An Inconvenient Engagement Read online

  “Goodbye, Miss Denham.”

  “Goodbye, Sir William. Thank you for everything.” She walked beside him out the door and onto the front porch.

  “It was my honor.” He helped her into the carriage and shut the door. For a moment, they looked in each other’s eyes, and the remembrance of their kiss was alive between them. Then, he patted the roof, and the driver chirruped to the horses. She was on her way home.

  The carriage slipped from side to side in the mud, and once seemed to get stuck, but the skilled driver was able to free it. Lytchley went by as they made their way slowly down the main street, then up and around, over the bridge with Little Cottage just ahead on the left. She felt the carriage stop and had to remind herself to sit still until the door was opened. When she appeared, it was to see Uncle and Bessie clustered in the doorway looking happy and relieved.

  “Ah, Eliza, it is so good to have you home again.” Eliza stepped across the yard with skirts lifted clear of the snowy mud. Both of them looked weary from worry. She was not much better, and her Uncle was concerned to see her own eyes ringed from strain and lack of sleep, cheeks pale from her ordeal. But here she was home, hands outstretched to her family.

  “Dear Uncle! How is my poor aunt?” She let Bessie take her wraps and give her a quick hug.

  Alastair looked grave. “Very ill, I am afraid. I sent a note, but with the roads as they are I have been unable to call.” He paused. “It is possible that Alice was merely caught, like yourself, in the storm and will be found just as safe.”

  “That is not likely, sir, as she was missing long before the storm. Have they looked by the bridge? I found her cloak there…”

  “Nothing so far. We are hopeful that she has merely eloped.”

  “Who could she have eloped with? Are any young men yet unaccounted for?”

  Her uncle was growing distressed. “No, but as they live on the road to Stanton, it is possible that there was some young man as yet unknown.”

  Eliza was silent, and her uncle gripped her hands hard and said, “But, however, we are happy to have you safe.”

  She kissed him. “I as well! And I am happy to be home. But for the moment, I need to change into a different gown. I have worn this same one for four days!”

  As she changed, she realized that he still did not know about Mr. Waddell’s proposal. Heart heavy, she changed and went downstairs to tell him. She found him in the parlor, his own room in the made-over conservatory being too cold in this weather for reading. She sat near him and said, “Uncle, I must tell you something.”

  He looked up. “Yes, my dear?”

  “Mr. Waddell paid me a visit while you were gone to Stanton.” His eyes lit up, then the light died with her expression.

  “He asked, and I refused.”

  His face fell, and he looked down. “Ah. I had hoped…”

  “I know.”

  “And you really feel you cannot…”

  “No,” she said gently but firmly.

  “I see.” He sighed. “Well, that explains why he has not been to visit since hearing of our misfortune. I had wondered we did not see him when word got out…”

  “I would hope he would not neglect you over this.” There was a touch of anger in her voice.

  He patted her hand and said, “Well, perhaps he won’t. It may just be awkward for him at present.”

  “You are not too disappointed, are you?”

  “Disappointed only because then you would be taken care of should something happen to me. But if you do not like him, then there is nothing more to say.” He smiled sadly at her, and she bent over to kiss him on the forehead.

  It was after lunch on the following day that found Eliza in the garden. The hoe kept sinking into the mud as she tried to pry potatoes out before they became waterlogged with melting snow. The sound of wheels echoed from the direction of the road. She looked up to see Henrietta reining in her pony and stepping down from her little gig. Eliza went to greet her, still holding the potato she had just unearthed.

  “Well, how pleasant! I shall have Cook bake it for my foot warmer this evening.” Eliza looked down, caught sight of the potato and laughed.

  “You have caught me digging the potatoes, as you see. Can you come inside?”

  “Sadly, I cannot leave the pony,” she said as Marches stamped and tossed his head. “I do not trust him this morning. But I was hoping to convince you to ride with me to Tredwell.”

  Eliza’s eyes grew wide. “Tredwell! But…”

  “Yes, I know. News of your adventure has reached Hadring Hall. Indeed, it was hearing your story that put this idea in my head. Something has occurred of a most serious nature, and I fear we may need Sir William’s help.”

