Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28

R ob's ankle was on fire by the time he reached the house, but he ignored the pain. A groom stood near the steps holding a horse with a side-saddle on it; Miss Stretton must still be in the house. Was Bengrove here, too?

"Did Captain Bengrove and Miss Stretton go on the picnic?" Rob asked the groom, trying to regain his breath.

"Not that I know of, sir, but…"

The rest of the man's words were lost behind him as Rob ran up the steps and into the open door. "Where is Miss Stretton?" he demanded of the footman on duty.

"Er, in the parlour, sir."

"Alone?"

"Captain Bengrove was with her, sir."

Damn—just what he'd feared. " Which parlour?"

The footman pointed to a closed door to one side. Rob hobbled over and tried to open it. As he did, Lady Bengrove and Lady Misterton descended the stairs. "What is happening here? What is all this fuss about?"

"Fetch the key," Rob ordered the footman, ignoring Lady Bengrove. "Now! "

A muffled thump sounded from behind the door, and he forgot the two women. He had to find a way into the room. Getting in through a window was likely to be quicker than attempting to break in through the door.

He hobbled outside as quickly as his ankle would let him, and peered through the window. He couldn't see anyone, but only part of the room was visible. The ground floor of the house was not far above the level of the flowerbeds, but high enough that he couldn't reach the latch.

"Come here," he called to the groom, feeling in his pockets. "Give me a leg up."

The groom cupped his hands with his back against the wall, and Rob stepped up, steadying himself with one hand on the embrasure. The handle of his pocketknife served to break one of the panes, and he reached in to undo the latch. The lack of sound from the room was worrying, but he was nearly inside.

He jumped down. The groom helped him to push the lower sash up as far as it would go, and he swung himself over the windowsill and into the room.

"Captain! Over here."

Miss Stretton's voice, thank God! He stepped into the room to see her in one corner with a poker in her hand. Her hair had come loose, and her face was pale. Bengrove lay unmoving on the floor nearby.

"Are you hurt?"

"No." Her voice wobbled on the word, and she dropped the poker. Rob strode forward and helped her into a chair. "Put your head on your knees if you feel faint."

He waited for her brief nod, then turned back to Bengrove. He wanted to comfort her, but ensuring that her assailant did no further harm was of first importance. Rob rolled him over, noting blood on his temple and a small bronze ornament on the floor nearby. Bengrove groaned, his eyes fluttering.

"I think the key is in his waistcoat pocket," Miss Stretton said. "I didn't want to get too close…" She swallowed hard.

"You did the right thing." Keeping a wary eye on Bengrove, Rob crouched down in front of her. "You're safe now." The urge to take her in his arms was strong, but he resisted.

She nodded, dashing tears from her eyes with a shaking hand.

The door rattled, and someone banged on it. "Open the door, Bengrove!"

"I'd better let them in before they break it down," Rob said, waiting for her to nod before bending to search Bengrove's pockets. "If you move, I'll kill you," he said, quietly enough for only Bengrove to hear him. Bengrove opened his eyes again, but didn't seem able to focus on Rob. He would be no problem for a few moments.

He unlocked the door, and hurried back to Bengrove as George Yelden burst in, followed by Lady Bengrove and her friend and several interested servants. "She's unhurt," Rob said to Yelden. "Get rid of the onlookers, will you? And get a couple of footmen to lock up this piece of scum." He nudged Bengrove with one foot, none too gently.

Yelden ushered the servants out, but Lady Bengrove ignored him and came into the room. Her impression, initially rather smug, changed to consternation as she took in her son lying on the floor.

"Alfred!" She rushed over and knelt on the floor beside him. He groaned again, and Lady Bengrove glared up at Rob. "What have you done to him?"

Jo roused herself at Lady Bengrove's words. Captain Delafield had only just arrived; how could Lady Bengrove think he was responsible?

"Ignore her for now," the captain said quietly. "There'll be time for explanations later. Shall I escort you to your room?"

She saw his gaze move from her face to her hair and then back. "I must look a fright."

"You look…" He broke off and shook his head, an odd expression in his eyes. "Come, before too many interested spectators gather." He offered his arm and she took it, grateful for his assistance. Whatever had given her the strength to throw things at Alfred had deserted her, and her knees nearly gave way when she stood. She swallowed against a feeling of nausea .

"The library, please take me to the library." She wasn't injured; she only needed a few minutes to sit quietly and put herself to rights.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded, hearing the captain send someone for her maid and tell a footman to keep everyone else out, but the voices seemed to come from a long way off. Then a comforting arm went around her waist, and she was held close as he helped her onto the sofa. Gentle pressure on the back of her neck pushed her head down, and she rested it in her hands.

"Just breathe."

She did. Martha arrived, and was sent for tea and biscuits, and when Jo finally raised her head, she found the captain kneeling before her with a glass of wine in one hand.

"No, thank you. The tea will do me more good."

He set the glass on a nearby table and drew up a chair. "Miss Stretton, are you truly unhurt?"

"Truly." She grimaced. "Apart from feeling a complete fool for ever liking him in the first place."

