Stephanie Laurens - Tangled Reins

Opening the door of the parlour, he sauntered in. A vase of flowers flew at his head. He ducked just in time and the vase crashed against the door.

‘Get out!’ said Cecily in tones reminiscent of Lady Merion. ‘How dare you come in here?’

He had expected to find her weeping in distress and fear, totally submissive and entirely incapable of accurately throwing objects about the room. Instead she stood at the other end of the heavy deal table that squatted squarely in the middle of the chamber. On its surface, close to her hand, were ranged all the potential missiles the room had held. Eyeing these, he assumed an authoritative manner.

Waving his hand at her ammunition, he said in a confident tone, ‘My dear child! There’s no cause for such actions, I assure you!’

‘Gammon!’ she said, picking up a small salt cellar. ‘I think you’re mad.’

A frown marred Edward Buchanan’s contentment. ‘You shouldn’t say such things of your future brother-in-law, m’dear.’

It took Cecily all of a minute to work it out. ‘But Dorothea won’t marry you.’

‘I assure you she will,’ returned Edward Buchanan with calm certainty. He pulled a chair up to the table and sat, a wary eye on the salt cellar. ‘And why not? Hazelmere won’t have her now, not after she cut him in the Park. And none of her other beaux seems all that keen to come up to scratch. And after she comes down here to spend the night with me-well, just think of the scandal if she doesn’t marry me after all.’

‘Good lord! You really must be mad! I don’t know what happened between Dorothea and Hazelmere in the Park, but I do know he’s only gone out of town to his estates. He’s expected back any day now. If he finds you’ve been trying to…to pressure Dorothea into marrying you, well…’ Words failed Cecily as she tried to imagine what Hazelmere really would do in such a situation.

But Edward Buchanan was not impressed. ‘By the time his lordship finds out, it’ll be too late. Your sister will be promised to me and Hazelmere will never stand for the scandal.’

‘What scandal? If he killed you it would be simple to hush it up. Tony told me there’s little Hazelmere couldn’t do if he wished it.’

A niggling doubt awoke in Edward Buchanan’s stolid brain. Memories of the tales of Hazelmere’s prowess at Gentleman Jackson’s boxing salon reverberated in his head. And Desborough’s warning flitted through his consciousness. He shook such unhelpful thoughts aside. ‘Nonsense!’

But Edward Buchanan was to find, as Tony Fanshawe already had, that Cecily’s mind was of a peculiarly tenacious disposition. She continued to dwell longingly on the possible outcome once Hazelmere learned of his plans. No amount of persuasion could shake her faith that he would find out, and that sooner rather than later. As her description of the likely punishments in store for him passed from the general to the specific Edward Buchanan found himself totally unable to divert her attention. She was trying to recall what drawing and quartering entailed when she was interrupted by a knock on the door.

With enormous relief he rose. ‘That, I believe, will be your sister, m’dear.’

Dorothea had spent the journey to Tadworth more in consideration of the possibilities of her next morning’s encounter with Hazelmere than in worry over her imminent encounter with Edward Buchanan. She had no real fear of the bucolic Mr Buchanan and did not pause to question her ability to deal with him. She planned to march into the Castle Inn and, quite simply, walk out again with Cecily. If Edward Buchanan was so Gothic as to believe he could bend her to his will by such melodramatic tactics he would shortly learn his error. Her only worry was that her grandmother would bow to Ferdie’s exhortations and inform Hazelmere. Hopefully, Lady Merion would hold firm. That way she could get Cecily and herself safely back to London and meet his lordship in the morning, having lost no further ground, bar the lack of a few hours’ sleep.

Lang found the inn without difficulty. Entering, Dorothea saw at a glance that this was a respectable house. Reassured, she left Betsy and Lang seated in the taproom and knocked on the parlour door. When it opened she swept through, head held high, without so much as a glance at the man holding the door. She advanced towards her sister, stretching out her hands in greeting. ‘There you are, my love.’

The sisters exchanged kisses and Dorothea pulled off her gloves. ‘Did you have a pleasant trip down?’ she enquired.

Moving back to his chair after shutting the door, Edward Buchanan began to feel that all was not proceeding as it should.

Cecily took her cue from Dorothea. Ignoring their captor, they happily conversed in the most mundane manner, as if nothing at all untoward had occurred. Dorothea moved to the fire to warm her chilled hands.

Suddenly Edward Buchanan could stand it no longer. ‘Miss Darent!’

Dorothea turned to look at him, disdain in every line. ‘Mr Buchanan. I had hoped, sir, that you would by now have come to your senses and that I would not be forced into conversation with you.’

