A Lady's Guide to Fortune-Hunting(81)

‘Oh, blast it,’ Hinsley groaned. ‘She brought the pistol. Miss Talbot, give it to me.’

‘Let’s calm down now, shall we?’ Kitty suggested politely, ignoring Hinsley. ‘There’s no need for such rudeness. We’re going to leave now, Lord Selbourne, all of us – with our apologies for interrupting the evening.’

The appearance of the pistol had shocked everyone into silence, and it quickly became clear that not one of the men assembled knew quite what to do about it. There was an awkward pause. Archie gaped at Kitty, quite stupefied that such a shockingly vulgar thing was happening in front of him; Hinsley glared at Kitty and held his hand out entreatingly; and Selbourne was staring with wild flickering eyes from Archie to Kitty to Hinsley, quite consternated that his evening should have gone so awry.

‘Miss Talbot,’ Selbourne was the first to speak, in a passable imitation of his own calm. ‘I’m not sure you can expect me to believe that a gentlewoman such as yourself is really going to shoot me.’

Kitty held her hands steady. ‘You’re a gambling man, Selbourne – are you willing to bet on it?’

He ran a sweating hand through his hair.

‘Just let him come upstairs for a bit,’ he implored. ‘You don’t understand the trouble I’m in – I need the money – and he’d barely notice the difference.’

‘I say,’ Archie murmured again, in quiet shock. Selby did not seem quite so glamorous when he was begging.

Kitty just shook her head. They stared at each other for a beat – then two. Then, on the third count, Selbourne jerked his hand, and his men fell back. Taking this for the signal it was, Archie backed away towards Hinsley and Kitty.

‘Er – terribly sorry, Selby, for the inconvenience and – and everything,’ he said, with admirable politeness. ‘But think I ought to get Miss Talbot home, you know, given the weather. You have a very good evening, my lord.’





34


The inn appeared out of the darkness quite suddenly. Radcliffe cantered ahead, dismounting in the courtyard swiftly and throwing the reins of his horse at the stablehand.

‘Hold him!’ he commanded, stalking inside.

Ahead of him, leaning against the innkeeper’s desk, was Lord Montagu, arguing fiercely with the innkeeper.

‘If you would just listen to me – it’s important – we just need—’ He broke off with a yelp, as Radcliffe caught him by the ear and wheeled him around.

‘How dare you!’ Montagu yelled in outrage, brandishing a fist. Radcliffe evaded the appendage easily and pulled on the ear again to get the boy’s attention.

‘Where is Miss Cecily?’ he asked grimly. ‘Is she hurt?’

‘I must say I do not think it any of your business, my lord’ – another twist of the ear – ‘ow, stop, let me go. She’s in there, she’s perfectly well.’

Radcliffe dropped him immediately. ‘We’ll be having words in just a moment,’ he said grimly.

The innkeeper was watching proceedings with a supercilious air of satisfaction. ‘I told you, boy,’ he said to Montagu. ‘Told you people’d be after you.’

‘Send one of your men to wait on the road,’ Radcliffe instructed the man. ‘Look out for my carriage and flag it down – it shouldn’t be too far behind now.’

He passed a coin over, and then strode into the antechamber to find a red-nosed and thoroughly miserable-looking Miss Cecily sitting close by the fire. She looked up, shocked.

‘Radcliffe? What are you doing here?’ she asked in surprise.

‘I might ask you the same question. Are you hurt? I saw the carriage.’ He scanned her person for injuries.

‘I am unhurt,’ she said faintly. ‘It had already thrown the wheel before the tree fell, so we were all fine – even the horses.’

‘Good. Well, up you get – we’re going back to London, now,’ he said briskly.

‘No, I’m not,’ she said mulishly. ‘I don’t have to do what you tell me.’

‘I am here,’ he said – gathering some last vestiges of his patience from the very bottom of his soul – ‘on your sister’s behalf. Had you thought how this would worry her?’

‘As if she would care!’ Cecy said, standing, her whole body trembling. She was taking to dramatics beautifully. ‘All she cares about is parties and flirting and a-and—’

‘And solving your family’s financial troubles so that you have somewhere to live?’ he suggested.

She deflated, looking suddenly more like the lost child she was.

‘I could not think what else there was to do,’ she said miserably. ‘She can be so hard to talk to sometimes – I did try.’

‘Come,’ he said gently, softening in the face of her distress. ‘I think it best you try speaking to her again. You can return to London in my carriage, with your maid by your side. Montagu will remain here, to attach no whisper of impropriety to your name. No one need ever know.’

Cecily nodded, tremulously. This agreed, Radcliffe left to procure her some hot tea while they waited for the carriage. He walked almost immediately into Montagu, who was hovering by the door and looked to have gathered back some of his gumption.