Chapter Twenty

Matthew was satisfied that they'd made good time back into Town. As they had departed so early, it was still morning when they approached Lady Constance's Mayfair address.

"Is that Ludwig?" Sir Jonathan asked, peering out the carriage window.

"Ludwig?" Matthew said, throwing Sir Jonathan out of the way to get to the window. "What does he do here?"

"I've no idea, but likely he does nothing good."

"He's got a nerve, calling on a lady so early in the day."

Sir Jonathan tapped Matthew on the shoulder. "It is not too early in the day to call on a father, though."

"A father…" The very idea that Ludwig would have the audacity to speak to Lady Constance's father.

Matthew leapt out of his carriage, just as Ludwig descended his own. The fellow heard the commotion behind him and turned. He looked very surprised to see Matthew standing there.

"Lord Bramley," he said, clearly flustered. "I had thought I heard you'd gone to Scotland."

"I changed my mind," Matthew said curtly. "What do you do here at this time of the morning."

Mr. Ludwig puffed out his chest. "As it happens, I have an appointment with the earl."

"Over my lifeless body you do. Do not set one foot toward that door."

The man looked a combination of terrified and defiant. Matthew did not know what Ludwig would choose to do, but Matthew meant his threat—he would tackle the rogue to the pavement before he would allow an appointment with the earl to go forward.

He would say his piece to Lady Constance before any man appealed to the earl. Particularly Ludwig.

"Lord Bramley," Ludwig said, "I do not understand your threats. If Lady Constance has turned away from you, that is nothing to do with me."

"I warn you, Ludwig," Matthew said in a low and dark tone, "do not approach that door."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Constance had been bracing herself to go down and face Mr. Ludwig. She would tell him everything she suspected and then send him packing.

Before she could absolutely set off for the stairs, she heard a second set of carriage wheels roll to a stop in front of the house.

She hurried to the window to discover who else was arriving at such an hour.

Constance clutched the windowsill. "Letty," she said in a whisper. "It is Lord Bramley. Lord Bramley is here. He's not gone to Scotland—he is here."

Her maid hurried over to the window. Both Lord Bramley and Mr. Ludwig were staring threateningly at each other.

"Hadn't you best go down then?" Letty asked.

"Gracious yes," Constance said. She picked up her skirts and ran out of the room. She flew down the stairs and past a footman in the hall and threw open the front doors.

Her arrival seemed to take both gentlemen by surprise.

"Lady Constance," Lord Bramley said, with a bow.

"Ah, Lady Constance," Mr. Ludwig said with some sort of false bravado in his voice, "as we spoke of last evening, I have come to see your father."

"Spoke of?" Lord Bramley said. He looked at her and said, "You did not agree to this?"

"Of course the lady did," Mr. Ludwig said before she could answer. "Else why would I be here?"

"Of course I did not agree to anything of the sort, Mr. Ludwig," Constance said, feeling a fury inside her.

"Come now—"

Constance cut Mr. Ludwig off before he could go further. "Not only did I not agree to anything at all, Mr. Ludwig, but I caught you stealing from the charity event last evening. There was no guinea in the bowl, as you claimed. That caused me to think of a few other things that struck me as odd. I finally put it together—I know it all."

"I would put nothing past that scoundrel," Lord Bramley said. "But what is all?"

"There is no all," Mr. Ludwig said. He attempted to sound confident, but his voice wavered. He knew he was caught out.

"Ludwig," Lord Bramley said, "whatever it is that you've done, you are not welcome here. Be gone."

"I am not certain the earl would agree with you," Mr. Ludwig said, getting very red in the face.

"I can assure you that he does," Constance said. "I informed him of my utter distaste regarding you and as it happens, he very much agrees with me."

"Distaste is a strong..." Mr. Ludwig trailed off. Constance guessed he was thinking hard on how to salvage the situation he found himself in.

Lord Bramley said, "Ludwig, this is your last warning. Get in your hackney carriage and begone or expect to meet me on a green on the morrow. I would be fascinated to discover what gentleman would agree to act as your second."

