OFFICERS AND GENTLEMEN

For duty, for honour, for love

Bound by honour and family ties, three brave men fought for their lives in France …

Now, back in the drawing rooms of England, they face a new battle as three beautiful women lay siege to their scarred hearts!

COURTED BY THE CAPTAIN December 2013

PROTECTED BY THE MAJOR January 2014

DRAWN TO LORD RAVENSCAR February 2014

AUTHOR NOTE

This is the first of a new Regency trilogy: Officers and Gentlemen. The story of Jenny and Adam is charged with drama when Adam’s cousin is murdered and the cousins, who have formed a lasting friendship, set out to discover the culprit. Adam also has the added problem of trying to rescue his grandfather’s debt-laden estates without marrying an heiress. Jenny seems a brave and beautiful young woman, for whom he immediately feels a deep attraction, but if he is to rescue his grandfather it seems he needs a rich bride. Jenny is nursing a secret of her own, which she dares not reveal … though perhaps it might solve Adam’s problem.

I hope my readers will enjoy this Regency love story, which has a good sprinkling of intrigue and adventure, and will look forward to the stories of Hallam and Paul Ravenscar. I always like to hear what my readers think—you can e-mail me through my website: www.lindasole.co.uk

Courted by

the Captain

Anne Herries

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Previous novels by the same author:

THE RAKE’S REBELLIOUS LADY

A COUNTRY MISS IN HANOVER SQUARE*

AN INNOCENT DEBUTANTE IN HANOVER SQUARE*

THE MISTRESS OF HANOVER SQUARE*

FORBIDDEN LADY†

THE LORD’S FORCED BRIDE†

THE PIRATE’S WILLING CAPTIVE†

HER DARK AND DANGEROUS LORD†

BOUGHT FOR THE HAREM

HOSTAGE BRIDE

THE DISAPPEARING DUCHESS**

THE MYSTERIOUS LORD MARLOWE**

THE SCANDALOUS LORD LANCHESTER**

CAPTAIN MOORCROFT’S CHRISTMAS BRIDE

(part of Candlelit Christmas Kisses)

A STRANGER’S TOUCH†

HIS UNUSUAL GOVERNESS

PROMISED TO THE CRUSADER

*A Season in Town

† The Melford Dynasty

**Secrets and Scandals

And in the Regency series

The Steepwood Scandal:

LORD RAVENSDEN’S MARRIAGE

COUNTERFEIT EARL

Did you know that some of these novels are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk

ANNE HERRIES lives in Cambridgeshire, where she is fond of watching wildlife and spoils the birds and squirrels that are frequent visitors to her garden. Anne loves to write about the beauty of nature, and sometimes puts a little into her books, although they are mostly about love and romance. She writes for her own enjoyment, and to give pleasure to her readers. Anne is a winner of the Romantic Novelists’ Association Romance Prize. She invites readers to contact her on her website: www.lindasole.co.uk

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Prologue

‘By God, we did it!’ The four cousins looked at each other in triumph. The news had just arrived that Napoleon was in retreat. After days of bitter fighting, when it had seemed that Wellington’s troops must suffer defeat, even a rout, their astute general had turned the tide. ‘We’ve suffered terrible losses, but we’ve done it.’

Each of the four men had been wounded. Mark Ravenscar, the eldest, had but a scratch on his cheek and some slight damage to his sword-hand. Since he was generally considered to be a lucky so-and-so, handsome, rich and favoured by the gods, that was, in the opinion of his friends, hardly to be wondered at. His younger brother Paul had wounds to his head, right arm and left thigh, but was still amongst the walking wounded. Hallam Ravenscar, their eldest cousin, also had a head wound and another to his left arm, and Adam Miller, their cousin through the female line, was severely wounded in his right shoulder. However, they had all been patched up by the surgeon and none of them were considered in danger of their lives. Indeed, their wounds had merely made them first in line for transport home to England.

‘Boney is done for,’ Hallam said. ‘Old Hookey won’t let him off so easily this time. He escaped from Elba to cause chaos once more, but he wasn’t the same man. Even so, he can’t be allowed to run riot again. They will have to make sure he’s confined securely.’

‘Well, we’ve survived and that’s what matters,’ Mark said and smiled at his cousins. ‘At last I can marry Lucy.’

‘You lucky dog.’ Adam grinned as he clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Lucy Dawlish is the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. You have it all, my friend—a wonderful life waiting for you in England.’

Mark’s eyes reflected concern as he nodded. ‘Almost too perfect,’ he said. ‘You’ll come about, Adam. Your grandfather has the title of earl and a large estate...’

‘Most of which is mortgaged,’ Adam said gloomily. ‘The earl feels it to be my duty to marry an heiress. This little sortie was my escape from being thrust into a marriage I could not stomach.’

‘He can’t force you to marry to save his skin,’ Hallam said. ‘You have your father’s small estate—don’t let the earl bring pressure to bear.’

‘He says it’s my duty to the Benedict name.’ Adam sighed. ‘The trouble is, I know he’s right. I ought to do my duty by the family—but I’m not ready to marry just yet.’

‘Stick to your guns,’ Mark told him. ‘You were not the one who wasted the Benedict fortune. Your grandfather gambled recklessly. He should have known better at his age.’

‘He claims he was cheated,’ Adam said. ‘If he would give me the name of the rogue who fleeced him, I would call the devil out.’

‘That’s why the earl won’t tell you,’ Paul added. ‘He would rather have his only grandson alive than recover his losses. I dare say you’ll find a way to pull through. Besides, you may find an heiress you like.’ He smiled fondly at Adam. ‘We’ll all look round and find you one—a girl who is neither ugly nor stupid, but as rich as Croseus.’

‘An impossible task,’ Adam said, laughing. ‘I am lucky to have such good friends. I trust you will remain my friends if I’m reduced to marrying the daughter of a wealthy Cit?’

‘Through thick and thin,’ Hallam said. ‘We’ll all stand by each other. We came through this war by watching each other’s backs—we shall remain friends for life.’

‘Hear, hear,’ the others echoed.

‘If any one of us is in trouble, the others will back him up.’

‘In life and in death.’

Each of the men repeated the solemn promise they had made a few days previously when they’d been facing death together. Now they had only to face the future, and for four gentlemen of varying degrees of fortune, the future looked far brighter than it had only days ago.

‘In life and death...’

They clasped hands, one upon the other, and grinned at each other. Adam’s troubles were nothing that good fortune and a determined mind could not overcome.

Chapter One

Miss Jenny Hastings glanced round the crowded ballroom and knew she had to make an instant escape. If the marquis saw her he would find a way to corner her, and she was determined he should not catch her in his trap. If there was one man she truly could not bear, it was Fontleroy. The way his eyes followed her was enough to send cold shivers down her spine. His was a calculating gaze, as if he thought her vulnerable and at his mercy—which, since the death of her beloved father, she was in danger of becoming.

‘Oh, Papa,’ she murmured beneath her breath. ‘Why did you have to leave me alone so soon?’

She was not of course entirely alone, but her Aunt Martha and Uncle Rex were all but useless at protecting her. Her aunt believed anyone above the rank of lord must be conveying a favour on her niece by seeking her hand, and her uncle spent most of his life shut up in his library, unwilling to bother his head about his pretty niece.

In a hurry to quit the ballroom, Jenny almost bumped into one of the most beautiful girls she’d ever seen. She smiled and apologised, instantly recognising Miss Lucy Dawlish.

‘Forgive me,’ she said. ‘I wanted to avoid someone—did I tread on your foot?’

‘No, not at all,’ Lucy said and smiled. ‘Jenny—it is you. I thought I caught a glimpse of you earlier, but it is such a crush, isn’t it?’

‘Awful,’ Jenny agreed. ‘Which means the evening is a huge success. I came with my aunt and her friend Mrs Broxbourne. They have been talking all night and I was dancing quite happily until he turned up.’

Jenny moved her head to indicate the man watching them from the far side of the room. Lucy frowned and looked at her curiously.

‘I do not think I’ve met the gentleman. He is not unattractive.’

‘His soul is as black as pitch,’ Jenny said. ‘I can’t prove it, but I think he had something to do with Papa’s accident. He lost a considerable sum to the marquis that night...’

‘Oh, Jenny—are you in trouble?’