He stood, wincing. "You shouldn't feel that way. You were the subject of a deliberate… campaign, I suppose." His expression held concern, and understanding.

"How did you know? To come back, I mean."

"Your father mentioned that he was expecting Bengrove to agree to breaking your betrothal. I assumed he'd made some watertight financial arrangements that would prevent Bengrove or his family running through your dowry. But from what I overhead Bengrove say in Verdun, it was clear that he'd set out to entice you and would stop at nothing to get his hands on your inheritance. Apart from Chadwick, no-one else here knew Bengrove's true character, and I was afraid he might try something… underhand if he could get you alone. I did warn your father, but I didn't repeat everything Bengrove said. If I had, I suspect he would have shown Bengrove the door before now."

"It is not your fault, Captain. It was unfortunate that Alfred came across me when no-one else was around."

"How came you to be separated from the rest of the picnic party? "

"Catherine Bengrove wanted to see me; she sent a message just as I was setting out."

He frowned. "Mrs Bengrove came to the shooting with her husband and Lord Bengrove."

Jo stared at him. "Her maid came with a message." Which must have been a lie, if Catherine had not even been in the house at the time. "They tricked me!"

"Do not blame yourself, Miss Stretton!" He sounded almost harsh, and she blinked. "I'm sorry. But none of the blame is yours. You could not know what they might do."

"Jo. All my friends call me Jo."

"Jo, then. Will you tell me what happened in the parlour before I arrived? Lady Bengrove is likely to try to absolve her son of any blame."

"He asked to speak to me, so we went into the parlour. He said if he couldn't have me no-one would." She shuddered at the memory. "I hit him with a heavy ornament that was on the escritoire." She thought she'd killed him at first, but when she'd crouched to check, his faint groans and the occasional fluttering of his eyelids had both reassured her and worried her. "I picked up the poker in case he regained consciousness. I was about to call for help when you broke the window."

He smiled, but without real humour, and she thought she detected both sympathy and admiration in his eyes. "You saved yourself, Miss Stretton. Jo."

She shook her head, but Martha hurried in before she could speak, carrying a tray with a pot of tea and a plate with cake and biscuits. She set it on the table beside the sofa. "There's carriages coming up the drive, miss."

Captain Delafield stood and limped over to a window that looked to the front of the house. "The shooting party," he said. "Your father will be wanting to know why I left so precipitously."

Jo put her hand to her hair. Martha pulled a comb from her apron pocket. "Shall I tidy your hair for you, miss? "

"I'll tell your father what happened," the captain said. "That will give you a little time to compose yourself."

"Thank you."

He limped out, and Jo sipped tea while Martha made her look more presentable. She was dismayed to find that her hand shook as she held the cup, but she managed to drink without spilling any, and by the time she had eaten a piece of cake she felt calmer.

George Yelden was in the entrance hall as Rob arrived there, about to go out to meet the carriages. "Is Jo well?" he asked, concern clear in his face and voice.

"She will be," Rob said. "He did no physical harm."

"Thank heavens. I should have waited for her. I would have, if I'd known he was still in the house."

"You arrived soon after me—how did you know to come back?"

"I caught up with Mama's carriage, and she said something about Bengrove coming on with his mother. I thought he'd gone with the shooting party."

"It's done now, Yelden. Bengrove was out cold when I arrived; if I hadn't come, you would have taken care of matters."

"Captain!" Stretton hurried up the steps, Lord Bengrove and his elder son not far behind. "What is wrong? Where is Jo?"

"She is well. Shall we go somewhere more private?" Better he recount the tale than make Miss Stretton relive it again by telling her father.

"Breakfast room." Yelden led the way.

Stretton's face paled as Rob summarised what had happened. "She will be well once she has got over her fright," he finished.

"I've sent for Mama and Mrs Stretton to return," Yelden said. "And sent someone for the doctor. Although Bengrove's properly conscious again, with his dear mama pretending to weep over him."

"Pretending?" Rob asked.

"My hearing is better than she thought," Yelden gave a humourless smile. "She told him to agree with what she said, and they might be able to retrieve the situation. It seems the whole family is cut from the same cloth."

"How can they think I would allow my daughter to marry someone who forced himself on her?" Stretton shook his head. "I will go to her now. Captain, I cannot thank you enough for your timely arrival. George, can you see to it that the Bengroves are kept away from Jo—and my wife, when she returns—until we are ready to speak to them? They will not give up easily, I suspect."

"Certainly, Uncle. And, as long as the doctor says it is safe to move Bengrove, the whole family will be leaving as soon as you are finished with them."

When Chadwick arrived back at the house, he and Rob whiled away an hour in the billiards room until the butler came and asked them to join the company in the main parlour. Miss Stretton was sitting on a sofa with her mother; she had changed her gown, and was still pale but looking composed. Mr Stretton stood behind them; he waved Rob and Chadwick towards a couple of nearby chairs. Lord and Lady Yelden and George sat nearby.

"You may summon the Bengroves, Stevenson," Lord Yelden said; the butler bowed and withdrew.

A few minutes later, Lady Bengrove swept into the room, followed by her husband and her younger son. Bengrove's face was pale beneath the bandage wrapped around his head. Playing the wounded hero, Rob thought cynically. Lady Misterton entered behind them.

