An Improper Companion

An Improper Companion
Anne Herries

Daniel, Earl of Cavendish, finds the frivolity of the ton dull after the adventures and hardship of the Peninsular War.But boredom rapidly disappears when he's drawn into the mystery surrounding the abduction of gently bred girls. His investigation endangers his mother's new companion, Miss Elizabeth Travers. Although she is tainted by scandal, her cool and collected response commands Daniel's respect–while her beauty demands so much more.

An IMPROPERCOMPANION

ANNE HERRIES

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Afterword

Prologue

‘Charles!’ The Earl of Cavendish stared at his friend in disbelief. He scarcely credited what he was being told. It was too shocking. ‘You cannot truly believe that Sarah has been abducted?’

Charles Hunter raised his tortured gaze to meet Daniel’s eyes. ‘We found her shawl lying on the ground at the edge of the park, and it looked as if there might have been a scuffle—there were foot marks as well as those of carriage wheels.’

‘But who—why?’ Daniel looked at his friend in a puzzled manner. They had known each other all their lives and Sarah Hunter was almost like another sister to him. He was fond of her—had danced with her in the parlour of her home only a few days previously, helping to prepare her for her debut into society that summer. ‘Surely…’

His voice fell away into shocked silence as he saw the look of agony in Charles’s face. ‘I don’t know, Daniel, I don’t know,’ Charles said, his voice breaking with emotion. ‘Sarah is so young. She doesn’t have a beau as far as I know. Besides, I should not have denied them the right to see each other if they had come to me. She must have known that—surely she knew? No, I do not believe she has run away from her family. I believe she has been stolen.’

Daniel was almost too stunned to answer. He was a man of the world and knew well that there were men evil enough to snatch young, pretty girls for their own foul uses. To think of Sarah, whom he thought little more than a child, in the power of such rogues was past bearing. It was no wonder that Charles looked so desperate and he could only imagine the agony that Sarah’s mother must be enduring.

‘You must not give up all hope,’ he said, his hand on Charles’s shoulder, his fingers gripping hard as the emotion turned in him. ‘We shall find Sarah. I swear it, Charles. We shall not rest until she is found.’

‘And what then?’ Charles asked. ‘What if she…?’ He shook his head, unable to continue.

‘We shall face that when we come to it,’ Daniel said. ‘Have faith, Charles. It may be that we shall find her safe…’

It was a nightmare! Surely she was having a bad dream? What was happening to her could not be real. Her sight was blurred as she stared up at the creatures cavorting about her. She was lying on the ground on some kind of silken robe, but where was she? She seemed to be in a wood and it was dark save for the light of a full moon.

A figure was coming towards her. It loomed over her, looking huge to eyes clouded by the foul drugs they had given her and…it was a man and surely he was naked? What was happening? She must be dreaming! Yes, yes, it was simply a bad dream. She was in her own bed and quite safe. And yet through the fog that misted her senses, she dimly recalled being captured. She knew that she had been abducted, which meant that she was not dreaming and that she must wrench her mind from the cloud that bound it.

Giving a scream of terror, she forced herself to stand, her legs trembling with the effort. She had to get away from here or she was done for, she knew it instinctively although her mind was unable to function properly. She did not know how she had come here or who these people were. She only knew that she must run as fast as she could to escape them.

If they caught her, she would die…

Chapter One

Daniel Cavendish surveyed the room, his eyes dark and brooding as he watched the dancers enjoying themselves. Something was missing from his life and he did not know what it was—though he suspected that he still hankered after the adventure and danger of his army days. He had been forced to sell out when his father died, returning to take charge of the Cavendish estate. The past three years had been spent to good effect and his fortunes were now prospering—and yet he was restless. Sarah Hunter had been much on his mind of late, his failure to find her in all these months nagging at his conscience like a rat gnawing at the wainscot of a neglected manor house. Yet in the last few days information had come to them that had given him renewed hope.

‘I think I shall go down to the country,’ he said to the gentleman standing beside him. Where the Earl was tall, broad shouldered and dark haired, his friend was of a more slender build with soft fair hair that he now and then brushed back from his forehead. ‘London has lost its attraction for me of late—and I want to see what I can discover of that other business.’

‘Do you think that wise?’ John Elworthy asked. ‘Even if what we suspect is true, I do not see that there is much we can do about it. No lasting harm was caused to Maria, and as for Miss Hunter…’ He shook his head sadly as another of their friends came up to them. ‘Good evening, Robert. I did not think to see you here this evening.’

