The Abducted Heiress

Jakob shifted his attention from her to the steward, but Desire still felt the impact of his searing blue gaze. Had he been promising he would one day have his revenge on her for this defeat and humiliation?

‘My lady, are you hurt?’ Arscott said more urgently.

Desire gave a start and looked at him. The steward was of slight build and average height. At first sight he didn’t appear much of a fighting man, but as a youth he had been a fearsome sharpshooter during the war between King and Parliament. It seemed his marksmanship was as accurate at the age of thirty-nine as it had been when he was seventeen. Now he was watching her with a worried frown.

‘No,’ Desire whispered, still shaken by the glance she’d exchanged with Jakob. She was only half-aware of Arscott taking the pistol from her. ‘You saved me!’ she exclaimed suddenly. ‘Arscott, you saved me!’

He bowed slightly in acknowledgement of her words. ‘I’m here to serve you,’ he said, though there was a hint of anger in his well-controlled voice.

‘I…I…thank you.’ Desire’s legs turned to water. She turned her head away and locked her hands in her skirts so that no one would see how badly they trembled.

As she did so, she noticed a surreptitious muttering among her household. Jakob was on his feet again. The head porter had put another rope around his neck and was using it to lead him towards the stairs. She was sure her servants would obey her direct orders within the confines of Godwin House—but she had a sudden premonition that a fatal accident might happen to Jakob Smith before he ever reached gaol.

‘Stop!’ The order ripped from her throat.

Everyone turned to look at her. Even in the half-light she saw the sardonic expression on Jakob’s face. He knew as well as she did what the men planned for him.

Desire kept her arms by her sides and her shoulders square, but she gripped her skirts convulsively as she scanned the faces before her. Surely not every man was riven with the need to avenge the violation of the house? But to her dismay, even the usually level-tempered Arscott seemed to be suppressing simmering hostility.

Then she saw Benjamin Finch, her Gentleman of the Horse, who had only just arrived on the roof. Like most of her senior household, he had served her father before her. He was older than Arscott, and somewhat out of breath from running up the stairs, but he was always good at moderating disputes and he commanded respect among the other men.

‘Benjamin!’

‘My lady, are you hurt?’ His voice was sharp with anxiety as he looked first at her, then at the disorder around her.

‘No. Benjamin, this man is my prisoner.’ She pointed at Jakob, letting her hand fall quickly before anyone could see it was shaking. ‘It is my will and command that he be delivered safely to Newgate. He must stand trial for his crimes here today. I want you to make sure that he is delivered unharmed to gaol,’ she concluded in ringing tones.

At the end of her speech Jakob gave a small, ironic bow in her direction. Several servants looked mutinous but, to Desire’s relief, Benjamin immediately accepted the charge she laid upon him. In a quiet, but firm, voice he gave the necessary orders for Jakob to be taken under guard to the gaol.

Now the worst was over, Desire wanted to burst into tears. Two dead men were being carried from her roof. Only by a hair’s breadth had she managed to avoid a lynching, and the angel who’d invaded her garden at sunset had turned into a devil at twilight.

Desire had been a child during the first Civil War. Her father, the Earl of Larksmere, had been a Parliamentarian. For five weeks in 1644 Larksmere House had been besieged by Royalists. For those five weeks Desire had lived in the heart of violence. She’d even suffered the consequences of it—she unthinkingly touched her scarred cheek—but that had been more than twenty years ago. Her life had been peaceful for a long time. The nightmares of the past were no more than distant memories, but she felt as if she’d once more become the frightened, helpless child who’d watched in confusion while adults fought around her.

‘It would be best if you sit down, my lady.’ Arscott guided her to a stone bench. ‘It was an unpleasant incident, but soon everything will be back to normal.’

Desire looked around and saw that he was right. The roof was now deserted except for her and the steward.

‘An unpleasant incident?’ she repeated disbelievingly, amazed that Arscott could so lightly discount what had happened.

‘My apologies,’ he said stiffly. ‘I did not mean to belittle what happened. But it is better not to distress yourself over such things. It is over now.’

‘Yes.’ Desire took a deep breath, determined to maintain her composure in the face of Arscott’s stiff-backed demeanour.

Her family and his had been connected for several generations. Desire’s grandfather had considerably enlarged Godwin House during Elizabeth’s reign, and Arscott’s grandfather had been the master stonemason who’d worked on the new wings. Arscott’s father had also been a mason, but Arscott had chosen to serve the Godwin family more directly. He had begun as a footman and risen to be steward of Godwin House. The death of Desire’s father, followed very soon after by the death of the man Lord Larksmere had appointed as her guardian, could have caused great upheaval in her life, but Arscott’s competence and loyalty had protected her from many potential hazards. She was enduringly grateful to him, though she did not find him a particularly congenial companion.