Jenny considered, then inclined her head, her cheeks a little warm. ‘Papa lost a great deal of money, Lucy—and my aunt seems to imagine I should be glad of the marquis’s interest. But I would rather die than be forced to marry such a man.’

‘Then you shall not,’ Lucy replied instantly. ‘Although only my close friends know it, my engagement is to be announced quite soon and we shall be going home to the country to prepare. Do say you will come and stay, Jenny. Mama was only saying yesterday that she did not know how she would part with me when I marry. I shall not be far away, but she would be delighted to have you as her companion. She has always thought you a sensible girl with beautiful manners and I know you would be doing her a kindness if you would make your home at Dawlish Court.’

‘How kind you are,’ Jenny said, looking doubtful. ‘Are you certain your mama would welcome a long-staying guest?’

‘She would love it of all things. I am her only daughter and neither of my brothers has yet obliged her by marrying. They spend all their time in London or Newmarket. Mama would adore to have you—if you can persuade your aunt to allow it.’

‘Oh, I think I might.’ Jenny breathed a sigh of relief as the marquis walked away, heading, she imagined, for the card room.

‘Then it’s all arranged. We shall take you up next week when we leave town. You must bring plenty of clothes for you will need them.’

‘Thank you.’ Jenny smiled at her. ‘I think that gentleman is coming to ask you to dance. I shall go and speak to my aunt at once.’

Leaving Lucy to dance with the extremely handsome man who had come to claim her, Jenny began to make her way through the crowded ballroom. It was difficult to reach the other side of the room, where the dowagers sat, and she was forced to wait until the press of people allowed her to move on.

‘Where is this paragon you promised me?’ A man’s voice charged with amusement claimed her attention. ‘An heiress, pretty if not beautiful, not stupid and available. Now did you or did you not promise me such a rare item?’

‘It is not as easy as that,’ a second young man answered in kind.

‘You are too particular, Adam. We have already shown you two perfectly suitable young ladies and neither was to your taste.’

‘One of them giggled at everything I said and the other one had bad breath,’ the first gentleman said. ‘God save me from simpering heiresses. I’ve had them paraded in front of me ever since I rose from my convalescence bed and I despair of ever finding one I should wish to marry.’

The second gentleman laughed. ‘If the young lady has a fortune, you immediately find some fault in her. I think the woman you would marry has yet to be born.’

Adam laughed and shook his head. ‘I dare say you are right. I am a sight too particular—but the whole notion of it fills me with disgust. Why should I marry simply for the sake of a fortune?’

Jenny glanced over her shoulder at the young men who were so deep in their amusing conversation that they were completely unaware she’d heard every word. The coxcomb! The young man who was so hard to please was indeed handsome, but not above ordinary height. His hair was dark, almost black, and his eyes bright blue. He must have a high opinion of himself if none of the young ladies here this evening could please him. Jenny knew of six young women present that evening who were considerable heiresses and each of them had something to recommend them.

Miss Maddingly was blonde and extremely pretty in a delicate way. Miss Rowbottom was as dark as her friend was fair with rather striking eyebrows. Miss Saunders was a redhead and much admired. Miss Headingly-Jones was another blonde, with large blue eyes; Miss Hatton was not as beautiful as the others, but still attractive, and Miss Pearce was unfortunately a little squint-eyed, but her twenty thousand pounds should make her acceptable to most. What did the particular young man want in his future wife? Was he above being pleased?

His eyes seemed to rest on her for a moment and then passed on. Jenny frowned and moved further into the crush.

* * *

It was several minutes before she reached her aunt, who looked up and smiled vaguely at her.

‘Fontleroy was looking for you earlier, my love. I think he meant to ask you to dance, but could not get near you for the crush.’

‘It is exceedingly warm in here this evening, Aunt,’ Jenny said. ‘I met Lucy Dawlish. They go home next week and I have been invited to stay for some weeks—until after her wedding.’

‘Indeed?’ Mrs Martha Hastings frowned for a moment. ‘I was not aware her engagement had been announced. Well, I dare say it will be good company for you, Jenny. Lady Dawlish entertains only the best people and you must be flattered to be asked. I dare say you may meet a suitable gentleman in her company—and the marquis may post down to visit you if he chooses.’

‘Lucy’s engagement is not yet announced, but her friends know she is to marry Mark Ravenscar. I’ve met him only once, but he seems pleasant.’

‘If you would but consider Fontleroy, you might be engaged yourself.’

Jenny sighed. She had tried on several occasions to make her aunt understand that she would never consider marriage to Fontleroy. Had she not a penny to her name she would prefer to work for her living as a governess or a companion. Being a paid companion could not be worse than living with Mrs Hastings.

‘I have a little headache, Aunt. Do you think we could leave soon?’

‘Well, it is very warm this evening,’ her aunt agreed. ‘Go and put on your pelisse, my love. We shall leave as soon as the carriage may be sent for.’

Jenny did not need to be told twice. She decided that it was easier to quit the room by keeping to the perimeter rather than trying to cross it. As she reached the door that led to the hall, which led up to the room provided for ladies to change, she caught sight of the gentlemen who had been discussing the heiresses earlier. One of them was dancing with a very pretty young woman, but the other—the particular gentleman—was standing frowning at the company as if nothing and no one pleased him. What a disagreeable young man he must be.

For a moment their eyes met across the room and his narrowed. Seeing a flicker of something in those relentless eyes, Jenny put her head in the air and turned her back. She had no wish to be the object of his interest even for a moment!

* * *

Adam’s eyes moved about the room, picking out the various young ladies who had been recommended to him. They were all very well in their way—to dance with any one of them would be a pleasure—but the very idea of having to court a young lady for her fortune made his stomach turn. It was quite unfair of the earl to expect it of him. That it was expected had become ever more plain since Adam’s return from the war.

‘So you managed to escape death or crippling injury this time, Adam,’ the earl had said in a voice of displeasure. ‘Do I need to remind you of what might have happened had you been killed? It is time you set up your nursery, my boy. Unless you give me heirs the title will pass into oblivion—and that prospect causes me pain. We have been earls since the time of the Conqueror. To lose the title or the estate would be equally painful to me. Do you mean to oblige me by marrying an heiress or not?’

‘I do not wish to disoblige you, Grandfather,’ Adam said, ‘yet I would crave your indulgence a little longer. I would at least marry a young woman I can admire if nothing more.’

‘Well, well,’ the earl said tolerantly. ‘There is time enough yet, but I do not have many years left to me. I should like to know the estate and the succession were safe.’

Adam had left his grandfather’s estate and journeyed to London. It was his first appearance in the drawing rooms of society for a while. He had been away for some years, like many young men now returned from the wars. Adam knew that several of his friends were seeking young women of fortune. His was not the only estate to be encumbered with mortgages and in danger of sinking into extinction.

Had he seen a young lady who caught his attention he would have done his best to court her, even though the whole idea filled him with repugnance. To be seeking a wife for her fortune was not what Adam would have wished for given his choice. Indeed, he had not yet made up his mind to it. He had been invited to stay at Ravenscar for Mark’s wedding and would do so, but before that he hoped to have some sport. There was an important meeting at Newmarket the following week and it was Adam’s intention to attend.

A wry smile touched his mouth. If he could but place a lucky bet and win the stake he needed to improve his grandfather’s fortunes, it would save the need for a distasteful decision. He was about to leave the ballroom when he saw a young woman regarding him from the far end of the room. Her expression was one of extreme disapproval. For a moment he wondered what he could have done to upset her—to his certain knowledge he had never met the young lady.

He had time to notice that she had particularly fine eyes and a soft mouth before she turned away and left the room. She was not one of the notable heiresses pointed out to him that evening by his obliging friends. By the plain look of her attire and her lack of ostentatious jewellery, he doubted that she was one of those rare females. However, her reddish-brown hair and delicate complexion was out of the ordinary. She certainly had the beauty he’d jokingly demanded that his heiress ought to have and there had been intelligence in those eyes—but she probably did not have a fortune.

So much the better, if Adam had his way, but he had promised his grandfather that he would at least attempt to attach an heiress. Glancing at the least displeasing of the young ladies he knew to be on the catch for a title, Adam breathed deeply and began to swathe a path through the crush of people.

The least he could do was to ask Miss Maddingly to dance...

* * *

‘You cannot leave before Lady Braxton’s dance,’ Mrs Hastings said firmly. ‘Your friends can certainly spare you a few days longer. You will oblige me in this, Jenny. Your uncle will send you down to Dawlish in his own carriage at the end of the week.’