Constance fairly burst with pride for Lord Bramley. How could she have ever condemned him when her eyes and ears had told her different? He was everything a gentleman should be—courteous and kind, but then daring and firm when it was required.

Though, she did not wish for him to risk his life in a duel! What if Mr. Ludwig was a good shot or skilled with a sword?

As it happened, Mr. Ludwig seemed to have no wish to try it out. He turned, and as he got into his carriage, he pointed at Lord Bramley. "He is poor, you know, Lady Constance."

"You are poor, Mr. Ludwig. I do not suppose Lord Bramley would steal a guinea from abandoned children."

Mr. Ludwig's cheeks reddened even more than they had been. Constance was certain it was just now dawning on the man that if he had not stolen that guinea, she might never have figured out what he'd done.

He would not know that getting away with it would not have done him any good. There was no inducement in the world that would have prompted her to accept him.

His carriage pulled away and it was not lost on Constance how amused the hackney driver who had driven him had been over witnessing the whole thing.

Just as that carriage set off down the street, another came down it at breakneck speed and clattered to a stop.

Much to Constance's amazement, Lord Bramley's father staggered out of it before it had even come to a full stop.

"Aha! I catch you at it before you have even set off!"

The earl's butler scrambled out of the coach too. What on earth was happening?

"Bramley," the earl went on, "I do not know who taught you to have such a nerve as to attempt an elopement!"

"An elopement?" Lord Bramley asked.

Constance might have asked the very same.

The earl paced back and forth on the pavement. "Do you think I am such a rube? You're off to Scotland and I am not to put the whole thing together? Nobody pulls the wool over my eyes! Also, I received an anonymous note telling me!"

Another anonymous note? Why were people forever sending these anonymous notes?

As that thought drifted by, another arrived to take its place. An elopement. To Scotland. She would go in a heartbeat.

"An elopement?" she said, looking toward Lord Bramley.

"I hadn't thought," Lord Bramley said, "I had rather hoped for St. George's…"

"I would meet you at St. George's," Constance said.

"No you would not!" the earl shouted. "It is impossible!"

Just then, the front doors opened. Constance's father and the countess appeared. "What on earth?" he said.

Constance ignored her father and walked toward Lord Bramley. Lord Bramley walked toward her.

"I came to dispute whatever it was that Lady Juniper planted in your mind. Whatever it was, it is not true."

"I know it, and it was never Lady Juniper," Constance said.

They stood very close now, their noses nearly touching. "Might you consider my suit then?" Lord Bramley whispered.

"Consider it considered and accepted," Constance said softly.

"But I must be absolutely transparent. My estate, rather my father's estate, needs much management to get it in order. I can only assure you that I have taken the required steps. If you will trust me."

"We can live in a tent, if that becomes necessary."

Lord Bramley used his forefinger to tip her chin and his lips gently kissed her own.

Somewhere in the distance, and it did seem very far away, Constance heard Lord Bramley's father shouting.

"Never mind him," Lord Bramley said. "Shall we get into my carriage? We can ride round the town and talk in private."

Constance nodded. There was not anywhere she would not go with him.

They climbed into the carriage as Lord Bramley directed the coachman they were to take a ride round the park. Sir Jonathan exited out the other door while he said, "I'll manage these two fathers."

The coachman set off. Lord Bramley's father shouted, "There they go! Are we to do nothing? They are eloping!"

The coachman called down, "We're just driving round the park, my lord."

Constance peered out the carriage window to see her own father appearing rather slack jawed, her mother amused, and Sir Jonathan speaking into Lord Bramley's father's ear. Well, they could all react as they might. There was no turning back now and Constance was glad of it.

Lord Bramley took her round the waist and slid her toward him to kiss her once more. For quite a while, actually. His lips were rather wondrous—she could not have known such wondrous things could be done with them.

She ran her fingers through his lovely dusky hair—it would be hers to watch lighten in the summer and darken in the winter. His lips were her lips now.

Constance could not be certain precisely how much time passed, but for the fact that they had suddenly got on the carriage road in the park.

