London Temptations: Historical Regency Romance Collection Read online

  Mr. Taylor shook his head and Benedict was relieved that he had recalled the man’s name correctly.

  “Then why should you wish to seek new employment?” Benedict pressed as the man’s head dropped all the more. “What has occurred to make you so eager to leave my estate?” He added an extra ring of authority to his voice, perhaps thinking that the man’s unwillingness to speak might be changed by the reminder that he was speaking to his employer and master of the house.

  For some moments, the man did not speak. Instead, he kept his gaze turned away, his eyes looking from one place to the next but never up into Benedict’s face. He began to speak several times but then the words faded away, and he eventually dropped his head into his hands, only to let out a yelp of pain.

  “You have nothing to fear in speaking the truth to me, Taylor,” Benedict told him when the man still said nothing. “Might I presume that what you speak of now is a direct result of the injuries you have sustained?”

  Taylor looked up sharply, his good eye flaring wide.

  “They—they said I could not say a word to you, my lord,” he whispered, his face appearing all the more pale. “I fear for what will happen to me should I speak openly.”

  Benedict gestured around them. “There is no one here who can listen to what you will say,” he told him. “And, if I am to be truthful, Taylor, I believe that I am already fully aware of what has occurred.” He saw Taylor’s color turn puce, the man beginning to stammer as he tried to push himself to his feet, and Benedict realized, with horror, what the man now thought.

  “Wait!” he exclaimed, and Taylor sat back down with a thump. “I did not mean that I am in any way involved in what occurred.” Realizing that he was about to say too much to a man who was only a servant and nothing more, Benedict let out a long breath and tried to speak clearly. “What I mean to say, Taylor, is that you are not the only one who has found yourself in difficulty with these men.”

  A look of understanding came over Mr. Taylor’s face and when he finally spoke, his voice was calm and steady.

  “I was just walking along the shoreline,” he said, looking up at Benedict. “I saw what I thought was a small cave and went near to it.” His brow furrowed. “The great house was just above it. But when I got closer, two men came out of the shadows and…well, they did this.” He gestured to his leg and then to his face. “I was told never to come near that place again and to find new employment somewhere else. And that if I didn’t do as they asked, then the next time they saw me, there wouldn’t be much left of me after that.” Again, his face paled and he closed his eyes. “I am not a man who usually gives in to fear and fright, my lord, but I think they near broke my leg. I can’t do my work if I have a leg that doesn’t work properly.”

  “And so you came to do as they had asked,” Benedict said with understanding. “Did you get a good look at both those men?”

  He listened with interest as Mr. Taylor described the two men. They were both wearing rather shabby clothes but certainly had the appearance of being very strong indeed. They had both worn caps on their unkempt heads and sneers of dislike and distrust upon their lips. Aside from that, Mr. Taylor sighed and stated that they looked just like any other working man that he might have seen around here.

  “I am not quite certain what is going on,” Benedict said eventually as Mr. Taylor looked at him with a steady gaze. “But I confess, Mr. Taylor, that there is more to this situation than I know. You are not the only one who has been threatened and you should feel no shame in the fact that you were willing to do as they asked. I have also done as they have asked.” He had not meant to speak so openly but there was something of a relief in being honest with a man who knew precisely what he was speaking about. “And no, you shall not go seeking new employment, Mr. Taylor. What you shall do is come to the servants’ quarters and spend your time there, until you are fully recovered.”

  Mr. Taylor’s eyes widened. “But my lord, I—”

  “I may need your help,” Benedict interrupted before Mr. Taylor could protest further. “You will take as much rest as you require and once you are fully able to use your leg again—without any sort of pain—then I wish to see you so that I might decide what is best to do.” He smiled at the astonishment in Mr. Taylor’s eyes. “Of course, you will still receive your pay whilst you are recovering, Mr. Taylor. It is not your fault that you were set upon.”

  Mr. Taylor closed his eyes and for a moment, Benedict feared the man might cry. But the fellow controlled himself with a visible effort, speaking with only a small strain in his voice.

