Unrivalled Regency: A Gallant Gamble Part 12

They had barely talked as they had entered the dusty house in St. George Street the night before, but as Giles had lit the candles and considered the sleeping arrangements there hadn't been the condemnation and fury that Geoffrey had expected. Giles had simply reminded him to be about early for the special licence and had then retreated to the larger of the bedrooms. Geoffrey thought that the man was probably so angry that he was speechless.

He had turned to the study, dusted off the upholstery in the one big chair and sat down to think. His first major worry was about his and Charlotte's accommodation. Until he could arrange transport home, he'd have to find somewhere suitable to rent immediately, though how he was meant to do that with virtually no funds of his own, he had no idea. Nearly all the money that he held in his purse belonged to Alexander and Giles, who had set him up with an ent.i.tlement for the duration of his stay in London. Neither of them had stipulated what it was meant to cover, but Geoffrey had a.s.sumed that it was for incidentals that either Olivia or Charlotte might need when they were about in town. He hadn't spent a penny of it so far.

He had taken out the purse and rattled it. There were several coins inside, but he had left the best of it at the Albany, wary of thieves or vagabonds taking advantage of him and stealing his friends' money. He had tipped the coins into his palm. Several of them were gold and he closed his eyes as the guilt swamped him. Giles and Alexander had trusted him and he had let them both down so badly. He counted the coins and put them away again, vowing to spend them only on the things that Charlotte would need in her new situation.

Her new situation. He buried his face in his hands.

A Lady to become the wife of a stable master!

And that was only if Alexander would still want him to remain at Ormond. The scandal might mean too much. He'd have to look at what cottages were available in Oakley.

A cottage, for a Lady! Disgust built within him at what he had done. He could barely think of it. She couldn't possibly live in one of the cottages in Oakley. The embarra.s.sment would be impossible to overcome. No matter what his position in life, Charlotte was a Lady, the daughter of a Lord, and she deserved to be treated as one. He had groaned as he ran his fingers through his already dishevelled hair.

She must be so angry with him, so hurt and so b.l.o.o.d.y disappointed, but there was nothing to be done. They were to be married. His heart had pounded in his chest, threatening to burst from his ribs. He had pushed the chair back and risen from the seat. Taking up a candle, he had ventured into the gloomy hallway and up the cobwebbed staircase. Remembering the place from their visit earlier in the day, he had walked along the corridor and into the only other room that held any furniture.

Beneath the dust-laden cover, the sheets, though unaired, looked clean enough. He'd stripped his fine clothes, folded them and laid them carefully on the end of the large bed then tossed and turned half the night before waking early amid the sounds of hustle and bustle outside his door.

On rising, he'd discovered the house already overrun with servants and he had quickly dressed and left to wake the Bishop. On his return journey he had detoured along one of the many narrow streets surrounding them and found himself gazing into jeweller's windows. One particular establishment caught his eye with a small but select display of the prettiest sapphires he had ever seen. The exquisite stones exactly matched the colour of Charlotte's eyes and he couldn't resist venturing inside.

The ring he had selected was as beautiful as his bride, and he had handed over the money from his purse without another thought. It was the least he could do for the woman who had told him that she'd had nothing before Giles had come into her life. He tucked the bill into his pocket and vowed to replace the money from his own savings as soon as he returned to Ormond.

The moment he had slid the ring on her finger was the most proud and yet most d.a.m.ning on his life.

She was his! His wife! His love!

He had wanted to shout it from the rooftops, but instead he had leaned forwards and brushed his lips across her forehead as he silently begged her to forgive him.

The brandy was working. His mind dulled to the noises about him and he stuck his legs out under the table as he attempted to sit more comfortably. He didn't want to go back to St. George Street. He didn't want to hear sobs as she realized how bleak her future would be. The thought of her tear-filled eyes was too much to bear and he picked up the bottle of brandy, not bothering with the gla.s.s as he sloshed the fiery liquid down his throat.

