DefeatedbyLove (2 page)

Daniel stretched his legs out toward the unlit fireplace. It
was devilish hot, even for July. He wished it would rain. It had rained day
after day after day last spring. It had been utterly fatiguing then, but he
missed it now. He sighed contentedly. It had been over a month since he’d taken
Simon’s advice and stopped venturing into St. Giles every night. He’d gone a
step further and steered clear of gaming hells, as well. No fancy boys, and no
St. Giles. He was starting to feel like a useless old man and he found he
rather liked it. Here he was on a Saturday evening, in shirtsleeves and
slippers before the fire sipping brandy and contemplating what book to read, as
opposed to slitting throats, running for his life and fucking strange men. This
sort of life had a certain appeal.

But so did the other one.

When a knock came at the front door he sat up, alert.
Like
a hound on the scent
, he thought disparagingly.
So much for a quiet life
.
He waited in anticipation for Matheson to come and tell him who it was. He
listened intently, but could not discern the voice speaking to his butler. It
definitely wasn’t Simon. He always made a commotion when he arrived.

When Matheson knocked he quickly leaned back in his chair
and assumed a nonchalant pose. “Yes?” he called out. “Come in.”

Matheson poked his head inside. “A young lady to see you
sir. In the family way.”

Daniel racked his brain to try to remember if anyone he knew
was in that condition at the moment. Very Tarrant had her baby several months
ago, and the Duchess of Ashland wasn’t likely to be traveling when she was so
close to her confinement with her third child. Had someone else been overly
fertile and they’d forgotten to tell him? It seemed these happy couples he
called friends were always producing offspring these days.

“Anyone I know?” he whispered to Matheson.

Matheson shook his head. “No sir. And she wouldn’t give me
her name.”

“Is she armed?” It paid to be cautious.

Again, Matheson shook his head. “No sir, not that I can
tell. But I shall make sure to politely request her wrap and reticule.”

“Good man,” Daniel said. “Show her in then.”

A diminutive, curvy brunette entered the library a few
minutes later. Her plain blue gown was attractive and fashionably acceptable,
though not in the height of fashion. She walked with grace despite her obvious
pregnancy, her posture erect and her expression neutral. He stood when she
entered and he noticed she was perusing him as avidly as he was watching her.
His best guess was that she was here to appeal for his assistance in some way.
Perhaps she was a relation of a friend or acquaintance? It was possible she
might even be a Cyprian in sheep’s clothing. He fervently hoped she wasn’t here
to try to seduce him into some foolishly gallant endeavor. Those episodes with
women were always awkward.

“Mr. Daniel Steinberg?” she inquired in a very appealing
tone, pleasant and articulate. Intriguing.

“Yes,” he said. “And you are?”

She hesitated a moment, her steps faltering just slightly.
“I was given your direction by a mutual…acquaintance. He suggested that if I
ever found myself in need of help, I should contact you.”

Ah, so he had been correct. “I see. Won’t you please sit
down?” He indicated another chair opposite the one he’d been sitting in.
“Please excuse my attire. I wasn’t expecting company. I don’t believe I caught
your name.”

She sat down, smoothing her skirts out and Daniel could tell
it was a delaying tactic. She was not as young as he’d first thought. She
looked to be in her mid- to late-twenties; he wouldn’t put her at thirty yet.
This got more curious by the second. Who was she and why didn’t she want to
tell him? Offhand he couldn’t think of anyone he wouldn’t help based on his or
her connections. After all, if she knew someone well enough who knew him well
enough to give his direction, then it shouldn’t be an issue.

“I didn’t throw it,” she said at last with a nervous sort of
smile. “You see…well, you haven’t seen this particular acquaintance in quite
some time. Not since the war, actually.”

A sense of foreboding descended over Daniel. “Oh?” was all
he said in response, keeping his face and voice neutral.

She sighed and licked her lips and Daniel waited impatiently
for her to get up the nerve to tell him who the hell she was.