  “You are very good, my lord,” he said, a trifle hoarsely. “I should be glad to do as you ask.”

  “Then you will not run away from the estate?” Benedict asked with a wry smile. “You will not let their threats chase you away?”

  Mr. Taylor drew in a long breath and set his shoulders. “No, my lord,” he said firmly, “I shall not.”

  Benedict grinned and clapped a gentle hand on Mr. Taylor’s shoulder. “Capital,” he said with a nod. “Perhaps one day soon, we will finally be able to discover the truth and, in doing so, finally rid ourselves of these threats.” His smile became something of a grimace. “Although I fear it will have to wait until after this blasted house party.”

  Anything Mr. Taylor was going to say was stolen away by the sound of a voice calling Benedict’s name. It was, unmistakably, his mother and Benedict moved quickly, nodding to Mr. Taylor, who remained where he was, easily able to make his way back to the servants’ quarters once his master and Lady Knightsbridge had gone back inside. Benedict hurried out toward his mother, who was flapping her hands in a most irritated manner.

  “Where did you get to, Benedict?” his mother complained, throwing up her hands. “We must have luncheon and then change so that we are prepared for our guests! No matter how frustrated you might be at this apparent upset over the house party, you promised me that you would behave as expected.”

  “And I shall, Mother,” Benedict replied as reassuringly as he could. “Shall we go indoors?” Feeling a little more genial toward his mother, Benedict offered her his arm which, after a moment of evident surprise, she took. Together, they walked into the house, with Lady Knightsbridge talking at length about the guests and just who precisely would be arriving. But Benedict’s mind was still fixed on Mr. Taylor and all that had happened to him. Would he ever be able to find a way to remove both himself and his staff from this strange and dark mystery? Or was he doomed to forever be at their mercy until perhaps one day, finally, they would have no more use for him?

  3

  “You have said very little, Susanna.”

  Susanna, who had been close to falling asleep, jerked to attention as her aunt spoke to her in a rather loud voice. Most likely so that she could be heard over the sound of the carriage, but still, it gave Susanna something of a start.

  “I presume you are weary from our journey,” Lady Pendleton said with a sympathetic look in her eyes. “But you should rouse yourself, my dear. We are almost at the estate.”

  Susanna tried to awaken a little more but struggled against fatigue. She had not enjoyed the journey and had found it very arduous indeed, even though it was but twenty miles. Her mind had been filled with fears and dark thoughts which had tormented her to the point of exhaustion.

  “I am tired,” she said, feeling her stomach twist as she looked out of the carriage window. “I do hope I have not been a dreadful companion.”

  Her aunt laughed, reaching across the carriage and pressing Susanna’s hand. “You have not been dreadful in the least,” she replied with a smile. “You know how much I enjoy these little excursions and I certainly have not seen you for as long or as often as I like.” Settling back into her seat, she smiled at Susanna. “I do hope you enjoy yourself here.”

  Susanna could find nothing to say, unable to lift her lips into even the smallest smile. The closer they had come to Lord Knightsbridge’s estate, the more anxious she had become.
Quite certain that the moment she stepped out of the carriage, she would be recognized by him in some way, Susanna had become more and more tense.

  “Ah, look! The sea!”

  Susanna could not help but let out a small gasp of delight as she saw the crashing, wild blue ocean open up toward her. Her father’s estate was more than twenty miles from the ocean and whilst she had certainly seen the sea before, she had never been this close to it. With wide eyes she took it in, seeing the fierce, raging swells that appeared to be battered by the wind.

  “Gracious,” she murmured, pressing her fingers to her heart at the marvelous sight. “How extraordinary.”

  “And Lord Knightsbridge’s estate is very close to the sea, of course,” Lady Pendleton said, as though she had visited the gentleman many times before. “One side of his manor house overlooks the sea and I must hope that we are given one of the bedchambers there.”

  “I should like that very much indeed,” Susanna agreed, thinking that there could be nothing more wonderful than looking out at the sea every morning, before one had even fully awakened to the world. “Although, of course, I will be contented with any room we are given.”

