Page 17 of Kidnapping Cordelia

“N-No,” Tilly stammered, tears streaming down her face. Regina reached for her handkerchief, blowing the girl’s runny nose before she could forget her manners and wipe it on her sleeve. “It’s m-much worse than that.”

“Oh?”

“He’s getting m-married,” she said wretchedly, and then burst into noisy sobs once more.

Regina stilled, staring at the girl in shock. An odd sensation lanced through her, emotions that she had no name for but identified as fear. If the earl married, things would change, and she could well understand why Tilly was so afraid. Ashburton might be a doting father, but it would take an extraordinary woman to accept his bastard daughter into her own household before she even had a child of her own. Even if she did, the woman would have the power to make Tilly’s life a misery if she chose to. It also made Regina’s position uncertain. She’d known it could not last forever, but she’d banked on remaining with Tilly for a good while yet, for the earl had never spoken about sending his daughter to school. Perhaps now that would change, and Regina would lose the position that had given her safety and security and no small amount of satisfaction over the past years.

Though Tilly was a spoilt little madam at times, thanks to her father, she was also a bright and affectionate little girl and Regina loved her dearly… more than she ought, if the truth were known. In the absence of her own family, Regina had lavished all the love and care she had to give upon Tilly, whilst trying her best to remain the stern and serious governess she was employed to be.

Yet she could not imagine who the earl was to marry. Though she heard the gossip the servants had murmured about his mistresses over the years, to her knowledge he had visited no respectable ladies in the area.

“Who is the lady he intends to marry?” she asked Tilly, stroking the girl’s hair and trying to think how best to soothe her, for she did not wish to give the girl false hope.

If her life was about to change, Regina must prepare her for those changes as best she could. She felt a sudden surge of anger towards the earl for not having told her first before he blurted such news to the child. At least then she would have been equipped to deal with the results.

“I don’t know,” Tilly sniffled, batting Regina’s hand away again when she tried to apply the handkerchief. “He’s going to find someone in London. That’s why we’re going, not to visit the museums and see all the places he promised to take me, but to find him a w-wife,” she said wretchedly, dissolving into another bout of sobs.

Regina let out of breath, but to her consternation did not feel relieved by the news that the new Lady Ashburton was not as close at hand as she might have feared. The earl was the biggest prize on the marriage mart, and he would have his pick of the available females, all of whom would no doubt throw themselves at his feet. There would be a Lady Ashburton, sooner or later, and the knowledge made her want to behave just as badly as Tilly for reasons she did not understand in the least. She had never liked the earl, who was everything she most detested about the men of the ton. Whilst he had certainly redeemed himself in her eyes to a large degree after having settled down for the sake of his little daughter, she did not believe a leopard ever changed his spots.

She did not trust him an inch, and she told herself she pitied any woman who was fool enough to marry him, for he would never be faithful to her. There would be compensations, of course, for the earl was a beautiful man. Too beautiful.

“Handsome is as handsome does,” Regina muttered under her breath.

“What, Harry?” Tilly asked, looking at her in confusion.

“‘I beg your pardon, Mrs Harris,’” Regina corrected sternly, and then relented, reaching out and stroking the girl’s hair. “We really ought to finish our packing, you know.”

Tilly groaned and buried her face in the pillow again.

Smiling, Regina let out a sigh. “Well, perhaps it can wait for an hour or so. How would you like to take a carrot to your pony? We could ride into the village and buy some lemon drops for the journey. How’s that?”

“Oh, thank you, Harry,” Tilly said, throwing her arms about her waist and hugging her tightly. “Whatever would I do without you?”

“Go to the devil, I should think,” Regina said crisply.

Tilly snorted with laughter but then grew serious, gazing up at her. “You won’t ever leave me, will you, Harry?”

Regina’s throat grew tight, and she blinked back a sudden blur of tears.

“Not if I can help it,” she said firmly, and found she could say no more.

Chapter 5

What on earth am I to do with such a boy, Matilda, I ask you? I swear he’s given me more grey hairs than even his elder brother managed, and that’s no small thing, let me tell you. He was always such a funny boy, full of mischief, but mischief has turned to trouble this past month and I worry for him.

The news that reached me this morning tells me he rescued Lady Cordelia Steyning from an attack by Lord Malmsey. That much I can well believe having met Malmsey. A loathsome man whom I cannot pretend to be sorry met such a fate, but that he did so at Muir’s hands? Oh, my poor boy. I cannot imagine how he feels. First Richmond and now this. It’s all anyone can talk of, and I hardly dare set a foot outside the house.

Though it seems he has come through this event as a hero, his reputation is that of a dangerous man with a violent temper, which is so far from the truth.

And now he is to marry this Cordelia creature? I know nothing of her, saving that her father, the duke, was a horrid man who refused to acknowledge me once because my father was in trade. Gordy was incensed, I can tell you and it was a near thing he didn’t do murder. Oh, dear, perhaps it does run in the family. The men do have rather fierce tempers. I cannot deny it.

But who is Lady Cordelia, Matilda? Shall I like her? Is she suitable? Oh, please write back and put my mind at rest at once. I must return to Scotland as soon as I can arrange it, so please do not delay.

―Excerpt of a letter from The Right Hon’ble Ruth Anderson, The Countess of Morven to The Most Hon’ble Matilda Barrington, The Marchioness of Montagu.

27th March 1850, Wildsyde Castle, The Highlands of Scotland.

“Wake up, lassie, we’ve arrived.”