Chapter Nine
Nathaniel and Thomas carried an unconscious John up the narrow steps of the cottage to his bedroom.
The man didn’t wake as they moved slowly up the stairs. Anne was waiting in the bedroom with water and rags.
“Hannah has gone for the doctor,” she said as she set a bowl of water down and soaked a rag in it.
“Good.” Nathaniel removed the man’s waistcoat. “He should have awoken by now.” He glanced at Anne and noticed the stricken look on her face. “Do you have smelling salts?”
“Yes.”
He saw her wince. “Send one of your sisters. You shouldn’t be on that ankle.”
She twisted one of the rags in her hands. “But I have to—”
“I’ll take care of John. Go wait for the doctor downstairs. While he’s here he can look at your ankle.”
“But—”
The woman was beyond stubborn. “Anne, leave now.” She jumped, and limped through the door, pulling it closed behind her.
Nathaniel glanced at the servant, Thomas, as he roughly loosened John’s cravat. “Remove his boots as well.”
“Yes, sir.”
Never in Nathaniel’s wildest dreams did he think he’d be in the position of offering aid to Sir John. “How long has Townsend been staying here?”
“Since Sunday, sir,” Thomas said, a bit breathless from removing the boots. “Miss Anne couldn’t turn him out.”
“No, she wouldn’t.” Nathaniel jerked off John’s jacket with enough force to cause him to groan. “Well, he’s certainly not dead.”
Townsend’s face was bruised and starting to swell. Both his eyes were blackened. He was covered in blood.
“He’s not that bad. Mostly bluster.” Thomas wiped at some of the blood on John’s face.
“Then why is he still unconscious? Perhaps he was hit on the head.”
“Or drunk,” Thomas added.
Nathaniel acknowledged the derision in the servant’s voice. He walked to the washstand and picked up the pitcher. He carried it over to the bed and poured a bit of water onto Townsend’s face.
“What?!” Sir John sat up, then groaned in pain and grasped his ribs. “Where am I?”
“The cottage,” Nathaniel said.
John propped himself up and groaned. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I’m the least of your problems,” Nathaniel said. “Tell me what happened.” He curled his hands into fists. The man disgusted him.
John glanced at the servant. “Leave us.”
Thomas looked at Nathaniel, and he nodded. After Thomas departed, Nathaniel spoke again. “Continue.”
John wiped his bleeding nose with his sleeve and puffed up his chest as much as he could. “I resent your tone.”
“It’s either me or the magistrate.”
“Then call the magistrate.” John dismissed Nathaniel with a wave of his hand.
“If that’s what you wish—but are you sure you want the locals to find out the truth about why you’re here?”
Townsend’s jaw tightened. “I was set upon while walking from the public house. I was going for some ale. There is nothing to drink in this house but tea.”
“Were you drunk?”
John shook his head. “I’d just finished a friendly game with the locals. I was walking through the woods to the cottage to be home before supper when two men approached me.”
Nathaniel grew alert. Could one of these men be the same man who had been lurking around the cottage? “Did you recognize them? Did one of the men have a long ugly scar on his face?”
“I believe he did. I didn’t recognize them. They were dressed too fine for locals. Their hats were pulled low, so I didn’t see their faces. As I passed, one hit me from behind and knocked me out. I don’t remember much after that.”
“Any idea why two men would target you?” Nathaniel had a pretty good idea why, but he wanted Townsend to admit it.
“Not really. I’ve been away from Town for a while now.” John’s eyes shifted away to stare out the window.
The man is lying, thought Nathaniel. “We’ve called a doctor who can confirm if your ribs are broken,” Nathaniel said. “He should be here shortly.”
“If you could find it, I could use a bit of whiskey.”
Nathaniel stiffened at Townsend’s tone. He’d be damned if he’d cater to the idiot. “I’ll have Thomas fetch some from the Lodge.” With that, he stepped into the hall and closed the door.
He found Thomas waiting in the hallway. “On Sunday, I noticed a man staring at the cottage. Have you seen anyone strange in the area?”
“No, sir. Beetham is a quiet village. If there are strangers about, I’d find out about it.”
“Send word to the Lodge if you learn anything.”
“Yes, sir. I’d best check on Sir John.”
Nathaniel watched Thomas enter the bedroom again. He then went to find Anne. She couldn’t help her unfortunate relations, but he’d not have Sir John putting her and her sisters in danger. Though Anne would deny it, this was out of her league. The men Townsend was involved with were vicious.
He found Anne and her sisters in the small parlor downstairs. Sophia paced the room and Anne worked on her mending as Juliet sat beside her.