He didn't know how much time pa.s.sed, but the woman who had served him earlier was suddenly back at his side. She appeared a lot prettier than she had earlier in the evening. Her face had softened and her dark hair glistened in the candlelight. Ruby red lips moved and she gestured to her side. He blinked as another woman suddenly appeared. She was blonde and blue eyed and smiling warmly.

"Charlotte?" He half rose from his seat as he croaked, the brandy having burnt his throat raw. The woman nodded.

"I'll be whoever you want me to be, my lover. Now come on upstairs with Bernadette and meself and we can show you how to forget your troubles for a few hours. I'm sure a big lad like you can manage to satisfy two women and we promise to be gentle with ye and your pocket." She held out her hand as he squinted up at her. The two figures wavered about and solidified into one before separating yet again. He stared through bleary eyes at the blonde woman. Could it be that she had come to find him. Had she forgiven him?

"Charlotte? I'm so sorry. It wasn't meant to happen like this. Can you forgive me?" His tongue felt swollen in his mouth and he wasn't sure that the words came out correctly, but Charlotte seemed happy enough. Her smile widened.

"Course I can. Don't worry about a thing. Bernadette and I'll look after ye, me lover." Her voice sounded strange and he hesitated for a moment before she tipped her head and held out her hand. Geoffrey stood up too quickly and swayed violently as he placed his hand within her palm to steady himself. Her fingers felt cold and bony but she gripped him well enough. She gave him a slight tug. "Come on, dearie. You look as though you could do with a rest."

He nodded at her and leaned closer to her ear.

"So tired," he mumbled as he nuzzled her neck, drawing back a fraction as the strange scent of onions and old cooking fat caught his nostrils, but he moved forwards as he was pushed gently from behind. He tripped over a stool and grabbed a man's shoulder. The man leapt up in surprise and stared for a single moment into Geoffrey's eyes. Geoffrey stumbled backwards. Why was Rookwood here? The man turned away quickly and lifted his collar. There was the rustle of Charlotte's silk skirts beside him and she squeezed his hand tighter as she pulled him from the taproom.

Stairs came into view, dark and dusty with naked candles lit on either side. He stopped and stared upwards. How had he arrived back in St. George Street? Another gentle shove in his back and one foot fell in front of the other. Skirts swayed in front of him again and he noticed blonde curls rolling down her back.

Something was spoiling his vision. Her hair parted over one shoulder and dark strands came into view. They looked more like the dull ruined wheat that had filled the fields at Ormond not so many years previously.

He shook his head and hesitated, but she suddenly turned, smiled sweetly and beckoned him up the stairs.

Charlotte sat quietly in the freshly cleaned drawing room. She glanced out onto the street for what felt like the thousandth time. Her own reflection stared back at her in the gla.s.s. Night-time had fallen hours ago and Geoffrey still hadn't appeared.

There was a soft knock at the drawing room door and she looked up to see Coalport standing there, a tray of tea in his hands. He put the tray on the table and poured her a cup of the hot liquid before he moved towards the window. He stared out into the darkness.

"Begging your pardon, but it's past midnight. I'm worried, my Lady. He's not the sort to stay out like this. I think that he has met with a misfortune." Genuine concern filled the valet's gentle voice.

Charlotte put down the pattern book that she had been pretending to look through. She huffed out a breath and slumped in the chair. There was no point in hiding her own concerns, but she attempted to remain calm.

"I don't know. Maybe he has left town to head back to Ormond. He wasn't keen on coming here in the first place, and marrying me certainly wasn't on his agenda," she admitted miserably.

Coalport sighed.

"If you don't mind me saying, marrying you was the best thing he could have ever done. I know that he is more than fond of you, but he has been having a hard time adjusting to his new station in life. Some men are too humble for their own good, if you ask me."

Charlotte choked back her tears as she wished that Anne or even Olivia were here with her. She was worried to death, sick at heart and thoroughly miserable. Coalport gave her a tender smile and she gave up the fight to be strong.

