Promise of Redemption Page 3
A ripple of anger began to make its way through Christina’s frame, her eyes misting with sharp fury. He had no idea what he had actually done, believing himself to have done a wonderful thing for her while robbing her of the dreams she’d harbored for so long.
“You will be a duchess one day!” the marquess exclaimed delightedly, letting her go and striding around the room, before turning back to look at her with a finger in the air and adding hurriedly, “Provided the son agrees, of course, which I’m certain he will.”
“Agree?” Christina repeated, faintly, her anger now being replaced with confusion and a bit of suspicion. “What can you mean, Father? He doesn’t know?”
He shrugged, as though it was not all that important, waving a hand. “The duke has yet to convince his son, that is all, but I am sure the marquess will do just as he is expected.”
“But you cannot guarantee it,” Christina replied, tears of frustration now forming in her eyes. “Father, how could you do this? If it becomes known that I have been turned down, then I will be shamed and no gentleman will want to come near me. What were you thinking?”
Her father held up his hand, stemming her torrent of words. “Christina, please. I have been careful to make all the arrangements properly. No one yet knows of this arrangement other than the duke and likely his family by now. Once you have met and courted, the banns will be posted and all will be well.”
“But only if he agrees,” Christina stated, seeing her father’s answering nod. “And, given how poorly you think of me in terms of my beauty and my activities, what makes you think that he will do so?”
To her surprise, her father chuckled as though she had made some kind of joke. “Because, my dear, he is a recluse! He has not been in society for many years and has only been encouraged back due to his father’s insistence. I am sure he will not mind what kind of bride he marries, so long as she is entirely suitable to be his wife — and you, my dear, have all of the necessary qualifications. You have manners and tact, and are very presentable.”
Her breathing became ragged, her fingers lacing together so tightly that they hurt. She couldn’t look at her father, her gaze resting on the intricate pattern of the green, gold, and cream Aubusson carpet at her feet as she tried to take it all in.
“The duke will convince him, I am sure of it,” her father continued, nonchalantly. “Do not worry, my dear, all will be well. Ah, my daughter, a duchess!” He shook his head as though hardly able to believe it, beaming at her.
“When do we leave?” she asked, suddenly desperate for him to leave her alone so that she might consider her sudden change in circumstances. “Is it soon?”
“In two days’ time,” he replied, making his way toward the door. “And we have our first engagement in five days from now — a ball, at Lord Fauconberg’s home. An old friend of mine, you see, who will be delighted to welcome you.” He made his way toward the door, his smile never fading. “And you shall meet your betrothed there, that very night! I shall ensure that you have all you need to make an excellent first impression, my dear. He shall have no need to turn away from you.”
Christina knew that she ought to thank her father for what he had done, was expected to thank him, but her mouth refused to form the words. She tried to nod, to smile, but her face was frozen in a state of astonishment.
“Yes, well…. I can see that this has come as a bit of a surprise,” the marquess finished, clearing his throat as he opened the door. “I shall see you again at dinner this evening, Christina, and we can talk some more then, should you have any questions.”
Christina nodded, looking down at her knuckles, now white from the tight grip of her hands clasped together as she looked away from him, her stomach swirling with sudden nausea. She did not say another word, waiting desperately for the sound of the door closing behind her father.
The gentle click of the handle told her that she was blessedly alone. Rising from her chair, she strode to the window and looked out at the scene before her, drinking it in as though it would revive her. If all went to her father’s plan, she would not be calling this place home any longer. Her removal to London was not to be the exciting few months she had dreamed of but was instead suddenly filled with an unknown dread, for it meant an introduction to a man who had been chosen for her. Being a duchess meant nothing, for she had never had any wish to increase her status within society. All she had wanted was the chance to have a Season of her own, an opportunity to meet and consider gentlemen herself, to find a man who would share her interests, her joys, her penchant for life.
But it was not to be so.
Within a few minutes, she had learned that her life here was over. Whether she wanted to or not, it was her time to leave, time to move on with her life — except that her destination was not one of her own choosing. Her father had done the same for her as he had done with her brother — ordered and organized her life for her. Her brother had married, though from what she had seen, he was not altogether happy, choosing to spend most of his days separated from his wife.
She did not want the same for herself, and all because her father believed that she would not be able to attract a gentleman on her own. That tore at her heart, the thought of how her father saw her. Not good enough, not attractive enough, not respectable enough as a bluestocking, but — as he had said — her only redeeming qualities being that she was polite and presentable. Tears began to pour from her eyes, her anger and frustration ripping her in two. She had only wanted the chance to choose for herself, even one Season to determine if there was a match for her. Alas, her life was not her own. The control of it would pass from her father to her husband, and that was how it would be, despite what she wanted.
She had never felt so helpless, had never felt so alone — and there was nothing she could do to change it.