“He’s awake. He’s sore and has a bloody nose, but he’ll be all right. The doctor will confirm if his ribs are broken.”
“Thank you,” Anne said.
“Has the doctor arrived?” Nathaniel moved fully into the room and stood in front of the window.
“He should be here shortly. Hannah is back and has made tea. Would you like some?”
“Do not get up,” Nathaniel barked. “Someone else can serve tea.” He looked pointedly at Sophia, who was wringing her hands.
“Sophia, pour tea for our guest,” Anne said.
Sophia moved forward, but Nathaniel waved her away. “I’ll get it.” After the debacle in the woods and now this, a bit of brandy would be welcome.
“Miss Anne, Dr. Anderson is here,” Hannah said from the doorway.
“Please show him in,” Nathaniel said. “Anne, he’ll look at your ankle first.”
“I really don’t think that’s necessary. John is in much worse condition,” said Anne.
“Anne is right—he should see John first,” Sophia said tearfully.
Nathaniel ignored Sophia’s comment as Dr. Anderson appeared in the doorway. He was a young man with an easy grin. He smiled at Anne and Nathaniel felt something primitive boil up inside him, especially when Anne easily returned the man’s smile.
“Miss Townsend, how can I be of service?” Dr. Anderson came forward and offered his hand to Anne.
“Thank you for coming,” Anne said and made to stand.
Nathaniel was beside her in an instant and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Sit down. Please. Doctor, Miss Townsend has fallen and injured her ankle. I wonder if you could look at it before we go upstairs to her brother.” Nathaniel remained behind Anne’s chair, his hand on her shoulder.
“Of course, sir.” Dr. Anderson frowned at him but then smiled easily again at Anne.
“Dr. Anderson, may I present Mr. Nathaniel Matthews. He’s Lady Danford’s grandson, here from London. He was kind enough to assist me home after I was injured,” explained Anne.
“If you will permit me to look at your ankle, Miss Townsend?” Dr. Anderson knelt down in front of Anne and she daintily lifted her skirt to show him her ankle. Nathaniel fought the urge to shove him away. He turned and found Juliet Townsend watching him thoughtfully. Damn.
“It’s not broken, just a sprain. I think you should stay off of it for a few days, so no rambles through the woods,” Dr. Anderson teased. “Wrap it with a cold cloth several times a day if the swelling gets bad.”
Anne smiled down at him. “Thank you, Dr. Anderson.”
“I’ll take you upstairs to look at her brother now.” Nathaniel winced at his tone, especially given how closely the sisters were watching him.
He just didn’t like the way the doctor looked at Anne. Then again, he didn’t like the way any men looked at her. This possessiveness was foreign to him. He squeezed Anne’s shoulder gently and whispered, “Stay put.”
Anne glared at him but picked up her mending.
“Follow me, Doctor,” Nathaniel said, and led the man upstairs.
Anne frowned as Nathaniel led Dr. Anderson up the stairs. How dare he act so possessive! Dr. Anderson was a friend. Nathaniel Matthews was only here temporarily.
“Heavens, Anne. I thought Mr. Matthews was going to punch Dr. Anderson when he touched your ankle,” Juliet said, handing Anne a cup of tea. “I think he likes you.”
“Keep your voice down, Juliet,” Anne said. “They’ll hear you.”
“How was it that Mr. Matthews found you?” Sophia asked suspiciously.
“I was walking at the Fairy Steps. He happened to pass just as I slipped and twisted my ankle. Naturally, he accompanied me home.”
“Happened to pass?” Sophia mimicked. “Suddenly, Mr. Worth, Mr. Matthews, Tony, and now Dr. Anderson are fawning all over you. What’s going on?”
Anne sipped her tea slowly. Honestly, this was getting harder to explain with each passing day. She was no good at secrets. “Nothing is going on.”
Juliet also threw her a suspicious look. “There’s something you’re not telling us. You know how bad you are at lying.”
“Yes, Anne. Tell us,” Sophia urged. “Tell me why my soon-to-be fiancé sings your praises when you are near, but returns to normal when you aren’t.”
“Really?” Anne asked. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“I have a copy of the bad poetry to prove it,” said Sophia.
“Ah! Even you agree that his poetry is bad,” Anne teased.
“It’s not so very bad,” Juliet muttered into her teacup.
Anne looked at Sophia and grinned. “Yes, it is.”
Sophia chuckled in return. “It really is.”
“Did Mr. Matthews carry you all the way home, Anne?”