‘But, Aunt, if I leave tomorrow I may travel with Lucy and save my uncle the expense.’

‘You speak as if your uncle would grudge the expense,’ her aunt said and shook her head. ‘I know you cannot be so very ungrateful as to refuse me this request, Jenny. Neither your uncle or I have asked anything of you before this—and I really think you must attend the dance, for my word was given.’

Jenny gave up the argument. She knew Aunt Martha would end in a fit of vexation if she refused to accept her wish upon the matter. Much as she would have liked to travel with her friend, she could not insist on it—though her uncle’s lumbering travelling coach was not at all comfortable. It would have been far better to travel post, but the cost was exorbitant and her uncle would never approve when he had what he considered a perfectly good coach.

Mr Keith Hastings’s own coach had been sold along with many of his personal possessions. Jenny had tried to protest that such stringent economy was unnecessary. Papa might have lost money, but there was surely still more than sufficient for Jenny’s needs? However, Uncle Rex liked to practise economy and could not be brought to accept that there was no need to pinch pennies. It was a matter over which Jenny’s father had always been at odds with his brother.

‘Your uncle is a good man, Jenny love,’ he’d once told her. ‘But he is a regular nip-farthing and will not spend a penny if a ha’penny will do.’

Jenny had laughed. Papa had perhaps been a little over-generous with his money and that might be why her uncle was determined to make economies. She was not perfectly certain of how Papa had left things, for she’d been content to leave business to her uncle—though it was perhaps time that she had a word with Mr Nodgrass. Papa’s lawyer could tell her where she stood financially and what had happened to Mama’s jewels. Had they been sold to pay debts? Her uncle had mumbled on about something of the kind, leaving Jenny with the idea that she had very little to call her own—which made her all the more indebted to her uncle for taking her in.

However, she had only a string of seed pearls of her own and if any of Mama’s jewels remained she was determined to lay claim to them. Jenny was almost nineteen and Papa had been dead for a year. It was certainly time that she discovered exactly where she stood.

Her mind made up, she decided to call at her lawyer’s office the very next day.

* * *

‘Come in, come in, Miss Hastings,’ Mr Nodgrass greeted her kindly, but with some surprise the next morning. ‘There was no need to put yourself to so much trouble, for had you asked I should have been pleased to call on you at your uncle’s house.’

‘I hoped to see you alone, sir,’ Jenny said as she was ushered into his private office. ‘My uncle was unclear about the state of Papa’s affairs. I wished to know if any of Mama’s jewels were still available to me?’

His thick eyebrows climbed. ‘Certainly Mrs Hastings’s jewellery is available. It sits in my vault awaiting your instructions, Miss Jenny—if I may call you that?’

‘Yes, sir, of course. I had no idea the jewellery was here. Why have I not been informed?’

‘Your aunt considered that you were too young to wear any of the more expensive pieces and your uncle thought them safer in my vault. However, I know there are several small pieces suitable for a young lady and I wondered why you did not avail yourself of them.’

‘I should certainly like to do so. I am going to stay with friends soon and would like something pretty to wear at a wedding. If I might see what there is, sir?’

‘Of course.’ Mr Nodgrass pulled a bell-rope and gave the instructions to an underling. ‘You may take everything with you—or as much as you consider suitable to your present way of life.’

‘Thank you, sir. Perhaps while I am here you would acquaint me with my circumstances. I know that Papa lost a considerable sum of money at the tables just before he died in that driving accident—but do I have any money of my own?’

* * *

Jenny was thoughtful as she left the lawyer’s office an hour later. In her reticule there were six items of pretty but not particularly valuable jewellery—things that her aunt might easily have secured for her use before this had she been bothered. Distressed by her beloved father’s death, Jenny had not thought about the jewels or her situation for some time. Mr Nodgrass had not been able to give her full details, for the accounts had been placed in a safe and the clerk had mislaid the keys. However, he had told her that her situation was far from desperate, and he could make her a small quarterly allowance if she wished for it, though much of her inheritance was invested either in property or shares.

‘I cannot tell you the exact amount of your inheritance until I find those accounts,’ he told her regretfully. ‘However, I think you need not worry too much, my dear. I will send a copy to you once they have been transcribed and you may peruse them at your will and let me know if you wish to make changes to your portfolio.’

Mr Nodgrass was as honest and well meaning as any man she’d met—it was the behaviour of her uncle and aunt that shocked her. Why had they not considered it necessary to tell Jenny her true position in life—and why were they trying to push her into marriage with a man she disliked?

Lost in her thoughts, Jenny was not aware that the object of her thoughts was making his way towards her until he waylaid her path.

‘What a pleasant surprise, Miss Hastings,’ the marquis said. ‘I was hoping we might meet tomorrow evening, but this is both unexpected and delightful.’

‘I beg you will excuse me, sir,’ Jenny said and looked at her maid. ‘Come along, Meg. We must be getting home.’

‘Allow me to take you both up in my carriage...’

‘I thank you, no, sir,’ Jenny said. ‘I see some friends I have arranged to meet—excuse me. I must join them...’

Ignoring his look of displeasure, she walked past and hurried up to Mrs Broxbourne, whom she’d just noticed emerging from a milliner’s shop further up the road.

‘Jenny, my love,’ the woman said. ‘Have you been shopping?’

‘I had a little business, but it is done. Do you go home now, ma’am? Could I prevail on you to take me up as far as my uncle’s house?’

‘Certainly, my love.’ The lady’s gaze travelled as far as the marquis and her brow crinkled. ‘Yes, I see. I have told Martha I do not approve of that creature. I have no idea why she imagines the match would be a good one for you, Jenny.’

‘It will never happen, ma’am. I dislike that gentleman excessively.’

‘Well, I suppose your aunt hopes for a good marriage for you—and there is a title and some fortune.’

‘But no liking on my part. I am very grateful to you for taking me up in your carriage, ma’am. I should otherwise have had to summon a cab.’

‘Your uncle should make his chaise available to you in town. You may always call on me should you wish. I should be happy to make mine available when it is not in use.’

‘I thank you for your good offices,’ Jenny said and smiled inwardly. ‘However, it will not be necessary since I am to leave town very shortly and I do not intend to return for some months. Lady Dawlish has asked me to live with them for a time and I shall certainly take advantage of her kindness.’

‘Lady Dawlish is everything she ought to be,’ Mrs Broxbourne said. ‘I shall be glad to think of you with kind friends, Jenny. I am not completely sure how you are situated, but if you should ever need a friend you may apply to me.’

‘How good of you, ma’am,’ Jenny said. ‘Should I be in need I shall not forget your offer—but I believe I am perfectly situated for the moment.’

She was smiling as she slid into the comfortable carriage, hugging her secret to herself. She had no intention of challenging her uncle or aunt or of demanding an explanation of their conduct. It was enough to know that she was independent of their charity and could make her own way in the world. For although she had no idea how much had been left to her, she did know that she had some money and could probably afford to set up her own modest establishment if she chose.

Jenny wished that her uncle had not thought it wise to sell her old home without consulting her. She had accepted his decision, believing she had no choice, but this might not have been the case at all, she now realised.

She would not know the extent of her inheritance until the copy of Mr Nodgrass’s accounts reached her, and by then she would be staying in the country with Lucy Dawlish.

Chapter Two

‘Have you noticed that when Lady Luck decides to desert one she does so with a vengeance?’ Adam asked and twirled his wine glass so that the rich ruby liquid swirled enticingly in the delicate bowl. ‘That damned horse might have won for me. Had it done so I should have been beforehand with the world for a month. As it is I must go into the country.’

‘My own pockets are sadly to let or I should offer to frank you.’ Captain John Marshall joined him in the sad perusal of their joint fate, having both put down too much of their blunt on a sure thing. ‘No, no, don’t poker up, Adam. Only meant pay our shot at the inn. You’d do the same for me.’

‘I can manage that,’ Adam replied ruefully. ‘Kept enough back for it, but I’d thought to return to London for a few weeks. However, my allowance for the month is shot and I refuse to borrow—so the country it must be.’

‘I shall avail myself of my uncle’s hospitality,’ John said. ‘He has been asking me to stay this age. Bores one to death with his stories, but he’s got a good heart. He’ll leave me a fortune one day, I dare say.’

