coming out to see you when you’d only just met her this evening?” he asked. “Why, she was screaming for you to let her go.”
“Aye, she was screaming, but I never heard her say to let her go.” Barton narrowed his eyes. “You mean she was coming out in the dark to see you? You, who had left more than an hour before? Don’t blame a fellow for coming to the wrong conclusion.” He looked angry and suddenly embarrassed.
“Of course she wasn’t coming out to see me,” Hugh said quickly, for he was aware that they had been joined by Sir Pennyworth and the two excisemen and it would not do to tarnish Charlotte’s reputation.
“Then what was she doing creeping about in the dark if it wasn’t to meet a lover, eh?” The man was turning belligerent, and Hugh felt the situation spiral out of his control. Preserving Charlotte’s reputation must be his greatest priority.
“Miss Stanbridge is a young lady of impeccable character and you’d do well to remember that,” Hugh muttered.
Barton raised a sceptical brow. “The way she smiled at me this evening, a fellow could be forgiven for thinking this is just what the lady wanted.”
Dismay needled in Hugh’s gut. It was true that Charlotte had been under instructions to entice Barton to remain longer than he would otherwise at Honeyfield House. Only Hugh and Charlotte knew the reasons why she’d behaved so out of character.
Hugh dropped his hands and stepped back while the other gentlemen regarded Charlotte as if they did not know what to think.
This was the moment he would lose her forever, he thought. She would have to act very properly if she was to receive Ravensby’s wedding proposal which he now realised was now her only means of keeping a roof over her head.
Instead, with a soft whimper, she threw herself into Hugh’s arms, before turning, and running back to the house.