The repressive tones stung. But Edward Buchanan had not come thus far to be easily turned aside. ‘My dear Miss Darent, I realise the events of the evening have come as a shock to you. But you must consider, m’dear. You’re here. I’m here. You need to be married. I’m only too willing to oblige. If you think about it, I’m sure you’ll see that Edward Buchanan’s not such a bad bargain.’

Eyes blazing, Dorothea replied scornfully, ‘You, sir, are unquestionably the most distasteful character it has been my misfortune to meet. I dare say you think you’ve been clever. Personally I doubt it! I cannot for the life of me understand your obsession with marrying me. However, other than as a source of irritation, it concerns me not in the least. By your presence you reveal yourself as anything but the gentleman you purport to be, and neither my sister nor I have the slightest wish to converse with you further!’

Edward Buchanan purpled alarmingly as the comprehensive condemnation poured over him. Rising abruptly, he knocked over his chair. ‘Ah, but I think you’ll change your mind, m’dear. You wouldn’t want it broadcast that I was alone with your lovely young sister for some hours tonight.’

Both Dorothea and Cecily whirled to face him, contempt written clearly on their faces. But before either could speak Edward Buchanan went on, ‘Oh, yes. I think you’ll change your mind. You’ve scuttled your chances with Hazelmere. Wouldn’t do for your sister to let Fanshawe off the hook, too.’

Cecily was fairly hopping with rage. ‘Thea, don’t you listen to him! Oooh, just wait till Tony and Hazelmere hear of this!’

Dorothea laid a restraining hand on Cecily’s arm as that spirited damsel was about to launch forth into further vituperative outpourings. Drawing herself to her full height, she spoke clearly, a distinctly martial light in her green eyes. ‘Mr Buchanan. There will be no scandal. My sister and I will shortly be leaving this charming inn and returning to town in our carriage, accompanied by our maid.’

Edward Buchanan jeered, ‘And what’s to stop me passing on the tale of what happened here tonight?’

Dorothea’s eyes opened wide. ‘Why, Hazelmere, of course.’ She would have given anything not to have needed recourse to his lordship, but, as far as she could see, he was the best deterrent she had. Cecily’s happiness was at stake now and she would do anything necessary to preserve her younger sister.

Her calm reference to the Marquis temporarily rattled Edward Buchanan. Then he recovered. ‘Nice try, m’dear. But it won’t do. Aside from the fact that all the ton knows you quarrelled with his arrogant lordship, I happen to know he’s out of town. By the time he returns, the damage will be done.’

The gaze Dorothea bent on the hapless Mr Buchanan would have frozen greater men. ‘My dear sir, if your information on the Marquis’s movements is so reliable I presume you also know that he returned to London today. As for our relationship, I have no intention of edifying you with an explanation. Suffice to say that Lord Hazelmere has requested an interview with me tomorrow morning.’ She paused to let her words sink in. Then she turned to Cecily. ‘Come, my love. We should start back. I wouldn’t like to be late for my meeting with Hazelmere.’

But Edward Buchanan was not yet defeated. ‘Easy to say, m’dear. But even if he is in town, who’s to say he’ll hear about it? No, I’m afraid I really can’t let you leave.’

His stubborn belligerence ignited Dorothea’s temper. ‘Oh, you silly man! I hope Hazelmere doesn’t hear about it. The only reason I came down here is so that there’s no reason for him to be involved. And if only you’d see sense you’d be assisting us to leave with all speed!’

‘Hah! So he doesn’t know!’

‘He didn’t know when I left, but I wouldn’t wager a groat that he doesn’t know by now.’

‘There’s still time to get married,’ mused Mr Buchanan. ‘I’ve a special licence and there’s a clergyman of sorts in the village.’

Cecily’s mouth dropped open. ‘You’re quite mad,’ she informed Mr Buchanan.

‘Mr Buchanan!’ said Dorothea in tones of long suffering. ‘Please listen to me! I will not marry you. Not now, not tonight, not ever.’

‘Yes, you will!’

Dorothea opened her mouth to deny this charge but it remained open, her words evaporating, as a calm voice drawled from the doorway, ‘I’m shattered to disappoint you, Buchanan, but in this instance Miss Darent is quite correct.’

All eyes turned to see the Marquis of Hazelmere, standing in the doorway, shoulders negligently propped against the frame.

Dorothea would have given everything she possessed to know how long Hazelmere had been standing there. Across the room her eyes locked with his. Then, smiling faintly, he straightened and crossed to stand before her, taking her hand and kissing it, as was his habit. Dorothea struggled to master her surprise as the usual light-headedness swept over her. Under the warm hazel gaze she blushed. Hazelmere retained his clasp on her hand as he turned to view Edward Buchanan.