“My name is Mrs. Christine Ashbury. I am Harry Ashbury’s
wife.” She held out her hand and Daniel shook it perfunctorily, as if his heart
hadn’t stopped beating for one excruciatingly painful moment. “How do you do?”
she said, her polite response almost absurd under the circumstances.

“How do you do?” he murmured dully. Did she know exactly how
Daniel knew Harry? Unbidden his eyes zeroed in on her pregnant stomach and his
own lurched.

“Perhaps I had better start at the beginning,” she said, her
voice filled with resignation.

“Yes, quite,” Daniel agreed, leaning back in his chair and
trying to appear interested rather than devastated.

“This is going to be excruciatingly embarrassing for me, so
please, if you’d let me finish before you ask any questions?” Her cheeks were
bright red with embarrassment.

“Of course.” He was relieved he wouldn’t have to actually
think clearly enough to put a coherent sentence together for at least several
minutes. The idea that she was going to reveal embarrassing personal
information hardly made a difference at this point.

“I’m not sure if you were aware that Harry and I had
married,” she said nervously.

After a few seconds of silence he realized she expected an
answer. So much for blessed silence on his part. “Yes. Yes I knew he’d
married.”

She nodded. “Yes. Well—and I don’t want you to think badly
of him for this—but he left…left me, actually, just a few days after we were
married. For America. He went to America.”

She paused again, apparently determined to make this as
painful for him as it was for her. “I’m sorry. Is he back?” He cursed inwardly
as the question escaped his tightly reined emotional upheaval.

“No.” She shook her head. “I haven’t seen Harry in almost
nine years.”

Several shocked moments passed before Daniel had the
presence of mind to close his gaping mouth. “I see,” he said lamely. By sheer
force of will he kept himself from glancing at her stomach again.

“Well, I’ve heard from him. But not in over four years. He
used to write at least once a year to tell me where he’d been and what he’d
been doing and to check that I had received the money he’d sent. He always sent
a very precise accounting.”

“How kind and generous of him,” Daniel replied. He wasn’t
sure she caught the sarcasm in his tone. The blackguard. Abandonment seemed to
be a way of life for him. Apparently Daniel had been only the first one, not
the last.

“Oh, I didn’t mind his leaving. That sounds awful, doesn’t
it?” She frowned. “What you must think of me at this point.” With a sigh, she
shook her head. “You see, we really hardly knew each other. Although we did
become good chums the few days before and after the wedding, before he left. He
had good reasons for going, and I’ve had a good life with him gone.” She rolled
her eyes. “I’m not really painting myself in a good light, am I?”

“No, no, it’s fine,” he assured her. “Clearly we are talking
about unusual circumstances.”

“Harry was right,” she said. “You are easy to talk to.”

“Harry said that?” Daniel asked, agog that Harry had spoken
of him at any length.

“Not in so many words,” she hedged, glancing away. “But he
did leave me your direction.”

“Indeed. Continue.” Daniel’s curiosity was ablaze by now.
What on earth could this woman want from him?

“Well, suffice it to say that I haven’t seen Harry in a
while. I’ve been leading a quiet life in Surrey.” Daniel did allow himself to
look at her stomach at that outlandish lie. “Well, mostly quiet,” she said, her
cheeks growing red again. “I chose not to live with Harry’s family. Have you
met them?”

“No. I haven’t had the pleasure.”

“It’s one you can do without, trust me.” She licked her lips
nervously. “This is the sketchy part. You see, because I hadn’t seen Harry in a
good long while, I was…lonely.” She paused again.

“Completely understandable,” Daniel said, trying to be
sympathetic.

“But where I live, in Surrey, as a married lady, I’m
really…not available.” Another pause.

“I do believe that’s the general rule everywhere, not just
in Surrey.”

She nodded at Daniel’s observation. “True. But from what I
understand it is easily gotten around in some places.”