Lord Bramley seemed to get hold of himself, though Constance rather wished he would not. He pulled back and took her hand.

"I have much to explain," he said.

"As do I," Constance said, "but you explain first."

"My father has worked very hard to attempt a match between myself and either Lady Juniper or Miss Semper, on account of their large dowries. It seems it has ever been the habit of my family that a new wife coming in is to temporarily solve all money problems. I was not having it for a moment and knowing that you do not come with…well three thousand is a respectable dowry but not one that could rescue an estate that was teetering toward failure, I was determined to remedy that."

"How did you do it, though?" Constance asked.

"You remember when I traveled home, looking to make some improvements?"

Constance nodded, because of course she did remember. It had been one of those facts that had seemed to condemn him. It had seemed as if he were making plans for her money.

"I took Sir Jonathan with me, as he is an experienced landowner. I discovered the management of the estate was entirely lax and vast resources ignored. I've set everything to rights and informed my father of how we are to go forward—I have no need of a dowry, large or small or somewhere in the middle. I am free to marry for love."

"Are you?" Constance asked. What a man he was. He'd gone to the estate to make it produce so he might afford to choose her.

"I think you know my feelings," Lord Bramley said.

"I think you'd better say them."

Lord Bramley leaned his head back. "I am not one of those gentlemen who easily spouts poetry. All I can say is how it seemed to me when we met. It seemed as if I saw her. The her I had begun to wonder if I would ever see. There you were and it was as natural as the sun rising in the sky. Your looks, well, does anybody have such a lovely hair or expressive brown eyes? Not that I've seen."

Constance was rather taken aback. Of all the things that Lord Bramley might mention as attractive about her, her drab brown coloring had not been one of them.

"I don't know if you realize that, in the candlelight, there are glints of gold and red in your hair."

She had not known that. Or if she ever had noticed it, she'd not marked it as anything special.

"And then," the lord went on, "when we spoke, well of course it was settled in my mind at least."

"Was it?"

"Very settled. Though, I still do not know what it was that suddenly turned you against me. You said it was not Lady Juniper? I was certain that it was."

"Not at all," Constance said. "Lady Juniper and Miss Semper have been stalwart friends."

"The Stalwarts," Lord Bramley said. "I did hear about that."

"Yes, well perhaps you did not hear all of it," Constance said. "All of it is quite the story, actually."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Matthew had achieved his aim. He'd gone to Lady Constance's house to demand an opportunity to press his suit.

Of course, the last person he'd expected to encounter was Ludwig, though that gentleman had been sent packing soon enough.

Then Matthew's father arrived with some cockamamie story of an elopement to Scotland. Really, the old soldier had quite the imagination. Matthew had never had the intention of sullying Lady Constance with the gossip around an elopement. He intended to wed her in a church, with all they were close to invited to witness it.

None of it much mattered, though. He'd known the moment he'd looked at her when she'd run out of the house that something had changed. She did not despise him any longer.

He'd got her into his carriage as fast as possible so she would not change her mind again.

Based on the past hour, there was no possibility that she would change her mind. They fit together like hand and glove and there was nothing more natural than kissing her—a thing he'd thought of a thousand times.

He'd since told her of the improvements to the estate. Now, she was to tell him what had caused her to turn away from him, and then back to him again.

"You see," Lady Constance said, "Lady Juniper had the idea of forming The Stalwarts to protect us from fortune hunters."

"Oh I see," Matthew said, "and I was suspect number one, I suppose."

"Well yes," Lady Constance said. "It all began when I spotted Lady Juniper and Miss Semper on your barge for the regatta."

"That was my father's doing," Matthew said.

"I thought it might be, but I could not be certain. And then you went to your estate, to make plans you said, and Lady Juniper pointed out that a gentleman coming into a large settlement will always wish to make plans to his estate."

"Now I am lost. Did Lady Juniper live under the illusion that I would pursue her? Or Miss Semper for that matter?"

"Not exactly. Do you remember when I said that Lady Juniper admired you?"

"Rather. It was a ghastly idea."