"He hates me. When I promised him that I would improve, he told me that he didn't want a dutiful wife." Sobs wracked her slender frame and she was suddenly enveloped in a warm embrace. She dropped her head onto Coalport's shoulder and cried hot tears into his jacket as he held her tenderly.

Coalport shushed her desperate weeping.

"My dear, you are mistaken. Oliv... er, the d.u.c.h.ess has told me everything. All is not as it seems, I am sure, but that is not our first concern. If you will let me, I will go and ask Lord Caithwell to join in my search. London is not always friendly to people as honest and open hearted as Mr. Talbot. However strong and tall he is, he might not fare well in some situations."

Charlotte stood back from Olivia's lover. He handed her a handkerchief and she blew her nose before she nodded and gave him a despondent smile.

"I'm sorry to be such a watering pot, but this is not how I expected to ever spend my wedding night. The stress appears to have overcome me..." She took a few gulps of air before speaking again. "Yes, fetch Giles. He will know what to do."

Coalport held her shoulders and set her away from him.

"Now, you need to put on a brave face and stand up for the pair of you. If we can sort this out now, there is no reason why you cannot have a long and happy marriage. We just need to make Mr. Talbot see that too. He doesn't want to end up like me and wait in the wings for over thirty years for the woman he loves, just because he is too daft to see his own worth. I have been lucky enough to be given a second chance. I am not going to muck it up this time. At least Geoffrey has a good start over me. He is at least married to you, so let's see if we can get your husband on the right track the first time around." He smiled encouragingly.

Charlotte took a deep, steadying breath and she gazed up at the older man in front of her. He looked younger than he had when they had first arrived in London. Not only younger but also happier and far more confident.

"Why did you not ask Olivia's hand in marriage the first time around? Why did you let her escape."

Coalport laughed as he shook his head.

"I never even told her how I felt. How could I? It would have been an impossible match anyway. I was so young, without a penny to my name; a simple servant who could barely look her in the eye for fear that she might see what was in my heart, but it turns out that she knew anyway. For thirty years I worked my way up through the household while I remained as close to her as possible. I hated the fact that she went to another man's bed every night, and even though the Duke was a good man and perfect for her, I would wish that he took a mistress or would leave her in London while he gallivanted about on his estate. He didn't, of course. He loved her and his sons pa.s.sionately, and she loved them just as fiercely in return. In the end, her infrequent visits to town were all I could hope for. Just a glimpse would sustain me until the next season, but then I was unexpectedly given a chance. I would never have wished the old Duke dead, but it happened anyway and I just knew that I couldn't let her go ever again. Knowing that fate wouldn't help me a second time, I took my chance with my own destiny and wrote to her last year, telling her everything I had ever felt about her. I knew what I was risking; my livelihood, my home, even my good name could have been taken away from me, but I had to make my feelings known before it was too late. Never once did I expect a response and I didn't get one for months."

Charlotte's hand slipped over her mouth and her words came out in a shocked whisper.

"Olivia rejected you?"

Coalport's smile widened further.

"She came to London to find me. I was only retained by the Duke for his visits to town and they had been few and far between in recent years, but I opened my own front door only a few weeks ago to discover Olivia standing there. She was barely through the door before she was in my arms. I will never forget that day for the rest of my life. Whatever happens in our future, whether people reject us or accept our relationship, I care not. I swear that I love her and will never let her go again."

Charlotte knew that he spoke the truth.

"But you should be with her now, not here worrying about me and Geoff. Go back to her now. Giles will search for my husband."

Coalport shook his head as he gave her hand a small squeeze.

"Now, what do you take me for? I will help find your husband and then return to Olivia, though I would ask that you keep what I have told you to yourself. When Olivia returns to Ormond, I will be going with her. I wish to speak to her son before anything becomes known. Even though he will never keep me from her, for her sake I dearly want his blessing. Losing her husband and firstborn son at the same time was a blow greater than any woman should have to bear. I must convince Alexander that our love can overcome the gossips and that even if it doesn't, I will love, cherish and look after his mother for the rest of our lives."