‘Had I such a relative I should be delighted to stay with him.’ Adam laughed. ‘The cure for my dilemma is in my own hands, but I can’t seem to make up my mind to it.’

‘Know where you’re coming from.’ His friend tapped the side of his nose. ‘Heiresses are the very devil. If they’re ugly, it makes one want to run a mile—and if they’re beautiful, they look through one as if there was a bad smell under their pretty noses.’

Adam was forced into laughter. He sipped his wine, feeling the cloud of gloom lift slightly. The future looked exceedingly dark, but at the moment he was still free to enjoy his life as he would.

‘I’ve been invited to Mark Ravenscar’s wedding. I think I shall go down and stay. I’ve decided I shall give him one of my breeding mares as a gift. He has been after buying her for an age and I could hardly think of anything better—though I must give Lucy something for herself. A piece of my late mother’s jewellery, perhaps.’

‘Ladies can never have too many trinkets.’ John nodded wisely. ‘I plan to send them a silver tea-and-coffee service myself—we have about twenty of them at home.’

‘It’s what all the uncles and aunts give,’ Adam smiled in amusement. ‘Which is why I settled on the mare.’ He finished his wine and stood up. ‘Think I’ll go up. If I don’t see you in the morning, you’ll be at Mark’s wedding?’

‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world. There wasn’t one of us in the regiment that didn’t envy him Lucy Dawlish—a regular golden goddess fit for one beloved of the gods.’

‘Yes, Mark always has been a lucky devil,’ Adam replied with an odd smile. ‘Good night, old fellow.’

Leaving his friend to finish the bottle, Adam exited the private parlour and walked upstairs to his room. He lay down on the bed and closed his eyes, still fully clothed. Dashed tired and dispirited, but he’d enjoyed meeting an old comrade. Now that his wounds had healed, Adam was considering whether he might do better to return to an army life. He would be an officer on half-pay during peace time, however, which meant he would find it difficult to manage. Perhaps it would be better to try to set his own small estate in order. He was unlikely to inherit anything but an ancient pile of stones and huge debts from his grandfather—debts that he could never pay unless he married a considerable heiress.

Back to the same old problem, he closed his eyes and was soon snoring gently as his mind drifted away and in his dreams he saw a woman’s look of disdain.

* * *

‘Well, Jenny, I’m sure I do not know why you wish to leave us,’ Mrs Hastings said as her niece came down dressed in a smart but plain green travelling gown. She sniffed her disapproval. ‘I think we’ve done our best to make you comfortable.’

‘Yes, Aunt Martha. You’ve both been kind—but I wished for a change. I am not certain what I would like to do with my life, but I intend to make up my own mind.’

‘I still cannot see why you dislike the marquis so much. You would have a prestigious title and he would settle money on you...’

‘I think I can manage for myself on what I have, Aunt. Papa may have lost some money, but I am not a pauper. I am not reduced to earning my living as a governess.’

‘No one would employ a girl as pretty as you for their governess.’ Mrs Hastings sniffed again. ‘Your uncle was only trying to protect you from the wrong kind of suitor.’

Jenny smiled and shook her head. ‘I must not keep the coachman waiting,’ she said. Although it would have been perfectly possible for her to travel by post-chaise, she had been unable to get out of using her uncle’s antiquated carriage. He was annoyed with her for visiting the lawyer without reference to him and Jenny had had to endure a homily from him on the ingratitude of younger folk today.

‘I did what I thought right in the circumstances, Jenny. Your father left me the task of guarding you and your funds until you are either one and twenty—or married. You had no need of a larger allowance whilst you lived under our roof.’

‘You are one of the trustees,’ Jenny gently reminded him. ‘Mr Nodgrass is the other and he saw fit to give me the monthly sum I requested.’

‘Yes, well, since you are removing yourself from my house I suppose you will need more. But you should learn economy, Jenny. Even had you a huge fortune, which to my mind, you have not, you may easily run through it if you spend too freely.’

Jenny had not answered. From what Mr Nodgrass had told her she had funds enough for her needs and she saw no point in the stringent economy her uncle thought right. However, her aunt and uncle had been kind enough in their way and she had no wish to quarrel with them.

A sigh of relief left her lips as she climbed into the carriage and the groom put up the steps. Her maid Megan was already sitting quietly in one corner, waiting for her. She smiled at her, feeling as if a heavy weight had been lifted. Her uncle and aunt were good people in their way, but they had made her feel beholden to them for all these months and there was no need for it, no need at all. Jenny could have remained in her father’s house had her uncle not sold the property together with so many other things that Jenny would have preferred to keep. Thankfully, Mr Nodgrass had refused to give up her mother’s jewels, keeping them safe for her in his strongroom.

Jenny had decided to leave the more valuable diamonds and rubies with him, because in that much her aunt was right. Such ostentation would not become a girl of her age and should be kept for marriage or some years in the future. Papa had bought the finest he could for his beloved wife, but Jenny loved best the trinkets she’d chosen for her own use, which had also been her mother’s favourites and worn more often than either the diamonds or the rubies.

‘Are you looking forward to your visit, miss?’

Jenny glanced at her maid and a little gurgle of laughter broke from her. ‘So much! It should be the greatest good fun—lots of dances, dinners and picnics. We have the summer before us and with the wedding next month everything will be so exciting. You’ll enjoy yourself in the country, Meg. You can make friends and go out for walks when I don’t need you.’

‘I was a country girl until your papa employed me to look after you,’ Meg replied. ‘We make our own fun in the country. I always loved the haymaking as a girl—and gathering in the May blossom.’

‘Tell me about your childhood,’ Jenny said. ‘We’ve never talked like this before and I should so much like to know all about your family and what you did as a young girl...’

* * *

His thumping head had almost cleared now. The fresh air was doing him a power of good and he was glad he’d decided to drive himself down in his phaeton. Alas, his favourite high-perch phaeton with the bright yellow wheels and the matched blacks he’d prized so much had had to be sold to pay his immediate debts. He now had more than five hundred guineas in his account, which meant he could stop worrying—at least for the time being.

Adam’s goal of having one of the best breeding stables in the country might have suffered a little from the loss of his blacks, but he still had the greys and the chestnuts, both teams excellent horseflesh. He’d always been a good judge of horses and gentlemen wishing to improve their stables often sought his advice. Had he wished he could have begun to put his land in order by selling more of his stable, but then his dream would vanish into thin air. However, the perch phaeton was a luxury and the more mundane vehicle he was driving now served him just as well.

It would be good to see his cousins again. Since they were forever pressing him to stay he would not feel that he was in any way impinging on their hospitality. Mark had spoken of wishing to buy some good bloodstock in order to set up his stables and, with the addition of the mare Adam had decided to give him as a wedding gift, it could easily be done. They might ride out to a few sales in the neighbourhood and discover whether there was anything worth purchasing.

Seeing the carriage blocking the road ahead, Adam brought his horses to a gentle halt and threw the reins to his tiger as he got down to investigate. It was obvious that the coach was old and something had broken—the leading pole by the looks of things. It had lurched sideways, only prevented from overturning by some skilled handling of the horses by the coachman. As Adam went to investigate, he saw two young women sitting on a blanket at the side of the road. One was obviously a maid, the other was a young lady of gentle birth dressed plainly in an elegant, but serviceable rather than fashionable, gown.

‘I am sorry to find you in trouble, ladies,’ he said and swept off his hat. ‘Is there anything I may do to help you?’

‘My uncle’s groom has gone to fetch a blacksmith,’ the young lady in green said. ‘I think it will need several men to get this wretched coach off the road—and I am informed that the nearest inn is more than a mile away.’

‘Yes, I believe there is an inn of sorts—but not at all suitable for ladies.’ Adam hesitated, then, ‘Where are you headed?’

‘The Dawlish estate. I am going to stay with Lucy and her family.’

‘Yes, I know the Dawlish family,’ Adam said. ‘I am going down to stay with Lucy’s bridegroom’s family—my cousins. The estates are not far apart. I could take you both up in my phaeton. However, your coachman must make arrangements to send on your baggage for I cannot accommodate it.’

‘Most of my things were sent ahead by wagon,’ Jenny said. ‘Coachman shall do as you suggest—if I may bring my box with me?’

Adam saw the small trunk lying on the grass beside them and guessed it held her personal items and valuables.