  “Henrietta, surely we cannot call upon a gentleman!”

  “But that is why I must have you!” Eliza made to answer but was forestalled. “Nay, listen! You were just there – perhaps it is possible that something of yours was left? And we, going for a pleasant drive after being confined for days thought to stop and ask about it? If we happen to see Sir William, then I can ask my questions.”

  Understanding dawned, and Eliza smiled at Henrietta’s wily mind. She was no less anxious to see him again. Despite all that had happened, she had missed seeing him even if he had ignored her for those last two or three days. “All right,” she said. “Let me change into something more appropriate.”

  She returned several minutes later in her peach day gown, brown bonnet, and pelisse. Henrietta nodded her approval and Eliza climbed into the gig unassisted. Henrietta had to keep the pace slow to avoid the splash back from the wheels on the muddy road. There were rugs aplenty to keep them warm, however, and the sun was shining pleasantly in a truly fickle late fall way.

  They turned down the lane to Tredwell, curving around through the old stone archway and then down and up into the woods of the park. The approach was not a long one, and they soon came up the rise that revealed the whole of the Abbey just ahead. Here, the road was graveled, though narrow, and they made good time.

  A footman stepped out to take the pony’s reins as they stopped, and another came up to help them down. They ascended the short stairway and met the butler at the door. “We are come to inquire after some of Miss Denham’s belongings. If you could please show us to the housekeeper?”

  He bowed and showed them into the nearest parlor. After ringing the bell, he instructed the girl who appeared to bring tea. They waited only a few minutes before Haddely appeared. She curtseyed and greeted them so formally that Eliza was taken aback after the recent intimacy her stay had engendered.

  Eliza had been thinking hard about what she could possibly have left behind but was saved from invention by Haddely herself. “Miss Denham, I am so glad you thought to stop. We found a very fine thimble that you must have had in your pocket. It may have fallen out when we washed your dress.”

  She reached into her own pocket and held out a lovely silver thimble with tiny roses embossed around its rim. Eliza held it and shot a look at Mrs. Haddely, who merely returned the look inscrutably. This was no thimble of hers. She handed it back, but Haddely seemed reluctant to take it. “I am sorry, this is not mine. It is lovely, though.” Eliza was at a complete loss. There was no way the thimble could belong to her, and Haddely must be completely aware of it.

  Haddely thought for a moment, then handed it back, “It must have fallen from the workbag, and since Sir William insisted you keep the bag, this must belong with it.” She stood and rang the bell, then gave instructions to the maid who appeared. Minutes later, the thimble and the old silk knitting bag were pressed into her hands. “Please, Miss,” was all Haddely said.

  Eliza accepted the bag and the thimble. She slowly dropped the latter into the bag and carefully tightened the cords. Henrietta cleared her throat and said quite innocently, “Well, I am so glad that is cleared up! I wonder, since we are here, would I be able to thank Sir William personally for his care of my kinswoman?”

  Haddely�
�s eyes fluttered at this thin excuse against propriety, but she regained complete control and nodded. “I will see if he is available,” and she sailed out.

  Eliza looked at Henrietta who merely smiled nervously and raised her eyebrows. Minutes passed before they heard the unmistakable sound of his approach. Eliza’s heart hammered in her chest to see him again, and then suddenly there he was. He was breathing hard as though he had been running, and he ran a hand through his hair to smooth it. He was dressed in riding clothes, but did not look as though he had been riding. So – he had put off his ride when he had heard of his visitors.

  Actually, he had just mounted and was riding out the back of the stableyard when he had caught sight of the gig in the driveway and inquired. It was while he was dismounting and handing the reins to a groom that the message had come concerning his visitors’ request.

  He tried to address Miss Darrow with the precedence that was hers, but his gaze could barely be restrained from going continually to Miss Denham. He wanted to know what she was feeling, what she was doing here so soon after leaving.