  Lady Pendleton chuckled. “A very correct answer, my dear,” she said as the carriage turned a little to the right, turning their view away from the sea. “Lord Knightsbridge is a very amiable gentleman, by all accounts. I am certain that he will be more than willing to oblige, should we request a particular room.”

  Susanna caught her breath, her eyes wide as she shook her head. “Aunt, we cannot demand such a thing, not when the rooms have already been determined,” she said, and her aunt merely smiled. “Surely you cannot mean—”

  “Everything I have heard about Lord Knightsbridge has been excellent,” her aunt interrupted. “If you do not want to ask, Susanna, then I certainly shall.” She laughed at Susanna’s astonished face and ignored her pleadings for the next few minutes and, instead, directed her attention to the grand manor house that the carriage was now approaching.

  Susanna, resigned to her aunt’s firm intentions and praying that she would not be embarrassed by her aunt’s determination, had no other choice but to focus her eyes upon the great manor house that was now on their left as they approached. Her eyes widened at the wonder of it, seeing the many windows gleaming as they caught the sunlight, and the extensive gardens with a large, white fountain close to the front of the house. It was certainly larger than her father’s manor house, although she would not allow herself to be overwhelmed by such a thing. She was well aware that both her father and her aunt were eager for her to make an excellent impression on Lord Knightsbridge but given that she herself did not even want to be at this house party, Susanna could only look forward to the day that they would depart.

  “It is quite an extensive house, I have heard,” Lady Pendleton said as the carriage rolled up toward the front door, making Susanna all the more anxious as she waited for her first sight of their host. “We shall have to make sure we explore the house when we can. There must be a great many rooms and—”

  “And I must behave impeccably, Aunt,” Susanna reminded her, trying to distract herself from her nervousness by talking to her aunt. “I am sure there will be many guests and I certainly do not want to give any of them cause to speak poorly of me.”

  This, she saw, brought her aunt a moment of pause for she fell silent, her lips twisting together as she looked out of the window up at the house. Lady Pendleton drew her breath to say more, but thankfully, the carriage came to a stop just outside the grand entrance to the manor house. The carriage door was pulled open at once and Susanna caught her breath, seeing the footman waiting for them, one hand extended so that she might hold onto it when she climbed down the steps. A sudden flush of heat surged up her spine as she moved forward, wondering when Lord Knightsbridge himself might make an appearance.

  She did not have to wait for long. The front door was suddenly pulled open and a gentleman stood, framed, in the space. Her eyes lifted to him as her aunt came to stand beside her, her breath hitching as her fingers twisted together in front of her. Would he know, simply by looking at her, that she was the one responsible for his difficulties? Was he, perhaps, already aware? There was no perceptible reason why he should but still, Susanna feared that, somehow, Lord Knightsbridge would know that she was the one behind the notes that he had been receiving.

  “Oh, good afternoon!”

  Susanna started with surprise at the sound of a loud, trilling voice that caught both her and her aunt’s attention. A lady had appeared just behind Lord Knightsbridge, who had already begun to descend the stone steps toward them. She flew past Lord Knightsbridge and made her way directly toward them, her hands outstretched.

  Susanna curtsied as gracefully as she could but her aunt, instead of following suit, caught the lady’s hands in her own.

  “My dear Lady Knightsbridge!” Lady Pendleton exclaimed as Susanna looked on in surprise. “How very good to see you again.”

  This, Susanna realized, was how her aunt had come to know a good deal about Lord Knightsbridge and his estate. Her aunt was clearly well acquainted with Lady Knightsbridge whilst Susanna herself had no knowledge of the lady.

  “It is wonderful to be in your company again, Lady Pendleton,” Lady Knightsbridge said as the tall figure of Lord Knightsbridge came down to join them. “And this must be your niece?”

  My aunt has clearly written to Lady Knightsbridge, Susanna thought to herself as she curtsied for what was the second time, albeit for the sake of Lord Knightsbridge, to whom she had yet to be introduced.

  “Indeed, indeed,” Lady Pendleton replied, gesturing toward Susanna with one hand. “My niece, Miss Susanna Millerton.”

