Page 39 of Eight for Losing, One for Loving

Chapter 11

Mr Knight,

I need some advice concerning a business venture, which I believe may interest you. I would be grateful if you could find the time to call on me at home next week to discuss the matter in more detail.

Might I request you arrive in the guise of a morning caller, however, and not a man of business? Whilst I have means of my own and no requirement for my father’s permission, he would not approve of my scheme, and I prefer to keep the details from him. A mutual friend has vouched for your discretion and trustworthiness. I pray you do not let me down.

―Excerpt of a letter from The Lady Belinda Madox-Brown to Mr Felix Knight (son of Mr Gabriel and Lady Helena Knight).

25th June 1850, Mud Pightle, Wrestlingworth, the Bedfordshire-Cambridgeshire border.

Vi wiped her eyes and gave her nose a good blow, wishing she had not made quite such a scene, but really, seeing the man she loved held at gunpoint, and then being hit on the head, was rather provoking. In the circumstances, she did not think she had behaved so very unreasonably. The man she loved. The words repeated in her head with a sense of inevitability. Well, it wasn’t like she could pretend otherwise, not any longer. She loved Leo Hunt, heaven help her, and she did not know what to do about it.

“Feeling better?” Leo asked cautiously, looking down at her.

There was concern in his eyes, and a look that suggested he believed she would pick up the log and attack him with it if he said the wrong thing. Sighing, Vi nodded.

“Yes, thank you. I can get up now.”

Leo frowned, touching a gentle finger to her forehead, just beside the bruise. “How is your head?”

“Throbbing. But nothing a good night’s sleep won’t repair,” she added in resignation, knowing she had lost her one and only chance to spend the night with Leo without becoming his wife.

He would never make love to her in this sorry state, and she really did not feel like it in any case. She was tired and dirty, and her head was pounding so hard she just wanted to sleep. In the morning, he would insist on taking her home, and in doing whatever was necessary to protect her reputation. She had no idea what damage had been done, but if there was the slightest hint of gossip, he would insist on marrying her, and Mama and Papa would agree. The thought of the scenes she must endure when she refused him was enough to depress her spirits thoroughly and make her feel utterly exhausted.

“Did Mick capture Burt and Edgar?” she asked, preferring to keep her mind from such dismaying topics for as long as possible.

“Is that the big fellow?” Reverend Harbottle asked, taking off his spectacles and rubbing them clean. “I believe he has Edgar in hand, yes. Burt, I think, may have absconded.”

“No, he ain’t.”

Vi looked around at the familiar voice as Jenny walked in, pushing a wretched looking Burt ahead of her. One eye was swelling shut and he looked thoroughly miserable.

“Silly sod thought he’d try to pinch Mick’s cart. I thought otherwise,” Jenny said with a grin. “Not like he’s got anywhere to go.”

“I’ll be transported,” Burt said glumly, shaking his head.

“Nah, I don’t reckon so,” Jenny said briskly. “Can’t speak for that disgusting brother of yours, but if you promise to behave yourself, me and Mick will speak up for you.”

Burt’s eyes went round. “You mean it, Jenny?”

“Maybe,” Jenny shrugged. “Depends how helpful you are in sorting this mess out, eh?”

“I’ll be helpful!” Burt exclaimed, immediately setting to, picking up furniture and tidying up.

Jenny met Vi’s gaze before she turned to Leo. “Burt’s harmless,” she said quietly. “His brother has always bullied him, but there’s no wickedness in him. If you think you could see your way to keeping him out of all this, sir? I know I have no right to ask it of you, but—”

“We shall certainly discuss it,” Vi said, for Leo’s face had darkened and he did not look like a man willing to give any quarter. “But perhaps in the morning. If Mick could help Mr Huntington and the reverend to get Pembury here and Edgar and Burt somewhere secure for the night?”

“There’s the pub cellar, we can use that I reckon if Reverend Harbottle confirms the story to Mrs Caruthers. Leave it to me,” Jenny said, and took herself out again, calling over her shoulder. “Burt, come and help me.”

Burt put down the broken chair he’d been holding and hurried out after her.

“Help me up, Leo,” Vi said, shifting on his lap.

Leo did so, but before she could take a step, he swung her up into his arms, making her gasp. “Leo, there’s no need! I’m perfectly—”

“Hush,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. “You are not taking a step or moving so much as an inch away from me. I want you where I can see you, where I know you are safe. The least I can do is get you back home in one piece.”