‘Yes, of course. Your companion may hold it on her lap.’ He approached and offered his hand, ‘Allow me, Miss...’

‘Hastings—Jenny Hastings.’ Adam noticed the faint blush in her cheeks and the way her hand trembled in his, as he helped her to rise. It was only as he was handing her into his phaeton that he realised she was the lady he’d noticed at the last ball he’d attended in London. She’d looked at him with decided disapproval that night, though as far as he knew they’d never met before today. ‘I knew Lucy at school. My father is dead and they have kindly offered me a home.’

Her slight embarrassment and the plainness of her gown and pelisse made Adam think that she was reduced to accepting kindness from her friends. It would seem that her father’s demise had left her in difficult circumstances and she was to be some kind of a companion, though treated as a friend rather than a paid servant. It was a situation that many young ladies of good birth found themselves in when a death in the family left them with too little fortune to manage for themselves.

She was wearing a pretty silver-and-enamelled brooch pinned to her pelisse. Of little value, it was exactly the kind of ornament a girl in her position would prize. He wondered that she had told him so much of her situation for she need not, and yet perhaps she felt her come down keenly and did not wish him to think her a privileged guest. He smiled at her kindly, because now he understood the expression she’d worn that evening in London. She had not been disapproving of him in particular, but was at odds with the world itself for leaving her in her present circumstances.

Adam could sympathise, for his own circumstances were not too far different. Miss Hastings would not have the avenue of marriage to a rich heiress open to her. Being a man, and heir to a title, he had a distinct advantage, as his problems might have been solved had he a little less pride. For a young woman like this there were few options open to her other than to seek paid employment or live as a dependent in the home of a friend—unless she was fortunate enough to be asked for in marriage. If she were prepared to accept an older man or a widower with a family, she might be fortunate enough to find a comfortable match—although was there any comfort to be had in a loveless marriage?

Having settled Miss Hastings in the carriage, he helped the young maid to sit behind and took up the reins from his tiger. By driving with great care, he managed to pass the stricken coach and mount the grass verge, negotiating a tricky passage with ease.

‘You drive very well,’ Miss Hastings observed and Adam smiled. He was considered a notable whip, but had no intention of puffing off his consequence. ‘Papa was a whip—indeed, I shall never understand how he came to overset his chaise at such speed that he was thrown to the ground and killed.’

‘Accidents will happen even to the best of us,’ Adam said in a sympathetic tone. ‘I am sorry for your loss, Miss Hastings.’

‘It was almost a year ago now, which is why I’ve left off my blacks. My aunt was anxious for me to wear colours again—but I shall continue to wear grey and lilac for a little longer.’

‘Your gown today is a very pretty green, however.’

‘A present from my aunt. I felt obliged to wear it since she had gone to so much trouble to have it made up for me.’

‘Ah, I see...’ Adam concentrated on his driving. ‘It will be late afternoon by the time we arrive at Ravenscar. If we dine there, I can send word to Lady Dawlish. She may have you fetched—or I can drive you there after we’ve eaten. To arrive after dark without explanation might cause some adverse comment...’

‘You think Lady Dawlish might consider it improper in me to allow you to take us up?’

‘I would not wish to have anyone form the wrong conclusion.’

‘But surely...I have my maid...’

‘Yes, but I...well, I have been known to support a pretty...mistress in the past and I would not wish anyone to receive the wrong impression.’

‘Oh...’ A sideways glance told him that her cheeks flamed. ‘I had not thought...only how kind it was...’ She floundered and Adam took pity on her.

‘You are quite safe with me. I do not seduce innocent young ladies, even if I have the reputation of being a rake—which is not truly deserved, though I say it myself.’

‘You are very thoughtful for my sake.’

‘A young woman in your delicate position cannot be too careful.’

‘In my...’ She swallowed hard, a startled look in her eyes. She could not have realised how revealing her words had been and he was sorry to have embarrassed her. ‘Yes, I see. You fear that it might cause Lady Dawlish to rescind her kind offer?’

‘Great ladies can sometimes be a little severe in matters of propriety,’ Adam said. ‘Safer to reach my cousin’s house and then send word that we took you in when your coach met with an accident.’

‘Yes...thank you. You are very considerate.’ Adam risked another glance at her. Her cheeks were rather pink and she seemed in some sort of difficulty. He was not sure whether her foremost emotion was embarrassment or...was that a gasp of despair or could it possibly be laughter?

‘You may think me impertinent, perhaps? Yet I should not wish you to lose your home because of a misunderstanding.’

‘No, certainly not, that would be unfortunate.’ She had herself in hand now and smiled at him. ‘I assure you I do not find you in the least impertinent, sir. Indeed, I am grateful for your care of my reputation.’

Adam made no immediate reply. She was obviously much affected by her change in situation. He could only suppose that she had been brought up to expect the best from life and her new circumstances were distressing her.

‘I should never wish to be the cause of harm to a young lady, especially when you find yourself in difficulties,’ he assured her and heard a little gasp from the maidservant. ‘Now tell me, are you looking forward to Lucy’s wedding?’

‘Yes, very much indeed,’ the reply came easily now. ‘The summer holds many treats ahead, I think, for Lady Dawlish is a generous hostess and will not permit herself to show me any lessening of regard because of my reduced circumstances.’

She had brought herself to speak of it and Adam was respectfully silent. He knew how much it must have cost her to speak of such things and was determined to be as generous and kind as he could.

* * *

For the next half an hour he regaled her with stories of his and his cousins’ exploits on the field of battle, describing the fierce fighting and their feelings of despair when at first forced to retreat. Also, the true comradeship and care for one another their experiences had forged.

‘When Old Hookey gave the orders to advance I was never more delighted in my life. What might have been a rout ended in a brilliant victory—and it was due to his strategy and the bravery of men who would cheerfully have died for him.’

‘I fear too many died,’ Jenny said. ‘I recall my uncle speaking of it—but he did not say much for he knew any talk of such things would distress me.’

‘Yes, indeed, it is not the subject for a lady’s parlour,’ Adam admitted. ‘I believe Wellington is now in Vienna. I fear he will find making the peace more difficult than he found the campaign. It is always so, for politics is a dirty business and men who would not know how to command a fly have a deal too much to say about how things shall be settled.’

‘My uncle was of the opinion that Napoleon should be tried and executed, but I dare say that will not happen.’

‘I think too many voices would be raised against it. He must certainly be contained for we cannot allow him to wreak further havoc in Europe—but he is a fine general and an execution might be a hard way to end such a life.’

‘You sound as though you almost admire him?’

‘Yes, in a way, I suppose I do. He was a worthy opponent. At one time the most brilliant general that ever lived, barring Wellington himself—though at the end he made mistakes he would not have made when he was younger. Like many others before him he grew too big for his boots. Power went to his head. Had he known when to stop, he might still have been emperor.’

‘Yes, perhaps. I had heard some speak of him in romantic terms, but thought them foolish girls—but if you admire him, the case is proven.’

Adam chuckled for such forthright speech was not often met with in a young lady and he found her views refreshing. Glancing at her sideways, he wondered what other pearls of wisdom might drop from those sweet lips given the chance.

Jenny glanced round at her maid. ‘Are you comfortable, Meg?’

‘Oh, yes, miss. Much more comfortable now.’

‘My uncle’s coach rattled us almost to death,’ she said and laughed. ‘Casting a wheel was better fortune than we knew.’

The sound of her laughter warmed Adam. He was suddenly aware of her sitting close to him, her femininity, and her subtle perfume that he thought was her own rather than from a bottle. She was quite lovely—though no cold beauty. He thought of some of the proud London ladies he’d seen dressed in their rich gowns. In her simple travelling gown this young woman cast them all into shade. He felt something stir in his loins—a feeling he did not often associate with innocent young ladies.

Adam’s taste was normally for older women, opera singers or dancers, or the occasional widow who needed a friend’s support to keep the wolf from the door after the death of her loved one. Over the years he’d taken his lovers lightly: a Spanish tavern wench, a French actress, several English ladies who had been married, some more than once. To feel the heat of desire curl through him because of a proper young lady sitting beside him was a new experience. Though it made him smile inwardly, he ruthlessly crushed all thought of what her lips might taste of or how the softness of her skin might feel pressed against his.