Charlotte felt her tears gather again at Coalport's declarations of devotion. She didn't think that Geoffrey could ever feel that level of emotion for her, even if they did manage to make a life together.

"Thank you for trusting me with your news. I won't breathe a word until you say." She a.s.sured him as he walked back towards the door. She followed him into the hallway.

"I'll be back before you know it, hopefully with your husband in tow." He picked up his hat and coat, opened the front door, and disappeared into the night.

Chapter Ten.

Desperation and Desire They didn't find him for nearly two days.

On the point of despair, Charlotte had been about to join the search with her cousin and Geoffrey's new friends. A frantic Giles had already sent for Alexander, Charles Latham, Hubert Carruthers and Anthony Torrington to a.s.sist him in the search by the time Coalport and Giles' own personal valet, Craddock, sent a boy with news from the dockside.

A bundle of sodden rags had been discovered crawling along the foresh.o.r.e. Half drowned with his lips cracked and face barely recognizable from the beating he had received, Geoffrey looked to be almost dead. Giles immediately sent for Callum with the carriage and between them all they managed to take Geoffrey back to the house in St. George Street. Geoffrey barely groaned as they carried him up the stairs and he slipped into unconsciousness soon after.

Coalport insisted on tending to Geoffrey, washing his filthy hair and grime covered body until only the bruises were visible to mar his skin. After the sheets were changed, the doctor p.r.o.nounced that his patient, apart from being nearly pummelled to death, was under the influence of some kind of hallucinatory drug. Only time would relieve him of the symptoms. In the meantime Geoffrey's skinned knuckles and his broken ribs appeared to be the worst of his injuries, though the bruises that covered his body would take weeks to heal completely.

Charlotte stood with Giles at the bedside almost choking with emotion as she surveyed her unconscious husband's broken and battered body. She stared in horror at his black, swollen eyes, his b.l.o.o.d.y split lips and the dark purple bruise on his cheek and forehead.

"Who would do this to him? Why would they? Geoff never hurt a soul in his whole life." She wept into Giles' chest.

Giles smoothed his distraught cousin's hair as he wondered how he could break the circulating news to her. Rumours were already rife about town. He would rather Geoffrey wake and tell her himself, but knowing how gossip spread, it might already be too late if he left it until the man woke. He decided to tell her the worst before she heard from anyone else.

"Charlotte, I cannot lie to you. I have some news that will make for hard listening...Word is that he drank himself under the table at one of the inns in Cheapside. Two women escorted him to the bedrooms above, where he apparently paid them for their services." He held her against him as her legs began to give way beneath her. He gave her a small shake. "Charlotte, have strength and listen to what I have to say. I don't believe that he meant for anything to happen, but the women had already seen the quality of his clothing and the gold in his purse. I believe that they purposely laced his drink with whatever has drugged him. They stole his money and after they had robbed him of all he had, their men beat him and dumped him. I think that they hoped he would turn up dead, but hadn't reckoned on his strength and fitness. Not many men would be able to withstand the treatment they put him through. The doctor says that his knuckles prove that he fought back with everything he had, but against several coves his strength was clearly not enough."

Charlotte sobbed even harder. She had never felt so desolate in her life.

"What have I done to him! He didn't want to marry me. He told me that he didn't want anyone. He would have married one of the girls from Ormond if he'd wanted a wife. If I had never argued with him or over balanced on that terrace, this would never have happened. It's entirely my fault and now I don't even know if he'll live to forgive my selfishness." Her shoulders shook as she shed her tears.

Giles looked over her head at the doctor who returned his stare without expression. He pulled his cousin even closer.

"You have done nothing to reproach yourself with. I know that the incident at Lord Davenport's ball was an accident. I never thought it was anything else, but you have to see that there was no other course of action to take...I couldn't let you be ruined." He looked back at Geoffrey's inert body. The man breathed shallowly, each intake of air a wheezing struggle. "I'll stay here with you tonight. If he wakes, he may be delusional or even violent. I'll take the bedroom next door but you must call me if he wakes and is in any distress at all. I fear that addiction is quick to take hold with some of these drugs. I saw it all the time in the war. A couple of doses to kill pain was sometimes enough to set up a craving so deep that only one with the heart of a giant could resist its lure."