  Henrietta began, “Sir William, perhaps you are aware of Miss Denham’s missing cousin. You can imagine how that has affected her family, and mine as the girl’s family are tenants of my father’s estate.” She waited for Sir William to acknowledge this much, and continued, “The girl, Alice Wetherby’s mother has brought something to our attention. However, my father feels himself unable to act, and I am hoping that you may find it possible to intercede for us.” She did not explain that the “us” was her and Eliza, and not the Darrow family.

  William drew back, and his gaze shot to Eliza who was looking ever so intently at him. “I am at a loss to know what I could do that your father cannot!”

  Henrietta opened her reticule and retrieved a small square of folded paper. This she handed to the baronet and waited while he read it. Eliza was especially curious, for Henrietta had not told her the details surrounding this visit. She saw his eyes go over the words several times, then he folded it silently and handed it back to Henrietta. He stood abruptly and went to the piano where he contemplated the keys for several minutes. Eliza turned questioning eyes to Henrietta who wordlessly handed her the small note.

  “Meet me at 10 pm tonight. Daunton.

  Eliza began shaking suddenly, and Henrietta took the note and gripped her hands. “Oh Alice,” she mouthed silently. Pieces fell instantly into place…seeing Lord Daunton the morning following the ball, Alice refusing to eat during the visit, her aunt’s obvious distress as though she knew something the rest of them did not.

  She covered her mouth, horror at her cousin’s plight striking her silent, then her hand dropped to her lap. Instantly, Sir William was at her side. His hand strayed to hers, and he covered her hands with his own. She gripped his large hand back. He bit his lip, fighting the urge to pull her into his arms. Instead, he merely said,

  “As much as I would like to be of service, I am at a loss to know how to act. I only met Daunton at your ball last Summer.”

  Henrietta replied, “He was not invited to my ball. Rather, he was brought as a friend of Lord Tollingham.”

  “Tollie…” He cleared his throat, “I am a little acquainted with Lord Tollingham.”

  “Yes – I know you were at school together. He must know what Daunton truly is by now, and perhaps he can force him to act.”

  “To do what? Pardon me, but men such as he have been meddling with girls for centuries with very little to stop them. If,” he paused. “If that is what has happened here.”

  Henrietta gave him a knowing look. “But, if you could make Tollie aware, he could then warn his other friends that Daunton is not a man to be trusted. His reputation as a vicious and licentious man could protect other women in the future. We could help prevent this from happening again, and perhaps pressure could be brought on him to make some reparations to Alice’s family.”

  Eliza’s head came up at this, “Reparations! My family would never accept so much as a shilling from that…that….”

  Henrietta leaned forward and put a hand on her arm, “Dear Eliza, of course not. But you cannot deny that there may be many costs involved and Daunton should bear them – if only as some form of punishment and to show some sign of regret.”

  Pride and sensibility warred within her. Unconsciously, she inclined her head toward William, and he tightened his grip on her hand. “You are right, Henrietta,” she said.

  William seemed to realize he was still holding Eliza’s hand and pulled slowly free. “I am fully aware of the honor of your coming to me in this manner. Please leave this with me, and I will act. I promise.” He did not have to add that the outcome would likely be too late.

  Henrietta had been observing the two very closely, and the pieces to a very different puzzle fell into place in her mind. She was suddenly very grieved for she had come to care deeply for her distant cousin. But while she could look beyond her state, this gentleman with the oh, so inconvenient and precipitate engagement could not.

  “I thank you, Sir William, for whatever it is you are able to do in this matter. We will trespass no further on your time.” She pulled the silently crying Eliza to her feet and helped her along, out to the gig, accompanied by Sir William who helped them into it himself. Henrietta helped settle the rugs around Eliza, took the reins in her gloved hands and urged the pony onward.

  William watched them go, then called to a groom crossing the yard, “My horse! Quick man! And get me Rivers!”

  Eliza was grieved beyond words. If only her cousin had confided! If only they could have been friends enough that Alice would have come to her for advice or support. The ride home was tortuously slow. “I don’t know if I can tell uncle this news, and yet he cannot hear it from anyone else.”