Miss Jenny Hastings was out of bounds. She had no fortune and neither did he so marriage was not a viable proposition had either of them had the inclination, which it was much too soon even to consider—and anything else was out of the question, even if this feeling happened to be more than fleeting lust. He could offer her friendship and he would—but his honour forbade him to take advantage of her vulnerability. No, he must conquer the sudden and ridiculous desire to stop the carriage and catch her up in his arms. It was quite ridiculous. They were complete strangers and knew nothing of one another. He really did not know what had got into him! And yet when he’d caught her eye in that London ballroom he’d felt drawn to her somehow.

* * *

‘Are we very far now?’ she asked after he had lapsed into silence for some twenty minutes or more.

‘Are you hungry or tired?’ he asked and glanced at his watch. ‘I suppose we might have stopped, but I thought it unwise to eat at an inn. We should be at Ravenscar Court in a few minutes.’

‘Oh, good,’ Jenny said. ‘My aunt’s cook put up a hamper for us, but in the distress of the accident it went rolling into the ditch and was lost.’

‘And you are hungry.’ He heard a sound that could only be her stomach growling and became aware of his own hunger—not the sexual hunger he’d felt earlier, but a natural desire for food. ‘I promise you it will not be long. My cousins will provide us with refreshments as soon as we arrive.’’

* * *

Adam pulled his chaise to a halt at the front of a large, imposing country residence some fifteen minutes later. His tiger jumped down and went to hold the horses’ heads, while he helped first Miss Hastings and then her maid to alight.

‘Well, here we are,’ he said. ‘I am expected so someone should be here at any—’

The sound of shots being fired startled him. He looked about him in search of their source, thinking that they must have come from somewhere at the rear. It was even as he was deciding what to do for the best that a man came from the front porch and stumbled towards him. Adam saw the blood and gave a cry of distress and shock, rushing towards his cousin. He was in time to catch Mark before he collapsed. Holding him in his arms, he knelt on the gravel, looking down at the face of the man he had always believed the most favoured of the gods and practically invincible.

‘Mark, dear fellow,’ he said, for he saw that the wound was fatal and his cousin had but a short time to live. ‘What happened—who did this to you?’

‘Father...Paul...tell Father to watch out for him...’

The words were so faint that Adam scarcely heard them. His head was in a whirl, his mind suspended in disbelief. How could this be happening? Mark had sailed through all the campaigns on the Peninsula and in France. How could he be lying in Adam’s arms dying of a shotgun wound now when he was at his own home in peaceful Huntingdonshire?

‘What is happening?’ Paul’s voice cried. He came running from the side of the house, a shotgun broken for safety and lying over his arm. As he approached, he dropped the gun and flung himself down by his brother’s side. ‘No—oh God, no,’ he cried and tears started to his eyes. ‘Did you see what happened? Who could have done this? I heard shots almost at the same moment as I shot a rat in the walled garden. Did anyone come this way?’

‘No one but Mark,’ Adam said. He stood up as servants started to converge on them from all sides. ‘Some of you make a thorough search of the grounds. One of you must go for the doctor. I think it is hopeless, but the attempt must be made. If you see a stranger or intruder, apprehend them—I want justice for my cousin.’

Pandemonium broke loose. Men were shouting at each other, feet flying as they divided into groups to search for the murderer. Adam lifted Mark off the ground, carrying him into the house. Then, remembering his passengers, he turned to look at them. Both young women looked stunned.

‘As you see, my cousin has been shot,’ Adam said. ‘Forgive me. I had not expected to bring you to such a reception.’

‘You must not think of us,’ Jenny said and dabbed at her cheeks with a lace kerchief.

‘Mrs Mountfitchet,’ Adam addressed a woman dressed all in black, who hovered nearby. ‘These young ladies were in distress for their carriage has broken down—send word to Lady Dawlish, for they are meant to be her guests, and please feed them. They are hungry.’

‘Do not worry for them, sir,’ the housekeeper said. ‘Come along, my dears. I’ll find you a comfortable parlour to sit in and you shall have some bread and butter, cold meats and pickles—and a pot of tea.’

‘Thank you...so kind...’ Jenny said, then, in a louder voice. ‘Please, I would know how your cousin goes on, sir.’

Adam made no answer for he was hurrying away and up the stairs, the younger man hard on his heels.

‘I can’t believe it,’ the housekeeper said. ‘That such a thing should happen to the young master here in his own home. It’s scandalous, that’s what it is, and no mistake.’

‘It was such a shock,’ Jenny said and dabbed at her eyes again. ‘I am so very sorry. I wish we were not here to cause you more trouble.’

‘Now don’t you be worrying about that, miss. It has given me a proper shock, but as for looking after you, well, I’d rather have something to do. His lordship’s man will do all that is needed upstairs. Are you related to Miss Dawlish, miss—the poor young lady? What she’ll do now I dread to think.’

‘It is terrible for both families. Everyone was so happy, looking forward to the wedding...’ Jenny’s throat caught. She had come down for Lucy’s wedding and now her husband-to-be was dying. ‘I cannot believe such a wicked thing could happen here.’

‘There’s a good many wicked things go on,’ the housekeeper said in dire tones. ‘But not at Ravenscar. What his lordship will say to it all I do not know...’

Chapter Three

‘How can it have happened?’ Lord Ravenscar asked, staring at Adam in disbelief. ‘You say that you heard shots just as you arrived?’

‘We had just got down from the phaeton,’ Adam confirmed. ‘I had brought a young lady I found in distress, her coach having broken down, and was about to take her into the house when it happened. The shots seemed to come from the back of the building’

‘And my son?’

‘Mark is dying, sir,’ Adam replied. There was no way of softening the blow. ‘He was conscious only for a moment or two after he fell into my arms. I carried him to his room and the doctor was summoned, but he thinks as I do that it is only a matter of time. The wound is fatal. I have seen such wounds before and Mark cannot survive more than an hour or so.’

‘My God!’ The elderly man covered his face with shaking hands. ‘It beggars belief that he should come through so many battles with hardly a scratch only to die of gunshot wounds here in his own home.’

‘Whoever shot him did so at close range. He would have had little chance to defend himself,’ Adam said grimly. ‘I am sorry, sir. I wish I could give you better news, but there is no point in giving you false hope.’

‘Has the assassin been apprehended?’

‘Not to my knowledge. I have scarcely left Mark’s side until now. I hoped we might do something to save him, but all the doctor was able to do was to give him something that would ease his pain should he come to himself.’

‘If only I had been here when it happened...’

‘How could it have altered things?’ Adam looked at him with compassion. ‘Paul and I were here and there was nothing either of us could do.’

‘Has Hallam been sent for? Those two have always been close—as you know, Adam.’

‘Yes, sir. All of us loved Mark. He was like a golden god to the men he commanded. They would have followed him anywhere and he was universally loved by his fellow officers.’

‘Someone did not love him,’ Mark’s father said, his features harsh with grief. ‘I would have sworn he did not have an enemy in the world—but this was murder. Someone must have done this wicked thing deliberately—come here on purpose to kill Mark. Have you any idea of who might have done it?’

Adam shook his head. He could not forget his cousin’s last words, but how could he raise doubts in the grieving father’s mind? Mark might have been accusing his brother or he might have been warning them to watch out that the same fate did not happen to Paul. The fact that Paul had appeared carrying a shotgun that had been fired at about the time of the fatal shooting was damning—and yet it might be coincidental. Adam would not cast the first stone until he’d had time to investigate—even if it were the truth he would find it difficult to believe.

‘I believe I shall sit with my son now,’ Lord Ravenscar said, his face showing the extent of his shock and grief. ‘If you will excuse me...’

‘Of course.’ Adam watched him walk up the stairs and then turned towards the sound of voices coming from the large front parlour. There was the sound of crying and a babble of voices. If he were not mistaken, Lucy Dawlish had arrived.

He hesitated outside the parlour and then walked in on a touching scene. Lucy was in floods of tears at the news, as one would expect. Miss Jenny Hastings had her arms about her and was attempting to comfort her—and both Paul and Hallam were watching with varying degrees of distress and horror.

‘Oh, Adam,’ Lucy cried as he entered the parlour. ‘Tell me it isn’t true, I beg you. Please tell me Mark will recover and this is all a bad dream.’

‘I wish that I might do so,’ Adam said. Lucy’s grief was a piteous thing. He noticed that she threw a look almost of accusation at Paul, almost as if she blamed him for being hale when his brother lay dying. ‘However, the doctor told me that it is a matter of hours. He does not expect that Mark will recover consciousness.’