Charlotte trembled again.

"If he wakes? Oh G.o.d! He has to, I can't bear to think of it if he doesn't." She grabbed Giles' lapels with frantic fingers as her tears streamed down her face. "I thought Anne would be with you. I've wanted to talk to her so much over the last few days, but as she's not here, I have to tell you. I cannot hold all this in any longer...Giles, please don't be angry with me. I know that Geoffrey's not a lord or an earl, or even a sir, but I don't care. I wouldn't care if he was a chimney sweep or a King. I love him. I love him so much that if he dies I know I will die alongside him. I cannot live without him."

Giles felt her body quaking in his arms. He crooked his finger beneath her chin and lifted it so that she looked into his dark blue eyes. He smiled tenderly down at her.

"I know that you do. I've known for a long time, Charlotte. Why do you think I sent you to London with him in the first place? It wasn't just because of you needing an escort. I could have chosen any number of men to do that quite adequately. No, I wanted you both to have a chance to know one another, for Geoff to prove his worth to you and to himself. I wasn't expecting what happened at Lord Davenport's, but I wasn't upset or annoyed. I felt that it just brought an inevitable outcome to fruition a little sooner than expected, though I confess that I had not foreseen this state of affairs. I honestly thought that Geoffrey would be thrilled to have you to himself."

Charlotte shook her head as her mind reeled in shock at his revelation.

"I think that you made a mistake in sending him with us. You know that I never intended to marry. After all I went through with my father and brother I thought you understood my reasons why. But that is all irrelevant anyway now as the deed is already done and my love for him means nothing. It doesn't change the fact that he has no interest in me. All that does matter is that he recovers. I don't care if he never wants to see me again, but he has to live." There was a fiery determination in her tone.

Giles nodded and motioned her towards the chair beside the bed.

"Come and sit with him. The doctor has done his work. His wounds are cleaned and bandaged and Coalport has placed a bowl of onions beneath the bed to help rid his body of any other bad humours. I know that your presence will comfort him regardless of whether he wanted to marry you or not. We will all do our best to help him recover and worry about your relationship afterwards."

Charlotte sighed deeply as she sat and took hold of Geoffrey's bandaged hand. A worried looking Coalport arrived soon after with blankets and a pillow. He made up a makeshift bed on the settle but Giles knew Charlotte would not use it that night. He wrapped the blanket about his cousin, said goodnight to Charlotte with a kiss on her forehead and made his way out of the room with the doctor walking beside him.

Geoffrey's whole body screamed in pain and trembled with cold. He'd never felt so chilled in all his life. He remembered the feel of the icy, black water as it closed in over his head and shuddered even harder. Never had he thought to meet his end robbed of most of his possessions, and beaten black and blue before being thrown into the Thames at the dead of night with a sack of rocks tied to his feet. If he could stop his teeth chattering for long enough he would actually be furious at the indignity of it all.

He wasn't sure when he'd realized that it was all a set-up. One of his own making, of course. He'd willingly gone to the inn in order to become so drunk that he couldn't remember his own name. A name that would forever be hated by his new wife.

His wife! G.o.d, how he loved those two words, but he had seen how the very thought of being married crushed her. She had said that she would become a dutiful wife. His guts churned at what she thought he wanted from her. He didn't want her dutiful. He wanted her wild and free, with the wind blowing in her hair as she galloped across the sand on Lightning, his own senses rampant as he saw her tight b.u.t.tocks encased in her brother's old breeches.

He'd cursed himself for a fool when he'd realized his mistake at the inn. The onion scented blonde woman began pulling at his shirt and he had resisted, only to find that his hands wouldn't co-operate as he attempted to fend her off. It was only when the other woman joined the first that he felt himself lucky. After discovering all the gold he had about his person, the women proceeded to attempt to take what he would never have willingly given. Fortunately for him the drugs they had used had taken effect so well that no parts of his body had worked at all.

