To Marry A Matchmaker (Historical Romance) (19 page)

His cool eyes assessed her. ‘Very well, you may come, Lady Thorndike, if you’re ready within the hour.’

T
o Robert’s astonishment, Henri was waiting in Dyvels’ courtyard with her portmanteau at her feet and a fearsome expression on her face when he returned with the carriage an hour later. And he knew that he had made a grave error. He had been far too ready to believe in her guilt, far too ready to condemn.

‘We should have an hour or two before the carriage lamps need to be lit and it never gets truly dark at this time of year,’ Henri said as he alighted. She moved briskly towards the carriage and he knew the ultraefficient Thorndike was back. Somewhere beneath all those layers was the passionate woman he had held in his arms this morning. His desire to reach that woman confused him. He was supposed to believe in logic, not emotions. ‘We can make good time if your carriage is fast. My aunt’s is cumbersome at best and liable to break down. Sebastian—’

‘We need to discuss this morning,’ Robert said in an undertone, touching her elbow. She jumped as if his
touch burnt her, he noted with grim satisfaction. ‘Before you get into the carriage. Too much is unsettled.’

Henri caught her lip between her teeth and turned her head away. Her poke bonnet shadowed her face. ‘This morning is best forgotten. An aberration. A mistake I should bitterly regret. Giving in to passion was wrong. Logic shall rule every move from now on. Pray do not refer to it again.’

‘But I’m very glad you did.’ He kept his back straight, but his heart sank. This was going to be harder than he had considered. He’d hoped that after a few words of apology, all would be well.

‘The situation became out of control for both of us.’ Her voice became clipped as if she was saying a prepared speech. ‘It must never happen again. After we find Sophie and Sebastian, then we shall only meet in public. I’m going on this journey to ensure the proper thing is done. Our friendship such as it was is over, Mr Montemorcy. There’s no trust between us.’

‘Whom don’t you trust, Henri?’

‘Please.’ She raised a gloved hand. ‘I’ve no wish for a vulgar scene.’

Silently Robert vowed that it wasn’t over. He would discover a way to break through her barriers once again. He would find a way back. He wasn’t going to lose her now. He reached out and caught her arm. This time, she remained still. ‘I can respect your decision. It doesn’t mean I agree with it.’

‘We quarrelled and that’s the end to it.’

‘Friends can quarrel and make up. They can forgive. To understand a friend…’

Her eyes widened and he knew that, despite everything, she was far from indifferent. ‘Are we even friends?’

Robert took a deep breath as her words cut deep into him. ‘I’d like to think so. We have certainly gone beyond mere acquaintances.’

‘You did not trust me before. You believed Hortense Armstrong rather than believing in me. Common gossip. And false letters. I told you that I didn’t send you a note this morning. You wanted to believe the worst of me and you did.’ She lowered her head so the brim of her bonnet shielded her face. ‘I deserved better.’

‘You did. An honest mistake,’ he admitted reluctantly. ‘Am I not allowed to make mistakes? Faulty logic. Please understand, Henri, I gave my word to James Ravel that I’d keep his daughter safe. It was his dying request. James saved my life as a young man. After my father’s tragic death, all the creditors were pressing for payment; he alone stood by me and believed in me. And I’ve failed him in the one thing he asked of me. Believing the worst in you made it easier than admitting my failings.’

Henri pulled away from his grasp, her bonnet trembling. ‘We need to leave, Mr Montemorcy, otherwise we will be forced to stop before we find them. I’ve no wish to sleep in an inn.’

* * *

Robert watched Henri’s chin slide downwards and then her head jerk upwards as she carefully held her body away from him. Sophie’s maid had long since given herself up to sleep. The faint light from the carriage lamps filled the carriage.

‘Are you too tired to continue, Henri?’ he asked softly. ‘Shall we stop?’

She sat bolt upright and hugged her beaded reticule tighter to her chest. ‘Who, me? I can sleep anywhere. I swear it.’

‘I will take that under consideration. For our next wager.’

He was rewarded with a tiny laugh. He hated the way the sound of her laugh made his heart leap. ‘Whatever it is, I’ll win. You deserve to lose.’

‘You always say that.’

‘Because it is the truth, Mr Montemorcy.’ She paused, fiddling with the catch of her reticule. Then she lifted her head and her eyes bore into him. ‘Why did you do it?’