  “It is very good to meet you, Lady Knightsbridge,” Susanna said quickly, not quite able to look at Lord Knightsbridge. “Thank you both for your kind invitation.” Lady Knightsbridge, at least, was smiling and her welcome had been very fervent indeed. The same could not be said of Lord Knightsbridge, however, for as yet, he had not spoken.

  There came a moment of silence and Susanna did not know whether she ought to speak, remain silent, or simply leave her aunt to speak, but then Lord Knightsbridge finally opened his mouth.

  “You are most welcome,” Lord Knightsbridge answered, and Susanna finally brought her eyes to his, fully aware of the thumping of her heart and praying that he could not hear it. “Good afternoon, Miss Millerton. Thank you for accepting the invitation.”

  Susanna tried to smile but found that she could not do so, even though her eyes were fixed to his. Lord Knightsbridge was just as she had remembered. He was rather tall and, given that he was holding his hands behind his back, he appeared to have a rather broad appearance. His dark hair was immaculate and his eyes—a dark green, she realized—were fastened to hers with such an intensity that she could barely breathe. No smile played about his lips and he appeared, in fact, to be rather unimpressed with her company.

  “Shall we go inside?” Lady Knightsbridge said abruptly, clearly eager to remove them from this situation. “The summer may be with us, but it is still a little cold at times.” She shot a glance toward her son, which neither Susanna nor Lady Pendleton missed, and immediately, Lord Knightsbridge cleared his throat and gestured toward the door.

  “Yes, of course. You must be rather tired after your journey. Please, do come in and take some rest and refreshments.” As any gentleman would, he offered her his arm and Susanna had no other choice but to take it.

  He began to lead her up the steps and Susanna felt her hand burning as it rested on his arm. Did he appear to be so unwilling to have her present because he knew what she had been doing? Had someone here at the estate told him that it was she sending the notes? Or was there simply a lack of willingness on his part to have guests at his estate?

  He has invited guests for a house party, she told herself as they walked in through the entrance. Of course he wants everyone to be present.

  “I shall hav
e your things sent up at once,” Lord Knightsbridge said, turning toward his mother and Lady Pendleton and allowing Susanna’s hand to drop at the very same time. “Your room is—”

  “Oh, I do hope it is one overlooking the sea!” Lady Pendleton exclaimed, her hands clasped together as she looked from Lord Knightsbridge to Lady Knightsbridge and back again. “Miss Millerton and I were quite taken with the sight of it as we traveled in the carriage, I must say.” She gestured toward Susanna. “You commented on it a great deal, did you not?”

  Susanna felt heat climb into her cheeks as she nodded, not trusting herself to say a single word. She felt as though her aunt had been extremely rude in not only interrupting Lord Knightsbridge in such a way but in also expressing such a personal desire for a particular room. They were guests of Lord Knightsbridge and, as such, ought to allow him to place them wherever he deemed best.

  It seemed, however, that Lady Knightsbridge did not think them rude at all, for she immediately responded with enthusiasm.

  “Oh yes, of course, my dear friend. You must have a room overlooking the sea, if that is what you so wish!”

  “That would be marvelous!” Lady Pendleton exclaimed, her hands clasped together. “But only if it is not too much trouble.”

  Lady Knightsbridge laughed, waving her hand. “It is not any trouble,” she said as Susanna dared a glance at Lord Knightsbridge, noting how he frowned. “Now, do you wish to rest or can I tempt you with some refreshments first?”

  Without even glancing at Susanna, Lady Pendleton accepted the invitation at once and she and Lady Knightsbridge linked arms and immediately walked toward what Susanna hoped was the drawing room. Uncertain as to whether or not Lord Knightsbridge expected her to take his arm again to walk through, she glanced up at him—only to see that he had turned on his heel and was now striding away in the opposite direction, his feet making very little sound as he did so. Utterly embarrassed, Susanna followed Lady Knightsbridge and her aunt, praying that what she was certain was a very poor first impression to Lord Knightsbridge would not ruin the rest of the week.