  “I fear you must break it to him. The whole village will soon know.”

  “The servants?”

  “Mrs. Wetherby was understandably upset when she brought this latest news to my father’s attention.”

  “The servants.”

  Henrietta nodded. “And once it reaches Addy Welles…”

  “Oh, Lord. I must tell him at once.”

  The trap pulled up as close to the door as possible, and for the second time in as many days, Eliza stepped down onto the front drive of Little Cottage. Uncle himself opened the door and urged Henrietta to stay, but she merely thanked him and reined the pony off. Just then, a band of several men could be seen riding over the fields toward the bridge in the distance. The Tredwell men had arrived to aid in the search for Alice. She looked up to see the carriage go by and met the eyes of William gazing at her from within.

  “My dear Eliza – you are back at last.” Her attention was claimed by her uncle. She shook herself and focused on the matter at hand.

  “Yes, Uncle, and I have some news which cannot wait.”

  She ushered him into the parlor and bade him sit. “There is news of Alice. No, Sir, she is not found as yet. This comes from Miss Darrow.” She quickly gave him a summary of Mrs. Wetherby’s find. It took some explaining to get him to understand the import of the note and her disappearance, but he was visibly distressed upon comprehension.

  “Oh, my poor little cousin. Dastardly villain, what can we do?”

  “Sir William has promised to appeal to Lord Tollingham, and we must wait to see what comes of that.”

  “But none of that helps poor Alice now! Where could she have gone? What do girls do in this…in such…” He broke off uncertain of what he was even trying to ask. She hugged him and he patted her awkwardly on the back. “This puts such a horrid and sinister light on her absence.”

  “Yes, Uncle, but we must be strong for my Aunt just now.”

  “Do you think she suspects? How she can bear it…”

  “Fear for her safety is greater than any thought of condemnation just now. We must find her.”

  From their back windows, they could see the men clustering on the bridge. Uncle went to sit with his books. He
did not read, merely instinctively sought out a place of comfort. Eliza seated herself by the dining room windows and watched, helpless as the men bustled and moved in the distance in silent accord. The men had broken up, fanning out in all directions from the bridge where Alice’s cloak had been found.

  The sun was high overhead, sparkling blindingly against the white snow and turning the dirt to slushy mud. The men spread out into the moor, as well as upstream and downstream of the river. Henry Rivers steered his cob along the river’s bank, working slowly downstream. His horse slipped in the mud several times, forcing him to get down and walk alongside so he could get closer to the river’s edge. He had only gone about a half a mile when he saw it.

  There, pushed up against the curved bank and half-hidden by melting snow, lay a girl. He tethered the cob to a bush and half-slid his way down the bank to her side. Dark hair frozen into rivulets along her back and neck, she was on her stomach, half curled up. She lay in the shadow of the bank, beyond reach of the sun and the snow was still frozen over most of her body. He knew by just looking that she was dead and had been for some time. Still, he made sure, then climbed up the slippery bank to the top to yell for the others.

  Alice had been found.

  His father was the first to ride up. He nodded approval to his son and took stock of the scene. “Henry – I need you to ride to Stanton. Are you up for it?”

  “Aye, Sir.” Rivers took out a stubby pencil and scrawled a quick message on a scrap of paper. “Take this to the Earl of Tollingham’s estate there. You may have to ask directions. Ask for Sir William and deliver this to him. Here,” he dismounted and handed the reins of the dapple gray to his son. “Take the gray. He’s faster and better on the long ride than the cob.”

  “Aye, Sir.” Henry mounted and steered the gray towards the road, and on to Stanton.

  “And Henry,” the boy paused, “Give word at Little Cottage, then the Wetherby Farm. They’re family.”

  “Aye, Sir.”

  Eliza watched from the back door to Little Cottage, as the gray came flying up. She went outside and steeled herself as the boy dismounted and gave her the spare news. She bent her head, knowing what must have happened. Alastair appeared at her side as the boy finished. Henry then mounted again and steered the horse toward the Stanton road.