‘Do what?’ He stared at her, a thousand different things coursing through his brain. Why had he kissed her? Why had he made love to her? Why had he not wanted to believe in her innocence? Why did he fear what he felt for her? He knew he wasn’t ready to give those sort of answers. He wasn’t ready to see the contempt in her eyes.

She folded her hands in her lap. ‘There was no reason to drive Sebastian towards Queer Street and bankruptcy. I had matters perfectly under control. I’ve known my cousin far longer than you. I know how he operates.’

His shoulders relaxed slightly. This was about Sebastian, rather than them. ‘Did you? Do you think that is the only reason it happened?’

‘Sophie Ravel has money and Sebastian was infatuated. But he was managing.’

‘On the contrary, he amassed his debts on his own. I merely bought some of his paper as insurance. Unlike your aunt, I am far from convinced that he will do the right thing without persuasion. James Ravel lost one fortune due to an aristocrat fleeing the country. He entrusted me to make sure his daughter didn’t lose a
second one. I owe him that much. His daughter will not have to live like a pauper.’

‘And if Sophie doesn’t want to marry him? What will you do to his debts then? Will you explain to everyone that his credit is once again good now that he is no threat to you?’

‘The only good thing that will come of it is that some of the ordinary people, the tradesmen who extended him credit to buy his boots, or the tailor who keeps him in waistcoats, won’t suffer. Did you think about them or are they beneath your notice?’

‘He will pay the money back…somehow.’ She ducked her head. ‘I suppose something else will have to be sold. I’d thought he’d learnt his lesson. And everything else will go on as it always has. Sophie will suffer no lasting stain.’

‘You’re wrong. They will marry. They will have to. No one forced her to get into that carriage, Henri. Both you and your aunt were agreed on that. Sophie went of her free will.’

‘Sophie is young. If she has thought better of marrying my cousin, then what? Will she be forced to marry a debtor? How far will you go to ensure your promise to a dead man? It is Sophie’s future we are speaking about.’

He threw his hat on to the seat and ran his hands through his hair. ‘I don’t know. I want to prevent the scandal from getting worse. Sophie needs to be protected. She is far too young to know her mind. Someone has to decide what is best for her future.’

She wrapped her cloak about her and moved closer to the window. ‘And you know best. Just as you knew best about the notes and who to blame.’

Robert’s breath caught. He had to take the risk and explain. ‘I was ten when my mother died and all the light went out in the world. My father brought me up to trust the rational rather than my emotions. Then he remarried—a bright young thing and he seemed to love her far more than me. He lavished all sorts of material advantage on her to keep her happy. She died giving birth to another man’s child and he killed himself rather than continue. I then fell in love with a woman who I thought would love me for ever, only to discover she was angling after a richer prize. I find it very hard to trust instinct, Henri.’ He reached over and touched her hand. ‘I made a mistake because I wanted to. Does that satisfy your pride?’

‘Pride has nothing to do with it. I know forced marriages don’t work and right now I’m praying we catch up with them before Sophie is irrevocably ruined.’

Robert felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. She hadn’t forgiven him. Henri should understand. Sophie was his responsibility. His head had been so certain that Henri had been in league with Cawburn even when his heart revolted. And he had long ago stopped trusting his heart. Only he wanted to trust it now and wasn’t sure if he could.

‘Ask yourself this one question, Henri—if you were faced with the same evidence, would you have acted differently? I gave a deathbed promise to her father. Long ago I learnt to distrust my feelings, but I did go to you and ask. I wanted you to be innocent. It’s why I went to you rather than going to Carlisle.’

Henri said nothing, just stared out the window at the darkening sky.

*  *  *

‘There is an inn ahead,’ the coachman called, waking Henri from a fitful sleep.

All of her muscles ached. In the enclosed space, her body was more aware of him than ever. Spending time with him in an enclosed carriage might not have been the best idea she had ever had, but she was stuck, and she wanted to prove him wrong. He of all people should have trusted her implicitly. Without trust, there wasn’t anything. And yet, a tiny voice nagged in the back of her mind, she knew all about responsibility. She wanted to forgive him, particularly after hearing about his childhood. She wanted to feel his arms around her and his lips against her hair. She’d fallen in love with Robert Montemorcy.