‘You are right,’ she said, straightening her shoulders. ‘We must not dwell on what just happened. But we must take steps to prevent it happening again. You have often mentioned the possible risk if I go out, but I never thought I would be attacked in my own home.’

‘No, my lady. But you are a rich prize, as we’ve discussed before,’ Arscott replied sombrely.

He spoke in his usual, measured tones, but Desire thought she saw a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. It occurred to her that he might have interpreted her comment as a veiled criticism. That hadn’t been her intention but, now she thought of it, how had the villains gained access to the house?

‘There are many men who wouldn’t baulk at marrying you by force if they had the chance,’ he said grimly.

‘I know that. But I thought I was at least safe here. How did they get in?’

Arscott’s expression blanked. ‘I have done everything in my power to keep you safe,’ he said, ‘but there are gaps in even the best defences. They got in because they bribed one of the new porters. I thought he was acting oddly. When I questioned him, I discovered the villains were already on the roof. I came at once!’

‘Thank you.’ Desire looked around her darkness-shrouded garden. For years she had seen it as her sanctuary. Now it no longer seemed quite so safe. She shivered with fear as she remembered how the man with the pistol had claimed her as his bride.

‘They didn’t all come through the door,’ she said. ‘One climbed the wall.’

‘He did?’ Arscott muttered a curse, then quickly apologised. ‘I’m sorry, my lady.’

He hesitated, then took one of her hands in a comforting grasp. Desire was startled at the unprecedented familiarity of his gesture. She had known Arscott all her life, but he very rarely touched her. She was disconcerted by his attempt to reassure her, and withdrew her hand from his as tactfully as she could.

‘My lady, you know that I will always do everything in my power to protect you,’ he said. ‘But until you are married you will always be at risk from those who seek your fortune.’

‘I know,’ Desire said wearily. ‘But how am I to find a husband? By all accounts the nobility is full of rapacious villains. I’d hate to fall prey to a man such as Lord Rochester. How am I to avoid such a fate?’

‘By choosing a man you know to be honest and loyal,’ Arscott replied.

‘But I don’t know any—’ Desire began, her voice rising in exasperation.

‘My lady, my family has served yours for three generations,’ Arscott interrupted. ‘Your father himself selected me to be his steward. I have always been honoured by the trust he placed in me and the high esteem in which he held me. Under any other circumstances I would never put myself forward in this manner. But your plight is desperate. Until you marry you will always be at risk of further attempts to take you by force. And the years are passing. Soon—’

‘I know!’ Desire longed to hold her own babe in her arms. She didn’t want to be reminded that her chances of doing so diminished with every year she remained unwed.

‘Forgive me.’ Arscott bowed his head. ‘I did not meant to cause you distress. But my lady, there is a way you can safeguard yourself from fortune hunters and have the children you long for.’ He dropped suddenly on one knee beside the bench.

Desire stared at him in disbelief, too startled to notice when he took her hand in his once more.

‘If you had a more worthy suitor I would never put myself forward,’ he said. ‘But as your husband I would continue to protect and serve you as loyally as I have done as your steward.’

‘You want to marry me!’ she exclaimed, dumbfounded by his proposal. The possibility of marrying the steward had never before occurred to her.

‘I will make you a good and faithful husband,’ he assured her, his grip on her hand tightening. ‘You may be sure I will never expose you to hurt or insult.’

‘I’m sure…’ Desire swallowed, hoping Arscott hadn’t sensed her instinctive dismay at the prospect of marrying him. She was grateful for the dim light, which prevented him from seeing her clearly.

What he suggested would no doubt provoke outrage in many sections of society. There was a vast gulf between their social rank and fortunes. But at that moment Desire did not recall that Arscott was the son of a stonemason. It was the thought of sharing his bed that chilled her heart.

She knew that such an objection was foolish and impractical. Most brides had little choice in who they wed. But when she imagined lying beside Arscott in the dark, every fibre of her being cried out against such intimacy. She respected the steward. Admired him even. And God knows she was grateful for his loyalty through all the years of his service. But she didn’t want to marry him.

‘I do thank you for your kind offer,’ she said. She was too soft-hearted to reject him immediately, but she tried to prepare him for her ultimate answer. ‘I will consider it very carefully. Perhaps we can discuss it again when we have all had a chance to recover from what happened earlier. I confess, I’m still a little shaken now.’

‘Of course, my lady.’ Arscott released Desire’s hand and stood up. ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have spoken so hastily. But until you are safely wed you will remain in danger. It will be best if you don’t consider too long.’

Desire suppressed a shiver of apprehension. ‘Perhaps not,’ she said. ‘Anyone else who might have been planning to abduct me will surely think twice now. Now they know they are more likely to end up dead than married.’ The words emerged more harshly than she’d intended. She was still shaken by Arscott’s ruthlessness on her behalf.