‘I had nothing better to do,’ Lord Young said and yawned behind his hand. Of the three he was the one most entitled to be classed as a dandy, his cravat so intricate and high that he could bend his head only with difficulty. ‘It’s dashed dull at the moment, don’t you think?’

‘Cavendish was saying as much,’ John Elworthy told him. ‘He has a mind to investigate that business with Maria…though, for myself, I think it may be dangerous to meddle in Forsythe’s affairs.’ Maria was the sister of his brother’s wife, a young, pretty girl with a great deal of courage, who had recently beaten an attempt to abduct her.

‘Nothing like a little danger to spice things up,’ Lord Young said, a sparkle in his eyes. ‘If you need any help, I’m your man, Cavendish. I dare say Hilary would say as much if he were here. What do you plan to do?’

‘Walk home with me, both of you,’ the earl said. ‘I do not wish to be overheard. I agree that this business is likely to involve some danger, but I think it must be attempted. Maria is a brave girl and the information she gave us helped me. I have begun to make fresh inquiries and I shall show you my agent’s reports…’

‘Don’t mind if I do,’ Lord Young replied. ‘Coming, Elworthy? You may as well—there is nothing here to hold your attention.’

‘True enough,’ John agreed. ‘Let us go then. I believe you are right, Cavendish. If we do nothing, Forsythe will be free to continue as he pleases. I do not know what I should have done if those rogues had succeeded in their foul intent.’ The other gentlemen nodded agreement, for it was unthinkable.

They left Almack’s together, deciding to walk back to Cavendish Place because it was a fine night, completely unaware that they were being followed at a discreet distance.

‘My dear child,’ Lady Wentworth said, feeling distressed as she looked at the girl’s proud face and saw the underlying grief. ‘You will surely not hire yourself out as a companion when I have told you that you may accompany me to Bath this autumn? You know I love you as dearly as if you were my own daughter. Why will you not accept my offer to live with us at Worth Towers?’

‘I cannot accept, ma’am,’ Elizabeth Travers said, softening her denial with a smile. ‘I am very fond of you and grateful for your kindness to Mama, Simon and me these past months since Papa’s death. And after Mama’s…’ Her throat caught with tears that she refused to shed, for the loss of her mother was still raw and too painful to speak of. ‘If you will have me, I shall stay with you whenever I am in need of a refuge, but I cannot be a burden to you. Lord Wentworth has kindly paid Simon’s expenses so that he can stay on at Oxford until the end of the year, which was so generous that I shall be for ever in his debt. Besides, Lady Isadora is in need of a friend and I am delighted that she has sent for me.’

‘But you do not know her,’ Lady Wentworth protested. She was a small, plump lady with a kind heart and was genuinely fond of her late friend’s daughter. ‘And you could never be a burden to me, dear Elizabeth.’

‘You are all kindness, ma’am,’ Elizabeth said. ‘But I have given my word and I believe you would not have me break it.’

‘I suppose not, since it is given.’ Lady Wentworth sighed. ‘But you will promise to come to me should you be unhappy or in trouble?’

‘Yes, indeed,’ Elizabeth promised. She smiled at the lady who had been her mother’s best friend for the past twenty years or more. ‘I cannot think what Mama would have done without your help after Papa died, especially when we learned that he had lost the greater part of his estate to Sir Montague Forsythe in that infamous wager. Had you not supported us, allowing Mama to move into the dower house at Worth Park, I do not know what might have happened to us.’ Tears stood in her eyes for the months that had passed since her father’s death had been difficult and anxious, culminating in the illness and sudden demise of Lady Travers. ‘I can never repay all you have done…’

‘So foolish…’ Lady Wentworth shook her head over the circumstance that had caused Sir Edwin Travers to hazard his estate on a horse race. Such tragic circumstances had resulted from that wager that it did not bear thinking of. ‘Wentworth was inclined to discredit it, as you know. He could not believe that his old friend would do such a reckless thing, but he made inquiries and it seems that there were witnesses—and that your dear father may have been inebriated.’

‘Yes, and that was very odd,’ Elizabeth said, ‘for Papa seldom drank to excess. Mama swore with her dying breath that he had been cheated, for she would not believe that he had been so careless of his family’s well-being—and do you know, I think she was right. I do not know how it came about, but Papa was not a careless man.’