‘It cannot be.’ Lucy fell into a renewed fit of wild sobbing. ‘We were to be married...how can this have happened here? He promised he would come home safe from the war and we should marry. Now...’ She shook her head and broke from Jenny’s protective arms. ‘May I see him? I must say goodbye to him...’ She looked so fragile, so close to breaking that Adam was wrenched with pity for her.

‘His father asked for a little time alone with his son—but I am sure he will send for you as soon as he has made his own farewells.’

‘Adam...’ Hallam drew him to one side away from the others. ‘This is a bad business. Has the culprit been found?’

‘No, I have not been told of anything. We set men to searching immediately, but I am sure the rogue would have fled as soon as he’d worked his wicked plan.’

‘Does anyone have any idea who might have done this?’

‘My uncle asked me the same question. I have no answers and to my knowledge Paul has no more idea than I. I would have sworn that Mark did not have an enemy in the world. You know how much his men adored him. Even in society he was admired and liked—no one seemed to grudge him his good fortune. We all felt that he deserved it. He was a hero, generous and loved. Why should anyone want him dead?’

Hallam’s eyes flicked towards Paul for a moment, but then he gave a slight shake of his head, as though dismissing his thoughts.

‘I have no idea—but I shall discover the name of this devil if it takes me the rest of my life. I shall see that he pays the price of his evil deed.’

Paul had moved closer, listening to their conversation. ‘I intend to track the fellow down,’ he said and glanced at Lucy. ‘This has caused pain and grief to us all—and I shall never rest until the culprit is caught and brought to trial.’ He frowned as his cousins remained silent. ‘You can’t think I...? I shot a rat and I heard shots from the back parlour almost at the same moment.’

‘I think we should begin our investigation there,’ Adam said. ‘If the murder happened in the parlour, we should find evidence of it there.’

‘Yes, I’ll make a search at once,’ Hallam said. ‘Excuse me, I will leave you to comfort the ladies as best you can.’

Adam nodded, watching as his cousin walked away. He glanced at Paul. ‘You have not remembered anything? You did not see anyone? Did Mark have an enemy that you know of?’

‘I’ve already told you.’ Paul glared at him. ‘Just because I had a shotgun—for God’s sake, Adam, you know I would have given my life for his. He saved mine in France. I adored him. He was always my idol—the brother I admired and followed since I was in short breeches.’

Adam glanced towards Lucy, who had been approached by the housekeeper and was about to visit her dying fiancé.

‘No, no, Adam, do not think it,’ Paul said fiercely. ‘Whatever my feelings may be in that direction, she was Mark’s. I would not...you cannot imagine that I...’ He gave a snort of disgust and walked swiftly from the room, leaving Adam alone with Jenny.

‘I must apologise for bringing you here,’ he said. ‘I did not dream that we should find such a distressing situation.’

‘You could not have known,’ Jenny replied and dabbed at her cheeks. In trying to comfort Lucy, she had shed tears of her own. ‘It was a terrible, terrible thing to happen. I am sorry to be causing you some bother. I should not be here.’

‘I am glad you are,’ Adam said. ‘Lucy will have much to bear in the next few days and weeks. She will need a good friend. You came to share her happiness. Instead, you find yourself her comforter. It is not a pleasant situation but I believe you will rise to the occasion. Had you not been here I think she would have given way completely.’

‘She would have been at home when she received the news and her mama would have comforted her,’ Jenny said in a practical tone. ‘She came to collect me, of course—but at least it may give her the comfort of seeing him still alive. I understand that tomorrow might have been too late?’

‘I am certain it would. I do not imagine he will last the night. I do not know if that will comfort her at all—I can only pray it will once her first terrible grief has abated.’

‘You must all be grieving,’ Jenny said. ‘You held him and he was conscious for a moment—did he say anything of importance?’

‘A message for his father only. Had he given me a name I should have sought the villain out at once—’

A terrible cry from Lucy broke into their conversation. They looked at one another. Lucy’s wild sobbing from upstairs must mean only one thing.

‘Your cousin...should you go up to them?’

‘Yes, please excuse me. Forgive me, this is a terrible experience for all of us.’

Jenny nodded. ‘I beg you do not think of us—go to your family. If Lucy needs me, I shall be here in the parlour.’

* * *

Adam had already said his farewells to his cousin, but it was obvious that Lucy was in great distress, as was his uncle. He sent for the housekeeper, who tried to persuade Lucy to go to bed, but she could not be persuaded for more than half an hour, flinging herself on the bed and holding Mark’s hand as if she would never let go. Eventually she was persuaded to leave her fiancé’s body, led away by the housekeeper to a bedroom where she could weep in grief and given a hot tisane to calm her nerves.

Mark’s father sat pale and still looking ill and Adam persuaded him, too, to seek his bed while the housekeeper did what was needful for his cousin. He looked down at Mark, a mixture of regret, pity and anger in his handsome face.

‘Forgive me that I could do nothing,’ he said with the ring of emotion in his voice. ‘You saved my life, Cousin, but I could not save yours. One thing I promise you—I shall not rest until your murderer is brought to justice.

Leaving his cousin’s room, he went downstairs to the parlour. Jenny looked at him, grief and pity in her face.

‘Lucy is distraught, of course, as your uncle and cousin—and you, of course—must be—’ She broke off as Hallam returned to the front parlour.

‘I have found our evidence,’ Hallam said a look of grim determination of his face. ‘Some shots broke a Chinese vase before entering the wall in the back parlour, the garden entrance to which is just beyond the entrance to the walled garden, where Paul was shooting a rat. The culprit could not have entered from the walled garden or left that way. Anyone making an escape from the Chinese parlour would have had to leave by running across the open courtyard that leads to the stables.’

‘Then one of the grooms may have seen something,’ Adam said. ‘Shall I speak to them—or shall you?’

‘I shall question them,’ Hallam said and frowned. ‘I must say I am relieved to find the evidence. There is only a locked gate from the walled garden to the courtyard and anyone there would not have seen the murderer escape that way. Anyone in the walled garden would have had to go through the house if he came from there...unless he had a key to the gate?’

‘Paul came from the side of the house and must therefore have the key. If he were in the walled garden in the first place...’

‘You doubt it?’ Hallam’s brows arched. ‘I know your thoughts, Adam—but I cannot think...’ He glanced at Jenny. ‘We shall discuss this another time. Please excuse me.’

Adam glanced at Jenny again. ‘I fear this is most uncomfortable for you, Miss Hastings. Did the housekeeper bring you some tea?’

‘Thank you, she did. You must not be anxious for me, sir. I know you wish to be with your cousin. You have important business. I shall sit here quietly by myself while you do what you must. When Lucy is ready we shall return to her house.’

‘You are a sensible young woman,’ Adam said. ‘I can only repeat that I am glad you were here for Lucy’s sake—though I wish you had both been spared such a terrible tragedy.’

‘We must all wish that, sir.’

He inclined his head to her and then hurriedly left the room in his cousin’s wake. Jenny sat down again and let her eyes travel round the elegant parlour. It was a beautiful house and Mark would have inherited it in due course—and Lucy was to have been his wife.

Could his brother have killed him in the hope of stealing his birthright and his fiancée? His cousins had clearly considered it, to judge from their odd looks at him and each other. To Jenny’s impartial eyes the answer seemed clear. Paul Ravenscar had been shocked and distressed to see his brother bleeding and wounded in Mr Miller’s arms. Yet she sensed that both the cousins had half-suspected him, though reluctantly. Paul Ravenscar might covet his brother’s future wife, but Jenny was as certain as she could be that he had not murdered Mark to gain his heart’s desire and she felt sympathy for him. In the unfortunate circumstances there was bound to be some doubt, however.

As no one was likely to ask her for her opinion she could not give it. She was a bystander in all this and must make herself as unobtrusive as possible. Only when she was alone with Lucy and able to offer comfort might she speak her mind—should her friend wish to discuss the identity of the rogue who had killed the man she loved.

* * *

‘Why do you suspect Paul?’ Hallam demanded as the two men met on the way to the stables. ‘I know he had a gun—but he is devoted to Mark. You know it as well as I that he would have done anything for him...’

‘It was something Mark said as he fell into my arms—a warning that may be taken two ways.’ Hallam frowned as Adam repeated Mark’s cryptic words. ‘He may have meant that his father should protect Paul—or something else.’