3
Daniel shuddered as he stepped into his new home, trying not to recall what he had seen the last time he had stepped across the threshold of his previous London home. After ridding himself of his former townhouse, whenever he had been required to return to the city, he had always stayed at an inn or with Lord Hudson. It was not as though he hadn’t the funds to keep it, but had considered it to be a useless investment, for he had no intention of spending any prolonged length of time in London.
“Thank you,” he murmured, glad that he had been able to take his butler with him to London as he handed the man his hat and coat. Woodward, who had arrived a couple of days prior to Daniel to arrange everything for his stay, was near his father’s age, but Daniel had always felt comfortable around him, even before the incident. “Are you sure they will be able to spare you back in Ravenhall Manor?”
The butler smiled, his eyes alight with a sudden spark of mirth. “I’d say so, my lord. That young footman will do very well in my place. In a year or so, I’m sure he’ll be looking for a place of his own in another household. A proper butler needs a proper domain, and he will be past the realms of a mere footman by then.”
Daniel shot him a rueful smile. “Well, I do rather monopolize your time, do I not? I suppose it is rather a good thing that I have another man able to step into your shoes at short notice.”
Woodward nodded, and Daniel was reminded of just how much he had come to depend on Woodward over the last few years. The man had not left his employ, not even after the horror that had been Laura’s death, and he seemed to know precisely what Daniel needed. He was the only member of staff who was aware of Daniel’s ongoing nightmares and ensured that he was very well looked after when an episode left him weak.
“Should you like to change for this evening’s dinner, my lord?” the butler asked, changing the conversation topic quickly.
Daniel’s lip curled. “Ah, yes. Dinner with my parents? Across the street … how fortunate.” He knew that sarcasm dripped from his words but did not hide it from his butler, who knew how much Daniel despised being ordered about.
“Indeed it is,” Woodward calmly replied. “Shall I have
the valet lay out your things?”
“I suppose you must.”
The butler paused for a moment. “And Lord Hudson is waiting for you, my lord.”
Daniel spun around at once. “Hudson? Here?” He knew Hudson had returned to London before Daniel himself had, but he had not expected to see him so quickly. A faint note of worry stirred, and Daniel hoped that nothing had gone awry.
“In the drawing room, my lord, although he told me to allow you to get settled before informing you that he was here.”
“And I am very glad you ignored that missive,” Daniel replied, taking a step forward. “Thank you, Woodward.”
“You can find the room down this hall, through the first door on your right.”
Daniel nodded and made his way down the corridor, which was lined with watercolors and a portrait of his grandfather. So his mother had been here. It was certainly not styled in Daniel’s taste, but he had no plans to rectify the situation, as he did not intend on staying here long — only until he could convince his father the folly of his actions.
Turning into the drawing room, Daniel’s lip curled as he took in the feminine decor of the room, the floral arrangements and the colorful seating around an elegant sofa table. He couldn’t help but grin, however, at the sight of his friend looking altogether uncomfortable seated in one of the overstuffed chairs, brandy in hand.
“I see you’ve already helped yourself,” Daniel chuckled, as he sat down opposite. “Just like you, Hudson.”
“I think I deserve it,” Lord Hudson muttered, not looking in any way pleased. “After what I’ve been through, I need more than one of these.”
The smile left Daniel’s face at once. “What happened?”
“Look, Ravenhall, I know what you — what we are trying to do is for the betterment of others, to seek justice for those who cannot find it for themselves, but my God, sometimes you wonder, is what we do making any difference at all?”
Daniel sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“I know it may seem that way, Hudson,” he said. “But the way I see it, if I can help another poor soul find the justice I seek for myself, or even prevent it, then yes, for one person what seems like a small action can make a big difference.”
“You know this will never satisfy your own loss,” Hudson said quietly, and Daniel threw him what he hoped was a scathing look, but Hudson continued, as the only person other than Woodward who knew what Daniel had gone through, what he still saw many nights. “I understand your motives, Ravenhall, and I support what you are doing more than any other. But that doesn’t mean I condone all of your methods.”
Daniel remained silent, choosing not to answer his friend. Over the last year, he had put together a small group of men who reached out to others on his behalf, using his funds and his support. Daniel did not always get involved but allowed Lord Hudson to take most of the control. It meant that he was able to stay at Ravenhall Manor and take care of his own tenants and land, knowing that there was good being done in his name. Of course, at times he came down to London to involve himself in whatever was going on, when it was required to take things further than his men were willing to go. The less time he spent in London, however, the less he battled his demons.
Thankfully, Lord Hudson had been more than willing to get involved. He was a viscount who had very little else to do, other than marry and create heirs, which he was not particularly inclined to do as yet. He’d always said he had a very charming, very practical younger brother who had already produced children of his own, so that there was nothing particularly urgent about his own matrimonial state. It seemed that, aside from their love of port and good books, both Daniel and Lord Hudson shared a sense of injustice for those of lesser means who needed help and protection. Hudson was involved practically, while Daniel, for the most part, took on the monetary issues. All in all, it was a beautiful partnership.