“He did.” She could still feel his arms around her, his mouth on hers, hot and persistent. She squirmed in her seat. He simply had to stop kissing her. It was only a matter of time before they were caught and her reputation was ruined.
“How romantic,” Juliet gushed.
“It wasn’t romantic at all. He carted me home like a sack of potatoes,” Anne said bluntly.
“Potatoes? I would hardly compare you to a sack of potatoes,” Nathaniel said from the doorway. His eyes were twinkling. “You were wiggling too much.”
Anne felt her face flush and set her cup down noisily. “How is John?”
“Broken ribs and bruises,” Nathaniel replied. “Be thankful he has a hard head. I’ve also seen the doctor out. He’ll check on Townsend tomorrow.”
“So John’s conscious?” Anne rose. “Perhaps I should ask him who did this.”
“Stay off your ankle,” Nathaniel ordered.
Anne sat back down with a huff and glared at him. “Did you at least question him?”
“He was hit from behind, so he has no idea who did it.” Nathaniel sat down in one of the parlor chairs across from Anne.
“Who would do this?” Sophia asked.
“I’m not sure, Miss Sophia. The doctor has given him some laudanum for his pain.”
“He’ll be screaming for brandy,” Juliet said. “Or worse.”
“I’ll have some sent from the Lodge,” Nathaniel said. “It will help alleviate the pain.”
“That isn’t necessary,” Anne said. “We can send to the village for some.”
“I insist,” Nathaniel said. “Should I assist you upstairs, Miss Townsend?”
Anne blanched. There would be no way she could hide her feelings from her sisters if he touched her. It would be all over her face, and the ridicule she’d have to put up with . . . well, she just couldn’t. “I can manage on my own.”
Nathaniel turned to Sophia and Juliet. “Have either of you seen any strangers in the area of late?”
“I haven’t,” Anne said. “I walk to the Lodge nearly every day.”
“Not to mention your romps in the woods,” Sophia added. “I have seen a few new people in town, but didn’t think much of it.”
“I ran across a man when leaving here Sunday,” Nathaniel said. “He was dressed rather roughly with a hat drawn over his eyes. His face was scarred.”
“I’ll ask Hannah and Thomas if they’ve noticed anyone,” Anne said. “What do you suspect?”
“Your brother is deeply in debt,” Nathaniel answered. “As you are well aware.”
“In debt to you, I believe,” Anne interjected.
“Not just to me,” Nathaniel continued. “He’s been playing deep in some of the more notorious gaming hells in Town.”
“How do you know this?” Sophia demanded. “Why does he owe you money?”
“Yes, Mr. Matthews, please explain.” Perhaps if Sophia heard it from someone else she would believe it.
“I caught your brother cheating at cards,” Nathaniel stated baldy. “We were playing deep and I knew he had no money to back the bet. He cheated and was caught. I could have challenged him, but didn’t.”
“How much?” Sophia asked.
“Five thousand pounds.”
Judging by the expression on Nathaniel’s face, there was more. “What else does he owe?” Anne asked.
“My guess is that he tried to win what he owed me in the seedier hells and lost even more.”
“I don’t understand,” Juliet said.
“It means John’s debtors are looking to get the money from him any way they can,” Anne said. How dare John come here and bring his seedy friends with him? If he didn’t already have a head injury, she’d be tempted to strike him herself.
“So are we in danger as well?” Sophia asked finally.
“I don’t know,” Nathaniel replied. “I would keep the doors locked and be aware. No walking alone.” He gave Anne a pointed look.
Anne glared back. What was he insinuating? “I’ll be careful.”
“You’ll stay home.” His voice brooked no argument.
How dare he order me about? “I’ll have Thomas accompany me.”
“I’ll have the carriage come down for you.”
“That’s ridiculous. It’s hardly a ten-minute walk.” Anne had had enough of his high-handed ways.
“Nevertheless, the carriage will be here tomorrow.” Nathaniel stood. “Now allow me to carry you upstairs before I leave.” He removed the teacup from her hands.
“I can make it on my own. My sisters are here to help me.”
“How do I know you won’t do something stupid, Anne?” He stood back from her.
“I won’t allow her,” Juliet said quickly.
Anne was partly relieved and partly disappointed. She would have liked to be in his arms again, but didn’t want to raise any more suspicions in her sisters. They were already catching on that Nathaniel was interested in her.
“Good. If she gives you trouble, let me know,” Nathaniel said. “Anne, what time should I have the carriage here?”
“Nine tomorrow would be fine,” Anne said reluctantly. Nathaniel was watching her mouth, his eyes hot. She fought the urge to squirm in her seat.
