Anne Herries

Courted by the Captain


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Fifteen

      Prologue

      ‘By God, we did it!’ The four cousins looked at each other in triumph. The news had just arrived that Napoleon was in retreat. After days of bitter fighting, when it had seemed that Wellington’s troops must suffer defeat, even a rout, their astute general had turned the tide. ‘We’ve suffered terrible losses, but we’ve done it.’

      Each of the four men had been wounded. Mark Ravenscar, the eldest, had but a scratch on his cheek and some slight damage to his sword-hand. Since he was generally considered to be a lucky so-and-so, handsome, rich and favoured by the gods, that was, in the opinion of his friends, hardly to be wondered at. His younger brother Paul had wounds to his head, right arm and left thigh, but was still amongst the walking wounded. Hallam Ravenscar, their eldest cousin, also had a head wound and another to his left arm, and Adam Miller, their cousin through the female line, was severely wounded in his right shoulder. However, they had all been patched up by the surgeon and none of them were considered in danger of their lives. Indeed, their wounds had merely made them first in line for transport home to England.

      ‘Boney is done for,’ Hallam said. ‘Old Hookey won’t let him off so easily this time. He escaped from Elba to cause chaos once more, but he wasn’t the same man. Even so, he can’t be allowed to run riot again. They will have to make sure he’s confined securely.’

      ‘Well, we’ve survived and that’s what matters,’ Mark said and smiled at his cousins. ‘At last I can marry Lucy.’

      ‘You lucky dog.’ Adam grinned as he clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Lucy Dawlish is the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. You have it all, my friend—a wonderful life waiting for you in England.’

      Mark’s eyes reflected concern as he nodded. ‘Almost too perfect,’ he said. ‘You’ll come about, Adam. Your grandfather has the title of earl and a large estate...’

      ‘Most of which is mortgaged,’ Adam said gloomily. ‘The earl feels it to be my duty to marry an heiress. This little sortie was my escape from being thrust into a marriage I could not stomach.’

      ‘He can’t force you to marry to save his skin,’ Hallam said. ‘You have your father’s small estate—don’t let the earl bring pressure to bear.’

      ‘He says it’s my duty to the Benedict name.’ Adam sighed. ‘The trouble is, I know he’s right. I ought to do my duty by the family—but I’m not ready to marry just yet.’

      ‘Stick to your guns,’ Mark told him. ‘You were not the one who wasted the Benedict fortune. Your grandfather gambled recklessly. He should have known better at his age.’

      ‘He claims he was cheated,’ Adam said. ‘If he would give me the name of the rogue who fleeced him, I would call the devil out.’

      ‘That’s why the earl won’t tell you,’ Paul added. ‘He would rather have his only grandson alive than recover his losses. I dare say you’ll find a way to pull through. Besides, you may find an heiress you like.’ He smiled fondly at Adam. ‘We’ll all look round and find you one—a girl who is neither ugly nor stupid, but as rich as Croseus.’

      ‘An impossible task,’ Adam said, laughing. ‘I am lucky to have such good friends. I trust you will remain my friends if I’m reduced to marrying the daughter of a wealthy Cit?’

      ‘Through thick and thin,’ Hallam said. ‘We’ll all stand by each other. We came through this war by watching each other’s backs—we shall remain friends for life.’

      ‘Hear, hear,’ the others echoed.

      ‘If any one of us is in trouble, the others will back him up.’

      ‘In life and in death.’

      Each of the men repeated the solemn promise they had made a few days previously when they’d been facing death together. Now they had only to face the future, and for four gentlemen of varying degrees of fortune, the future looked far brighter than it had only days ago.

      ‘In life and death...’

      They clasped hands, one upon the other, and grinned at each other. Adam’s troubles were nothing that good fortune and a determined mind could not overcome.

      Chapter One

      Miss Jenny Hastings glanced round the crowded ballroom and knew she had to make an instant escape. If the marquis saw her he would find a way to corner her, and she was determined he should not catch her in his trap. If there was one man she truly could not bear, it was Fontleroy. The way his eyes followed her was enough to send cold shivers down her spine. His was a calculating gaze, as if he thought her vulnerable and at his mercy—which, since the death of her beloved father, she was in danger of becoming.

      ‘Oh, Papa,’ she murmured beneath her breath. ‘Why did you have to leave me alone so soon?’

      She was not of course entirely alone, but her Aunt Martha and Uncle Rex were all but useless at protecting her. Her aunt believed anyone above the rank of lord must be conveying a favour on her niece by seeking her hand, and her uncle spent most of his life shut up in his library, unwilling to bother his head about his pretty niece.

      In a hurry to quit the ballroom, Jenny almost bumped into one of the most beautiful girls she’d ever seen. She smiled and apologised, instantly recognising Miss Lucy Dawlish.

      ‘Forgive me,’ she said. ‘I wanted to avoid someone—did I tread on your foot?’

      ‘No, not at all,’ Lucy said and smiled. ‘Jenny—it is you. I thought I caught a glimpse of you earlier, but it is such a crush, isn’t it?’

      ‘Awful,’ Jenny agreed. ‘Which means the evening is a huge success. I came with my aunt and her friend Mrs Broxbourne. They have been talking all night and I was dancing quite happily until he turned up.’

      Jenny moved her head to indicate the man watching them from the far side of the room. Lucy frowned and looked at her curiously.

      ‘I do not think I’ve met the gentleman. He is not unattractive.’

      ‘His soul is as black as pitch,’ Jenny said. ‘I can’t prove it, but I think he had something to do with Papa’s accident. He lost a considerable sum to the marquis that night...’

      ‘Oh, Jenny—are you in trouble?’

      Jenny considered, then inclined her head, her cheeks a little warm. ‘Papa lost a great deal of money, Lucy—and my aunt seems to imagine I should be glad of the marquis’s interest. But I would rather die than be forced to marry such a man.’

      ‘Then you shall not,’ Lucy replied instantly. ‘Although only my close friends know it, my engagement is to be announced quite soon and we shall be going home to the country to prepare. Do say you will come and stay, Jenny. Mama was only saying yesterday that she did not know how she would part with me when I marry. I shall not be far away, but she would be delighted to have you as her companion. She has always thought you a sensible girl with beautiful manners and I know you would be doing her a kindness if you would make your home at Dawlish Court.’

      ‘How kind you are,’ Jenny said, looking doubtful. ‘Are you certain your mama would welcome a long-staying guest?’

      ‘She would love it of all things. I am her only daughter and neither of my brothers has yet obliged her by marrying. They spend all their time in London or Newmarket. Mama would adore to have you—if you can persuade your aunt to allow it.’

      ‘Oh, I think I might.’ Jenny breathed a sigh of relief as the marquis walked away, heading, she imagined, for the card room.

      ‘Then it’s all arranged. We shall take you up next week when we leave town. You must bring plenty of clothes for you will need them.’

      ‘Thank you.’ Jenny smiled at her. ‘I think that gentleman is coming to ask you to dance. I shall