However, there were times when Hudson appeared to be rather discontented with what he had seen and what he had been required to do. Tonight appeared to be one of those moments.
Daniel watched carefully as Hudson threw back his glass of brandy, his expression dark.
“Hudson, what happened?” he asked again, a little abruptly. “Speak, man, and stop drinking yourself into a stupor.”
Thankfully, Hudson appeared to hear him this time and shrugged. “It’s all sorted now, Ravenhall, you will be glad to hear. I took a punch to the gut and had to drag one of those brutes of a husband along to the authorities, but it’s nothing too much to bear. It was just seeing the state of those children.” He shook his head, passing one hand over his eyes. “How can a man treat his own kin that way?”
Daniel felt his stomach tighten as he recalled that, during his last short visit to London, he had been told of a woman in need whose husband was drinking himself to death and neglecting his duties to his wife and children. Daniel had wanted to help, and Hudson had promised to look in on the lady. Apparently, it had been worse than Daniel had feared.
“They’re safe now, of course,” Hudson continued, settling Daniel’s mind. “Put them in one of those houses you’ve rented, although by the looks of things, that one’s almost full.”
Daniel nodded slowly, his brow furrowing as he tried to think of what to do next. He had already rented three large homes in London, which he had proceeded to fill with those who had nowhere else to go. Each house had a small staff of its own, with the residents contributing to the cleaning and upkeep. Any disorderly behavior was swiftly dealt with. Alcohol was not allowed, and anyone found with it sloshing about inside them was, on their second offense, sent away without hesitation. Two of the homes were solely inhabited by women and children, those who had been neglected or mistreated by their husbands and needed a place to stay — for a few days, months, or years, depending on the case. The problem with the law in this country was that it turned women and children into possessions. A woman became her husband’s property on the day she married, and nothing was going to stop that.
But he could help.
“There is another house available near the others,” Lord Hudson continued, helpfully. “Might you be interested in that?”
Daniel’s expression cleared and he chuckled. “Yes indeed. You know me far too well, Hudson. I should have sent you to my solicitors directly.”
Lord Hudson managed a grin. “What makes you think I have not already dispatched a note to them?”
Rolling his eyes, Daniel pulled himself up from his chair and went to pour himself a drink, topping up Hudson’s glass. “I am sorry it was a bad one, Hudson.”
The man shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “It happens. I’m just glad that we can help. You are a very generous man, Ravenhall, although I am sorry that you were forced to come back to London.”
Daniel said nothing as he sat back down, though he shook his head. “I’m not a good man, Hudson,” he said. “You know some of the things I have done.”
“True, but—”
“The man who went after my brother and now sister-in-law, do you remember what happened to him? Or the sop who tried to force himself on my sister? News takes some time to reach me, but when it does … well. Let’s simply say my anger sometimes gets the better of me.”
Hudson looked down at his drink before lifting his head to meet Daniel’s gaze.
“It doesn’t have to be that way, Ravenhall. You can find justice without taking the life of another.”
Daniel shrugged, and the familiar self-loathing crept through him as he clenched his teeth together. “It’s not as though I have ever taken a life with my own hands, though I might as well have, as I have directly arranged it. It’s only that I’ve not the courage to go through with it myself.”
“You are here now, close to your family once more.”
“Indeed. But I had no choice. I had to return else I would not be able to continue supporting those who require it.”
“You could always tell your father what you are doing.”
Lord Hudson shrugged, his brown eyes flickering. “Mayhap it might do you a world of good to talk to someone about it. You hold it all in here,” he said, tapping the side of his head. “You know that I would be willing to listen.”
“What is there to say?” Daniel asked, narrowing his eyes at Hudson. “I am trying to forget it all. The only thing that will bring me any relief is the knowledge of Lord Northcliffe’s whereabouts so that I might begin my pursuit of him.” Such was the fervor in his heart that he did not realize he had clenched his fingers into a fist until Lord Hudson cleared his throat and nodded at his clasped hand.
“Your anger has simply grown over the years.”
“Would yours not?” Daniel exclaimed, a little surprised at his friend’s questions. They had been working together for some time and this was the first time in as many months that Hudson had challenged him.
Lord Hudson nodded slowly, his eyes thoughtful. “Yes, I am sure my anger would flourish, but what is it that you plan to do, Ravenhall? Kill the man? Exact justice in your own way?”
Daniel felt his stomach churn at the thought of placing his hands around another man’s throat, of pulling a trigger or pushing a sword point home, but in this case, he would not send another to do the job for him. “The constable cannot do anything. There is no evidence other than the butler’s testimony, and he is too loyal to be trustworthy to any other. Even the implement that was used to bludgeon her was gone.”