Nathaniel nodded. “If you see anyone about, send a message to the Lodge. Do you have a weapon here?”
“Just Anne and her fireplace poker,” Sophia said snidely.
Nathaniel laughed. “Do you know how to handle a pistol, Anne?”
“Of course not!” Anne said.
“I’ll bring one by and give you some lessons.”
“No, thank you.” Anne drew the line at guns. She didn’t think she could shoot anyone. Hit them over the head with a poker, yes, but actually kill someone? No. “We will be fine, Mr. Matthews.”
Nathaniel frowned at her. “I’ll have one of the footmen keep an eye out for you.”
Anne stood up. “That won’t be necessary. We can handle things ourselves.”
Nathaniel stepped closer but she held her ground. “How do you expect to do that with just a poker?”
“We’ll manage. I’m sure Thomas has a pistol and he’ll protect us.”
Nathaniel shook his head, and Anne wanted to give in to the urge to kick him. Too bad her ankle hurt. “Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Matthews.”
He looked surprised by her dismissal, but he stepped back toward the door. Anne allowed herself to breathe again.
“I will check on you tomorrow. Make sure you stay off that ankle.” He glared at her before bowing and bidding them good day.
Sophia waited until the front door slammed before she looked at Anne. “He likes you.”
“No, he doesn’t.” Anne collapsed back into the chair, picked up her tea and sipped. It was cold. She set it down.
“Yes, he does. I can tell,” Sophia insisted.
“How?” Anne demanded.
Sophia sashayed over to Anne’s chair, clearly enjoying her superiority. “It’s how he looks at you. Like he wants to devour you.”
“He’s arrogant and overbearing.”
“He’s handsome and wealthy,” Sophia said. “You should try for him. He could afford to send us to London for a Season.”
“My lack of connections and fortune makes me unacceptable. Besides, he’s just playing with me.”
“How do you know, Anne?” Juliet moved to sit next to her. “Sophia’s right. You should see how he looks at you.”
“I’ve seen that look before. He’d have you in his bed before you could blink. It’s that kind of look,” Sophia said knowingly.
“How would you know that, Sophia?” Anne asked.
“Trust me. I know. You mark my words. He’ll propose, and you better say yes.”
“He won’t propose and I don’t have to say yes.”
“Yes, you do, because, and I quote, ‘he could save this family.’” Sophia smirked.
As much as Anne didn’t want to admit it, Sophia was right. Regardless of the wish, marrying Nathaniel would save them. He’d make sure her sisters were taken care of and had the opportunities to marry well.
Anne just didn’t know if she could cope with the heartache that would come when the wish wore off and he discovered what he was stuck with.
The next morning, Nathaniel settled Anne in the library at the Lodge to go over the invitations for the party his grandmother had insisted they have while he was here.
He hated balls. He wasn’t good with small talk, and having to do it while dancing was worse. It was all he could do to concentrate on the steps. He’d much rather settle in the card room, but his grandmother would insist he dance.
Of course, he’d have Anne Townsend to dance with, if her ankle healed in time. For once he looked forward to the waltz and holding her close in his arms.
Certainly she came with baggage, such as her no-good brother, but she had spirit. He liked her independence. He liked kissing her. A great deal.
Nathaniel settled himself in the corner of the parlor by the window. Potted palms hid him from view and the morning sun provided light for reading. He tried to focus on one of the novels he’d brought from London, while he waited for Anne to finish what she needed to do for his grandmother.
His mind wasn’t on the book. Anne’s nervousness around him was just too much fun to watch. She had almost spilled ink on the desk, she got so flustered. He decided to let her get her work done on her own instead of torturing her, choosing to hide in the corner of the drawing room.
He reread a page of his book for the third time, but voices in the hall further interrupted his thoughts. His grandmother and another woman entered the room. From his chair the ladies wouldn’t see him. He started to announce his presence, but hesitated when he found out who the guest was.
“Mrs. Worth, how kind of you to call,” Lady Danford said.
“I had to call on you, Lady Danford, about your companion. She has bewitched my son.” Nathaniel twisted in his seat to spy on the women through the palm fronds.
“Really, Mrs. Worth, I hardly think Miss Townsend is capable of bewitching anyone. Shall I call for tea?”
“I won’t be staying long enough. I demand that you sack that girl.” Mrs. Worth’s face flushed red.
“And what good would that do?” Lady Danford kept her voice civil but cool. “Tell your son to ignore her. She has no fortune and it shouldn’t be difficult for him to find someone who does.”
“I’m not sure I like what you are implying, Lady Danford.”