"There she is." Lady Bengrove pointed an accusatory finger. "The hussy who encouraged my son and then nearly killed him when he wanted nothing more than a kiss from his betrothed!"

Rob got to his feet, not out of respect for the Bengroves, but to remove them from the room if Miss Stretton wished it. Chadwick and Yelden did the same. Rob looked at Miss Stretton, then her father.

"That is a lie," Miss Stretton declared firmly, before her father could speak. "Alfred threatened me when I said I didn't want to marry him. Then he assaulted me."

"A jilt, as well as an encroaching hussy!" Lady Misterton exclaimed .

Rob looked at Mr Stretton again, but he gave a tiny shake of the head. Letting the Bengroves show their hand, Rob guessed.

"I meant you no harm, my dear," Bengrove said, swaying artistically. "I wished only to convince you that we were well suited. But I see how it is." Bengrove looked from Miss Stretton to her cousin. "You prefer to spend your time with Yelden, or these men whom you hardly know." He shot a glance of pure venom at Rob and Chadwick. "Have they sampled your charms as well as?—"

Rob started forward, but Yelden beat him to it and slammed a fist into Bengrove's face. He collapsed onto the floor, accompanied by a scream from Lady Bengrove.

"This has gone far enough." Mr Stretton stepped forwards. "Enough, I say!" Lady Bengrove stopped complaining, and Mr Stretton turned to Lord Bengrove. "You and your family have now gone your length, Bengrove. Your son attacked my daughter. There will be no marriage."

"It's more a case of whether my son is prepared to marry your daughter," Lord Bengrove sneered. "Once word spreads about her actions, her reputation will be gone. Who is to say that my son is the first she has been… alone with?"

Rob's hands clenched into fists. The father was as vile as his son.

"That won't reflect well on you, either, Stretton," Lord Bengrove went on. "If you refuse to change the settlements to something acceptable to me, your daughter won't be able to show her face in polite society again."

Rob forced himself to stay silent—any intervention on his part now might raise questions that could make Miss Stretton's situation worse. But her cousin took a step forward. "I say, Lord Bengrove, that is?—"

"Allow me to deal with this," Mrs Stretton said firmly, to the surprise of both Rob and the Bengroves, from their widened eyes. Mrs Stretton looked at the Bengroves. "You planned this before you arrived, did you not? Hence abusing Lord and Lady Yelden's hospitality by bringing an uninvited guest who is a well-known gossip." She turned her attention to Lady Misterton. "You should think how spreading gossip about your host's family will affect the invitations you receive." She glared at Lady Misterton, who cast her eyes down but made no reply.

"As for your son," she said, turning to Lord Bengrove, "I blame myself for having been taken in by him two years ago, and giving my blessing to his courtship. I was under the mistaken assumption that a connection with the aristocracy would be the best way to ensure my daughter's future happiness. Your family's actions have disabused me of that notion. It would be better for our family to be ostracised than to have your son inflicted on my daughter."

"Well said, Aunt Frances!" Yelden glared at Lord Bengrove. "You are wrong about Jo's marriage prospects. I'd marry her myself if needed to maintain her good name."

No! If she must marry for respectability, let it be me.

Rob just stopped himself speaking. He was relieved to see Miss Stretton frown and give a little shake of her head. "Thank you, George, but that will not be necessary."

"We'll see about that," Lady Bengrove hissed. "I outrank you, Lady Yelden, and you, Mrs Stretton. If I say so, the ton will readily believe that a cit's daughter toyed with the affections of an honourable man!"

"They will believe the truth," Rob stated. This he could say without risking his correspondence with Miss Stretton being discovered. "Your son was extremely disrespectful when speaking about Miss Stretton when we were in Verdun, in private and in public. He made it clear that he had courted her only for the money he hoped to gain through the marriage."

Lord Bengrove sneered. "Who will believe a farmer over a viscount?"

"They will believe Viscount Moorven, who also heard him say those things." Most of them, anyway.

"As did a number of other officers," Chadwick put in. "Ones who hardly knew your son, and could not be accused of any bias against him."

"Thank you, Captain. Lieutenant," Mr Stretton said, then addressed Lord Bengrove. "You and I need to have a discussion. One that I think you will not wish to have in front of all these people." His gaze moved to Lady Misterton and back.

"And the rest of you may pack your belongings," Lord Yelden said. "I will order your carriages to be ready in an hour."

"But Alfred isn't—" Lady Bengrove started.

"I neither know nor care about your son's state of health," Lord Yelden interrupted. "He will not die by being taken to the village inn. None of you is welcome in this house at any time."

"Bravo, Papa."

Lord Yelden glared at his son, who merely grinned. Lady Yelden turned to Mrs Stretton. "Come, Frances. And you, Jo. If these people wish to argue, they may do so to an empty room."

Yelden came over to Rob and Chadwick. "Shall we escape to the inn for a while?"

"Sounds like a good plan," Chadwick said. "As long as it's not the one the Bengroves might end up in."

"And if I can go in a carriage," Rob added. A few pints of ale might dull the pain in his leg.