Love. It was not a pleasant feeling. Not like the gentle feeling of wanting to make the world a better place for someone else that she had with Edmund, but a wild untamed thing that howled in anguish because he doubted her. She’d get over it. Someday. She had to. She refused to let him use her weakness against her.

‘The horses need a rest,’ the coachman called down. ‘Good a place as any to change them.’

Henri peeked out through the window. A steady rain had begun to fall. A warm light shone through the darkness and an inn sign creaked in the wind.

‘We stop here for the night.’ Robert rapped on the top of the carriage, signalling to the coachman.

‘Are we in Jedburgh?’ Henri asked, stretching slightly. Jedburgh would be fine. They could start looking for Sophie. She wouldn’t have to think about the temptation of spending a night in an inn. ‘Your carriage is much swifter than my aunt’s, I will grant you that.’

‘No,’ Robert said, gathering his greatcoat around him. He seemed remoter than ever. ‘The horses are tired and there is little point in travelling further tonight. Grace has been complaining about feeling ill.’

‘I’m sorry, ma’am,’ the little maid said. ‘I’m not a good traveller. I only need a few moments of fresh air. After that…’

Henri sat up straight and tried not to think about an anonymous inn with white linen sheets. Only this morning, it would have been a godsend, but now everything was conspiring against her. She glanced at the maid and saw a single tear dripped down her cheek. Robert was right. Grace wasn’t well. It was one of the things she admired about him. He did think about servants as if they were people instead of objects. ‘I thought we were travelling until we caught up with Sebastian. We agreed.’

‘Your cousin likes his creature comforts. It’s late and this is an excellent inn. I’ve stayed here on business before. As we have not caught up with Sophie before night fell, they will be marrying with my blessing and in a proper church.’

Her heart sank as she remembered the frying pan. Sophie had meant to send a message, but what sort of message and why hadn’t she simply stayed at the house? Somehow, she had to find Sophie before Robert did and find out what had truly happened, what Sophie actually wanted. Then she could decide what was best…when she had all the facts. ‘We could go on…after Grace has a breath of fresh air.’

‘Why are you intent on proving how strong and capable you are? I can see you’re exhausted.’ His hand stroked her cheek. It was all she could do not to lean into
the touch. The desire to be held in his embrace nearly overwhelmed her. ‘We both will need our strength. You can sleep in the carriage, but I guarantee that the beds in the inn will be softer.’

* * *

Henri watched Grace’s steady breath. The little maid had fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow in the dressing room.

Henri had refused all offers of help from the innkeeper’s wife, insisting on looking after Grace. Concentrating on Grace was supposed to be an antidote to the growing anticipation in her stomach. Robert had procured private rooms for both of them.

The worst part was that, thinking about how Robert had accused her several hours later, she knew she could have made the same mistake. Superficially she could see why, but she didn’t understand how he’d made the mistake and she wanted to understand. She wanted to go back to that easy friendship they had had before, but it seemed impossible. She’d never had to forgive Edmund for anything except dying.

The feelings that were coursing through her were far too new. And she was lonely without him. The future without Robert was a bleak prospect. Was Robert right? Was it only her pride that was hurt?

‘How’s the patient?’ Robert asked from the doorway. His hair flopped over his forehead and tiredness etched his face.

‘Asleep. I gave her a sleeping draught.’ Henri schooled her features and held up her bag. If she kept the conversation on Grace, he’d never guess her thoughts and desires. She wasn’t ready to open herself up to more hurt. ‘I came prepared. I’ve no idea of the state Sophie will be in. Poor
Grace. Her head pained her. No doubt the day’s events overcame her. She couldn’t have continued on. You were right to stop. I wish I’d seen it earlier.’

‘You’re admitting that you were wrong. Is this a first, Thorndike?’

She concentrated on the coverlet and winced. ‘I’m not perfect. I know how imperfect I am, but it doesn’t stop me trying. Far easier to look after someone than give in to self-pity.’

‘You always think of others.’ He didn’t move from the doorway. ‘Now it’s time for someone to think about you. You need to eat, Henri.’

‘I will survive. I had muffins for tea with Aunt Frances.’

‘It’d be a shame to let the light supper the innkeeper’s wife has prepared go to waste. I had her lay a table in your room.’