“I’m sure you don’t. Now what is this really about, Mrs. Worth?”
“My son does nothing but talk about Anne Townsend. He embarrassed himself and me with his obscene reading on Sunday.”
“Your son embarrassed Miss Townsend in front of the entire congregation. I think that warrants at least an apology,” Lady Danford said.
“He wouldn’t have done it if she hadn’t bewitched him. He’s never noticed her before, but now he looks at her and starts reading trash.”
“You mean the Bible, dear. I wouldn’t call it trash.”
Nathaniel sat back. Mrs. Worth did have a point. Cecil had not noticed Anne until that Sunday. He knew Cecil Worth to be more interested in money than in Anne, or at least he appeared that way. Worth’s conversations about the family were centered on non-existent jewels and Sir John’s title.
Even Nathaniel’s own connections might not have come up to scratch if her father were alive. The ton looked down on Nathaniel’s investments for the most part, though they were interested in his wealth.
“You know what I mean,” Mrs. Worth continued. “Please tell me you aren’t including the Townsends on your invitation list for the ball next week. I don’t think I can control what Cecil does.”
“Mr. Worth is a grown man. He should be able to behave in an appropriate manner,” Lady Danford said sharply.
“Those girls have no chaperone. Who knows what goes on in that cottage without any guidance from anyone?”
“What are you saying, Mrs. Worth?” His grandmother’s voice was hard as stone.
“I’m saying those girls are not fit to attend the assembly. I insist they not be invited.” Mrs. Worth’s voice grew louder, more shrill.
A movement in the doorway caught Nathaniel’s eyes. Anne.
Her face was pinched, white. She’d heard everything that harpy said.
“Lady Danford, Mrs. Worth. I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.” Anne clasped her hands in front of her. She had her serene mask in place.
“Anne, dear. Come in. Mrs. Worth was just leaving.” Lady Danford rose and pulled Anne beside her. “Mrs. Worth, you must excuse us as we have other engagements this afternoon.”
“But what about—”
“Your opinions are duly noted. I would suggest if you can’t keep your son under control, you take him to Bath, out of harm’s way.” Lady Danford turned to a footman who suddenly appeared in the room. “Please see Mrs. Worth out.”
Mrs. Worth, her mouth set in a firm, thin line, left the room in a huff.
“Anne, how much did you hear?” Lady Danford took Anne’s hands.
“Enough.”
“Don’t let that bitter old woman hurt you. You’ve done nothing wrong.” Lady Danford turned to the corner where Nathaniel was hiding. “Nathaniel, you can come out now.”
Nathaniel felt his face color as he rose from behind the plantings. “I wasn’t hiding.”
“You should have made yourself known the minute we came into the room,” his grandmother said, taking her seat again. “We need tea.”
“I shall fetch it,” Anne said quickly.
“No, dear. Sit down. You look pale.” Lady Danford pulled Anne next to her on the settee.
“The invitations are completed,” Anne said, changing the subject.
“Good. Give me Mrs. Worth’s. I want to burn it,” Lady Danford said. “That woman just makes me angry.”
“I don’t know why Mr. Worth is acting the way he is,” Anne said cautiously.
“You don’t?”
“I’ve not encouraged his affections.”
“What about Dr. Anderson?” Nathaniel asked. “How do you explain his reaction?”
“Dr. Anderson is a friend. We’ve danced twice in the five years he’s been here. What are you suggesting, Mr. Matthews?”
“I’m suggesting that something funny is going on.”
Anne stood. “Are you suggesting that I’m so unattractive that no one would dance with me unless—”
“You know that’s not what I meant.” Nathaniel began pacing. “Don’t be silly.”
“Now I’m silly? I’ve had enough of this.”
“Sit down and get off that ankle,” Nathaniel roared. Anne sat quickly and looked down at her hands. Nathaniel lowered his voice with a huff. “I’m sorry to yell, but I know it pains you.”
“Children, would one of you like to tell me what’s going on?” Lady Danford said gently. “Nathaniel, sit down.”
“He is mistaken, my lady,” Anne said. “Nothing is going on. Now if you will excuse me, I’ve work to do.” She limped to the door and closed it quietly behind her.
Nathaniel watched her go, fuming.
“Son, what is wrong with you? You’re acting like a jealous fool.”
“I’m fine.” He ran his hands through his hair. Why did he let her get to him? He knew something was amiss. Anne clearly had trouble dealing with the sudden attentions of the men around her. Yet she did nothing to stop it. He flopped into a nearby chair. Anne Townsend was making him crazy.