Mary Brendan - Regency High Society Vol 1 - A Hasty Betrothal / A Scandalous Marriage / The Count's Charade / The Rake and the Rebel

‘No, he don’t, sir,’ interposed an eager voice and Cooper senior stepped forward. ‘Matt Beckett—he’s Finchley’s nevvy—shares a room with his uncle over at Westpark—got a hut out behind the shrubbery at Staines.’

‘A hut?’ said Sandford in exasperation. ‘What the devil has that got to do with anything?’

‘Grows things, your lordship,’ replied Cooper, unmoved. ‘Herbs—for horse liniment and such. Saw him put an old dog to sleep once—knows a thing or two about sleeping potions, I’d say …’ Other heads nodded and wagged in agreement behind him.

‘Has the hut been searched—for Billy—or Miss Cordell?’ Sick with apprehension, Sandford turned to Tiptree, who assured him at once that it had.

‘Couldn’t hide anyone there, sir,’ he said. ‘Full of bottles and pots. Seem to remember that Beckett showed me himself—very keen that I marked it off, now that I recall.’

‘Get the horses saddled, Tip,’ said the viscount curtly. ‘I’m going up to Westpark myself …’

It’s pretty dark, guv. Might be better to take a carriage round the lane—we’d have the lamps.’

Sandford considered this for a moment, then shook his head. ‘Take too long,’ he said briskly. ‘And they’d hear the carriage coming.’

On the couch beside them, Ridgeway stirred and his eyes flew open in shock. ‘You don’t think Judith is involved in all this, for God’s sake?’ His voice cracked with horror as he struggled to sit up. ‘I’m coming with you!’

Sandford regarded his cousin frowningly. ‘If you think you can sit a horse,’ he said without expression and turned to leave. ‘Better change out of those things, too—you’ve got five minutes. We’ll be in the stables!’

Apart from a single lamp which hung above the rear entrance, Westpark Manor was in darkness when the three men arrived. Tiptree, still carrying the poled lantern that had guided the riders along the bridleway, swung himself down from his horse and hurried to assist Ridgeway, who was near collapsing with exhaustion.

‘I told you not to attempt the journey,’ said Sandford unsympathetically, as he himself dismounted. ‘You can hardly stand!’

‘I’ll be fine,’ gasped his cousin, leaning against his mount. ‘I had to come—you must see that!’

Tiptree glowered at his master. ‘Give him another drop of that brandy, guv,’ he suggested. ‘That’ll sort him out for a while.’

Sandford complied, handing his flask to Ridgeway who, after taking a hefty swig of the restoring spirit, took a deep breath and straightened himself up.

‘I still think it would be better if you were to wait out here, Charles,’ said the viscount, preparing to open the door.

‘Not a chance, thank you, coz,’ replied Ridgeway indignantly. ‘Judith might need—somebody.’

The three men entered the silent house and made their way to the hall, which had the customary single candle burning in its holder on a side table.

‘Do you intend waking the whole house?’ asked Ridgeway, in a hushed voice. ‘The children … ?’

Sandford shook his head. ‘I expected to find Finchley here,’ he admitted. ‘If he is involved, along with his nephew, it’s unlikely that they will have gone to their beds!’

‘That’s true. His cousin nodded. ‘Shall we go back and try the kitchen?’ He turned to retrace his steps along the passageway that led to the servants’ quarters but, just as the other men were about to follow him, a voice came from above their heads.

‘Who’s there? I warn you, I have a pistol! Come out where you can be seen!’

It was Judith. Standing at the top of the stairs in her night attire, she was firmly brandishing one of her late husband’s duelling pistols in one hand and a branch of candles in the other.

Sandford immediately stepped forward into the shallow pool of light.

‘It’s me, Judith,’ he called out in a soft voice. ‘Put down your weapon.’

‘Robert!’ she gasped. ‘What are you doing here? You have found Harriet?’ She hurried down the stairs, gaping in astonishment as she beheld her other uninvited guests.

‘You, too, Charles? Where have you been all day? And what are you all doing, creeping about the house in this manner?’ She spun angrily round to face Sandford. ‘Robert? Are you searching Westpark for Harriet? You cannot think that she is hidden here, surely?’

‘It appears that some of your men are involved, Judith,’ said Sandford uncomfortably. ‘We are looking for Beckett. I understand that he sleeps here with his uncle—Finchley.’

Ridgeway reached out to take the pistol from Judith’s shaking hand at the same time as Tiptree relieved her of the candlestick. She sank down on to a nearby settle and looked at Sandford in distress.

‘Are you certain—Beckett? But he’s only a gardener—why would he …?’

They left Charles for dead in the lake pavilion, Judith,’ replied Sandford awkwardly. ‘They are clearly dangerous men—and if they’ve got Harriet …!’ His voice trembled and Judith’s shocked eyes travelled to seek Ridgeway’s.

‘You are injured?’ she inquired anxiously, but he shook his head.

‘Bruised—tired—I’ll survive,’ he said, dismissing his pain. ‘Finchley’s room, Judith?’

She rose at once to her feet and pointed to the steep stone stairway that was situated beside the door to the kitchens.

‘The men’s rooms are on the top floor—second or third door—I’m not sure …’

‘Tip—check the rooms,’ instructed Sandford. ‘Try not to wake anyone.’

Tiptree ran lightly up the stairs and disappeared from view as Sandford and Ridgeway turned back in the direction of the kitchens but, once again, they were stayed by a voice from above. This time it was the harsh, stentorian command from Lady Butler that stopped them in their tracks.

‘Stand still, whoever you are!’

‘Mother! gasped Judith, running back into the hall just as Lady Butler, swathed in a massive purple dressing gown, began to descend the stairs.

Sandford, raising his eyebrows in despair and swearing fulsomely under his breath, reluctantly stepped forward to reveal himself. Judith’s mother blanched at the unexpected sight of the viscount coming out of the shadows.

‘Judith! What is the meaning of this?’ she hissed. ‘In your nightwear—go to your room at once, miss!’ and, turning to Sandford, ‘You, sir, how dare you come creeping …’ but Sandford had had enough.

‘Be silent, madam!’ he uttered curtly. ‘You are wasting precious time. Come down, if you must, but kindly keep your comments to yourself! Light some more candles, Judith!’

Lady Butler, silenced by the viscount’s tone, clutched at the banister as she trod heavily down the stairs, then, shakily seating herself on the settle, she watched mutely as Judith hurried to fulfil Sandford’s request. The hall was soon adequately illuminated and, upon perceiving that Sandford was not the only night visitor, her ladyship started with undisguised dismay.

‘Ridgeway …?’ she began, but Sandford gave her a quelling glance and she was once again silent, staring apprehensively at the estate manager as he assisted her daughter in the lighting of more candles.

‘Nobody up on the top floor, guv.’

Tiptree had returned from his mission and Sandford, nodding, motioned Judith to one side.

‘Look after your mother. I didn’t mean to frighten her but we don’t want the whole house woken.’ Then, to Ridgeway, ‘You stay on this side of the door in case one of them comes through—Tiptree, behind me.’

The two men sidled along the passageway and pushed open the heavy oak door that led into the kitchen. They were at once confronted with the unappealing sight of Finchley and Pinter lashed to their chairs with clothes-line, both totally unconscious, but snoring loudly. A sniff at the contents of the tankards on the table in front of the servants provided Tiptree with all the information he needed as to the reason for the old men’s condition.