‘Yes, I see. Now I understand why you have doubts, but I feel that Mark meant to warn you that his brother’s life could also be in danger.’

‘I shall interpret it that way for the moment, but I must keep an open mind. I care for them both and this is more painful than I can express.’

‘As much for Paul as for us,’ Hallam said. ‘To be suspected of harming his brother is terrible, especially as he is torn apart by his grief.’

‘Yes, I know. I could see it in his face, therefore I must accept that the warning was in order to protect Paul from this enemy—but who is the rogue and why would he wish Mark dead?’

‘If we knew that we might have some hope of discovering his identity. One of the grooms recalls seeing a man run past the stables and disappear into the orchard, where he must have left his horse. His impression was that the man was in his thirties, dark-haired and a gentleman by his clothes—and that is all he can recall. He was grooming one of the mares and did not bother to look more closely.’

‘That description might fit anyone,’ Adam said and ran his frustrated fingers through his hair. ‘What do we do next, Hal?’

‘I imagine we must make a search of Mark’s rooms. If there is a clue, it may tell us something.’

‘Then we must wait until after the funeral,’ Adam said. ‘We cannot search his rooms while he lies there—or until he has been interred in the family crypt.’

‘I see no help for it but to wait. I know you are impatient to begin your search, as I am—but it cannot be. We could make enquiries in the village as to whether a stranger has been seen. Someone may know more of this man Paul’s groom saw.’

‘It was Paul’s groom that saw the stranger running away?’

‘Yes, why?’ Hallam frowned. ‘No, no, that is too much, Adam. The man is as honest as the day and I would swear he had no thought of lying to protect Paul. You do him and Paul a disservice.’

‘Yes, I am not being fair,’ Adam admitted. ‘I shall accept that the murderer was a gentleman of sorts and that he came here to murder Mark—what we need to discover is why.’

‘I shall ride to the village to discover what I can.’

‘I think I should escort Lucy and Jenny to Dawlish Hall. I should not care for them to go alone with a murderer on the loose for we do not know if my cousin was killed because of his coming nuptials.’

‘By someone who wants Lucy for himself?’ Hallam nodded. ‘There are several men who might covet her for her beauty and her fortune. I believe her maternal grandfather left her more than twenty thousand pounds in trust, which may be broken on her marriage.’

‘I suppose that would be as good a motive as any for some men,’ Adam said and frowned. ‘Yet I have a suspicion that the mystery may go much deeper.’

‘Whatever, it will not do to have the ladies return to Dawlish alone. You must certainly escort them.’

* * *

‘Lucy does not wish to leave this evening. I shall sit with her and together we shall keep a vigil,’ Lord Ravenscar told Adam later that evening. ‘I have instructed Mrs Mountfitchet to provide rooms for the young ladies so that Lucy may retire when she feels able. The ladies wish to be together and it is the least we can do. I have sent word to Lady Dawlish. I asked Miss Hastings if she would wish for an escort to the Dawlish house, for it must be awkward for her here, but she says she shall not desert Lucy.’

‘I would not expect her to say anything else,’ Adam said. ‘You need not worry for her too much, sir. I shall take it upon myself to keep the young lady company. When the funeral is over I shall search his rooms for evidence—there may be something in his papers that will help us discover the truth of this terrible business.’

‘Yes, well, I shall leave it all to you and Hallam,’ Lord Ravenscar said. ‘Paul is in dark despair at the moment, but I think he will wish to help as soon as he is able.’

‘Yes, of course. We shall all do our utmost to bring this evil monster to justice, Uncle. I give you my word that if it is possible he will hang for his crimes.’

‘I know I can rely on you all. Now, if you will excuse me, I think I shall sit with Mark again for a while. Lucy ought to rest, but she cannot be brought to leave his side. Perhaps it is the best way for her to grieve, poor lass, but I shall persuade her to her bed as soon as I can.’

‘In the circumstances it is hardly to be expected that she would not be deeply affected. She would have been his wife next month.’

Lord Ravenscar passed a shaking hand over his brow and went away. Adam turned towards the parlour where he knew Miss Hastings to be sitting. Although it had been a warm day the evening had turned chilly and a fire had been lit in the parlour. Pausing on the threshold, Adam was struck by the quiet beauty of the young woman’s face as she sat staring into the flames. A glass of wine and a plate of almond comfits had been placed on a small wine table beside her and she had a book in her hand, but it was clear she had been unable to concentrate. She looked up as he entered the room, inquiry in her steady grey eyes.

‘Mr Miller—is there any news?’

‘I fear not and it may be some time before we can track him down, but I promised my cousin I would do it and I shall,’ he told her. He went forwards to warm himself by the fire as she sat down again. ‘You find us at a very sad time for all concerned, Miss Hastings.’

‘Do please call me Jenny,’ she said. ‘We have gone beyond formality, I think. I feel a part of this family for I grieve sincerely for your loss.’

‘How kind of you.’ Adam inclined his head. ‘How could it be different for at such times we are drawn together in grief. It is all the worse because we had such hopes for the future.’

‘Lucy is distraught,’ Jenny said. ‘I do not know how she can bear it, to be so close to happiness and have it snatched away so cruelly. I am determined to be here when she needs me. I know her mother is close at hand and I dare say she may come—but sometimes it is easier to talk to one’s friends, do you not think so?’

‘Yes, I agree entirely. This terrible tragedy will not change your plans?’

‘Oh, no. I shall stay for Lucy’s sake—and in truth for my own. I should not wish to return to my uncle’s house.’

‘Was he unkind to you?’

‘Not exactly—but he did not treat me just as he ought and I prefer to live at Dawlish for the moment. The family will be in mourning and perhaps there are ways in which I can help.’

‘Lucy will need a companion she can talk to. I dare say she may weep on your shoulder a deal of times.’

‘Then we shall weep together for I find this very sad.’

‘Indeed. I think my grief may ease a little in pursuit of my cousin’s killer. I can do nothing for the moment, but I intend to search him out—whoever he may be.’

‘Do you have a clue?’

‘One of the grooms saw a man running away—a gentleman by his clothes, dark hair and perhaps thirty-something in years.’

‘So many men fit that description. You will need more if you are to find him.’

‘Yes, I fear that is the case. We shall not give up until we catch him. There are ways to draw the devil out, I dare say.’

‘I wish you good fortune,’ Jenny said, and then as they heard voices in the hall she stood up once more and turned towards the door. ‘I believe that is Lady Dawlish...’

She was right for the lady in question surged into the room and opened her arms to Jenny, who went into a perfumed and tearful embrace with every evidence of warmth and affection.

‘Where is my poor darling girl?’ the lady said, sniffing into a handkerchief heavily doused in lavender water. ‘I do not know how she will bear this terrible blow.’

‘She is sitting with Mark,’ Jenny said. ‘I fear she is suffering greatly, ma’am, but we shall help her to bear her grief.’

‘He has gone then...’ Shock was in the lady’s face and she made the sign of the cross over her breast. ‘How terrible for Lord Ravenscar—and my poor child. She was so happy...’

‘Yes, I know. This has been a terrible blow—to lose the man she would have married, her childhood hero...it is devastating.’

‘You will not leave us,’ Lady Dawlish said. ‘My poor child will need you to support her in this her hour of need. I know it will be hard for you and not what was promised.’

‘Do not fear, ma’am. I shall not desert her. Lucy is as dear to me as the sister I never had. You may rely on me to be there for her whenever she needs me.’

‘I was certain I might.’ Lady Dawlish blew her nose. ‘My sensibilities are almost overset. I do not know how I could have borne to see my child in such affliction, but you will be my strength, Jenny. You will help us to face what must be.’

Adam saw that Jenny was well able to cope with the lady’s slightly histrionic behaviour and felt it a good thing that Lucy would not have to rely solely on her mama for support.

He rang the bell and asked for tea to give the distressed ladies some temporary relief and left them to comfort each other. Having remembered that Mark kept some of his belongings in the boot room, he decided to go through the pockets of his greatcoats. There might just be a letter or a note of some kind that would give him a starting point.

Watching Lady Dawlish’s distress and seeing the reflection of it in Jenny’s eyes had affected him deeply. Anger and grief mixed in him, sweeping through him in a great tide.

When he discovered who had murdered his cousin in cold blood he would thrash him to within an inch of his life.

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