The two wh.o.r.es called him all the names they could think of when nothing they tried would arouse him, but names could never hurt as much as the feelings of betrayal spearing his heart as they touched and abused his inert body. If Charlotte knew or ever found out, her disgust would probably kill him. It was only after they had done their worst and failed with him that they called the three burly men into the room.

With his senses still reeling, they had overcome him easily enough, beaten him and stolen anything of value. The drugs had taken such a hold that he could barely stand let alone fight his way out of the situation, and his last thought before blacking out was a hope that Charlotte would never find out about the two women. A day lying on the cold floor of the room had roused him enough to make a short stand against the men when they returned a second time. Geoffrey wondered what more they thought they could steal. Standing in a set of undergarments short of naked, they had already taken everything else he had, including his handmade boots.

He'd fought for his life, breaking the nose of one and feeling the ribs of another crack before someone had come up behind him and whacked him over the head with what felt like a ton weight, but was more probably a full wine bottle. Afterwards there wasn't much to remember. Someone forcing him to drink more brandy, hands tying him, lifting him and then the cold rush of water as he sank deep into the river.

It was probably the swiftly moving tide that saved him. He had sunk like a rock, the sack of stones weighing him down so quickly that he thought it would all be over in seconds, but the rapidly moving water picked up his weight and dragged him in the current. The rough-sewn sack must have sc.r.a.ped along the bottom of the river and quickly worn a hole in the thin material. The rocks had slipped through the gap and set him free to float away on the tide.

Sometime later he recalled a boatman shouting at him and more hands turning him over, but by then the cold and his beaten body had taken its toll. He was too far gone to recognize the face that peered down at him and too cold to speak. Then strong arms were about him and a thick blanket placed over him, and now he was in a large bed with smell the faint scent of onions surrounding him again.

He couldn't face the thought of that disgusting light-skirt touching him again. Through the pain in his hands and his head he thrashed and fought his bonds as she came nearer.

"Get yourself away from me, woman. Your attentions are not wanted." He could hear the shake in his own voice and he cleared his throat as he attempted to sound more a.s.sertive. "Don't touch me, I don't want you!" he shouted as she came ever nearer.

Her cry didn't scare him, but his body recoiled at the thought of her hands on him. He groaned painfully and turned away from her, but the bed dipped behind him and her cracked voice whispered in his ear.

"I'm only here to comfort you. I'll do anything for you. Tell me what you want, what I can do for you."

He ignored the ache in his ribs as his stomach rolled and his chest heaved. He'd never want anything from this harlot, not even her words of comfort. He wanted someone he could never have and who he would probably never see again. His heart lurched in his chest and suddenly stuttered, beating out a rapid, uneven rhythm as it fractured into a thousand pieces. Damp warmth touched his cheek. A salty droplet slipped into the corner of his mouth and he realized that it was his own tears.

He felt the hideous woman breathe over him, and for a confused moment, he smelled apple blossom and the spring tide.

Charlotte! He reached out for the woman he loved more than anything in existence...but recoiled as the onions took over once more. The wh.o.r.e came nearer and he knew that the love of his life would never have him now.

"I won't leave you...Tell me what you want?" The trollop asked again.

"My wife," he thought to himself as the chill of darkness took him once again. "I want my Charlotte."

He groaned as he turned on his side and she only narrowly missed his flung out arm as he shouted at her to get away from him. He'd been quiet for hours and for hours she had watched over him. Night had come and gone, returned once again and never once had she left his side.

Only a few hours earlier, the doctor had examined him again and p.r.o.nounced him better than expected. His ribs looked bruised but not broken, as he had originally feared, however the drugs hadn't yet left his system and the river water hadn't helped his condition either. His temperature was up slightly and the doctor frowned in consternation at his patient as sweat beaded on Geoffrey's brow.