"Hmm. The real idea was to see if you would turn your attentions, because of how much she brought. Then you did not and I thought, well I thought…"

"You thought I preferred you and had no interest in Lady Juniper's money, and you were quite right to think it."

"Yes, I did begin to hope for it…until I received the letter."

"What letter?"

"It was sent anonymously, and it said that you were leaving it to your father to chase round Lady Juniper and Miss Semper but that I was the real target because you knew my secret. You'd found it out from a sea captain."

Whatever Matthew had thought Lady Constance might say, talking of a sea captain and a secret had not been on the horizon.

"You are not secretly married?" he asked, the idea snaking through his insides like poison. "You did not run off with a sea captain? Or you did not have a sea captain perform a wedding?"

Lady Constance looked at him as if he had two heads. "Goodness no. The sea captain knew I was an heiress."

Matthew breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, I suppose three thousand would seem a fortune to a sea captain. But what was the secret?"

"That my dowry is more than three thousand," Lady Constance said. "It is twenty-three thousand."

Matthew laughed. "I see you jest, though I do not quite understand it."

"I do not jest, though."

"Surely…"

"I do not jest," she said.

From the look on her face, it did not seem as if she was jesting. Nevertheless, the whole notion was absurd. If Lady Constance Condower was an heiress coming with twenty-three thousand pounds, certainly every person in London would know it, and talk about it.

Over the next half hour, Lady Constance explained how it had all come about—she'd had a very rich relative in New York that nobody had been aware of. Lady Constance and her mother had kept up a correspondence with the gentleman, though even they themselves had not had the first idea of his fortune.

Then she'd told him of the anonymous letter arriving that accused him of chasing after the money and how she was now all but certain that the author had been Ludwig.

"I know I threatened to challenge him not an hour ago," Matthew said. "Now I really will have to—he cannot be allowed to avoid all consequences for such dastardly behavior."

As Matthew was thinking he'd ask Sir Jonathan to act as his second, Lady Constance snuggled under his arm. "I beg you do not," she said. "We cannot prove it was him and I would be very put out if my gentleman was to end up dead on a green."

"It would not be me ending dead, though," Matthew said.

"Very well, then I would be put out to discover my gentleman on trial or fled to the continent."

"Hm, well I cannot very well go forward if Lady Constance considers me her gentleman."

"I do, entirely."

It occurred to Matthew that he'd got Lady Constance into a carriage and ravaged her as much as he could before a vicar had put his name to it but had somehow failed to confirm that there would be a wedding.

"I will always be your gentleman, will I not? What I mean to say is, you do intend on marrying me? Because I would not consider anybody else. If you were to say no, well, I would become an old bachelor, bitter and alone."

"Gracious, we cannot have that," she said, upturning her face and kissing him on the lips.

They were satisfied to occupy themselves thus, until another idea began to form in Matthew's mind. He cupped her face and said, "I have made a decision. Well, an idea really, I would like to know what you think of it. I will not have your dowry propping up an estate that needs no propping up. Aside from your pin money, which should be whatever you wish it to be, what if we used the rest to purchase another estate? We could afford one not overlarge and then we would be on firm footing for the sons and daughters that may come."

"Do what you like, Bramley," she whispered. "I trust you."

"No, I wish to do what we like. What you like. After all, it's your money."

"It will soon be your money."

"It will be our money, but decisions around it must be yours."

Lady Constance seemed surprised by the idea, and thoughtful. "If that is your true wish, then I approve of buying an estate—it is an eminently sensible idea. Though, I would like to set aside a thousand pounds for the Home for Abandoned Children. It would be fitting, I think. Mr. Ludwig stole from them and I will replace it with a thousand pounds. It is worth every pound, as had he not stolen those coins, I might never have realized the truth."

"Consider it done. Now, we'd best return to the house so that I can approach your father for his permission and calm my hysterical father."

"Your poor earl," Constance said, laughing.

"He's deserved all the upset that has come to him," Matthew said. "He has acted injudiciously, if I am to be kind about it."

"And your mother? What will she think about our engagement?"

Matthew smiled. "She will claim it is the way of the world and be quite satisfied with the idea."