Daniel had to suppress a smile as he thought of so many of
his friends and the wives they shared, one wife with two husbands. Too bad Mrs.
Christine Ashbury hadn’t married one of them instead of Harry.

“Well, one thing led to another—you know, that old story of
the handsome coachman—and here I am.”

“There’s an old story about a handsome coachman?” Daniel
asked, bewildered. “What does that have to do with you being here?”

She gave an aggrieved sigh. “Bored wife and handsome
coachman?” she said. “Are girls the only ones warned about that story?”

Daniel was having trouble following the conversation. Mrs.
Ashbury and Simon would get along well. “So you had a dalliance with a handsome
coachman?” he asked, just to clarify.

“Well, you don’t have to put it so bluntly,” she said in a
shocked voice.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “but I thought we were speaking
bluntly. Weren’t you?”

She sniffed in that way women had that let you know you’ve
trespassed where you ought not. “No I was not. But since you insist, yes, I
did.”

“And this,” he said as he waved a hand at her vaguely, “is
the result?”

“Yes,” she said primly, though God knew how she managed to
pull it off under the circumstances.

It was Daniel’s turn to sigh. “While this is…fascinating,
Mrs. Ashbury, I’m still not sure why you are here.”

“I mentioned Harry’s family earlier?” she said as if it were
a question. The lady clearly did not like to have one-sided conversations.

“Yes,” he supplied.

“Well, as uncouth and vicious as they are, they are not
stupid. Once they learned of my pregnancy, they knew it couldn’t be Harry’s.”

Harry’s family was uncouth and vicious? Daniel was
surprised. Harry hadn’t been like that at all. Daniel had a made it a point not
to seek out Harry’s relations or any information about them. He’d made a clean
break of it. As clean as possible, anyway. “It would not take a genius to do
that math, no.”

“Exactly. And so they are not pleased with me.” He now
understood her pauses to mean she expected a response.

“I would imagine not.” She did not immediately pick up the
thread of the conversation and he realized she was waiting for more from him,
but he had no earthly idea what. And so the silence stretched uncomfortably. At
last she looked away, drumming her fingers on the arm of the chair.

“I need protection,” she finally said in a rush. “I believe
that Harry’s family plans to do me in.”

Daniel had to choke back an incredulous laugh and turn it
into a cough. “I beg your pardon?”

“I know it sounds absurd, but I’m quite serious,” she said
earnestly as she leaned forward in her chair beseechingly. “Until now, Harry’s
cousin, Theobald Ashbury, was next in line to inherit the family fortune should
Harry die without issue before his father. They were content to wait, sure that
he would meet with an untimely end in America. They refuse to believe news of
his success over there. Instead they fooled themselves into believing it was
only a matter of time. You see, his cousin is far more like Mr. Ashbury than
Harry ever was. But now, should this child be born while I am still married to
Harry, then by law it will have a legal claim on Ashbury’s fortune. Theo covets
that fortune, and Ashbury wants him to have it. So either Harry has to return
and renounce me or I’m a dead woman, and so is this baby.”

“Is this all conjecture on your part?” Daniel asked in
disbelief.

Sadly, she shook her head. “No. Someone broke into my home,
intent on violence. My…coachman, he chased him off. I came here straightaway.”

Daniel got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “And
what exactly do you expect me to do to help you?” he asked with trepidation.

“I need you to protect me and find Harry and bring him back
to England so he can fix this,” she explained slowly as if she were speaking to
a simpleton. “And we haven’t much time.”

“How much time?” Daniel dreaded the answer.

“About four months, give or take a few weeks.”

Daniel closed his eyes. “It will take that long for
correspondence to cross the ocean, find the proper recipient, and an answer to
be returned.”

“I know. I’ve sent letters already. I had Harry’s solicitor sending
letters. To no avail. No one seems to know where Harry is or even if he’s still
alive. If he isn’t, I need to know that too. It would be enough to appease his
family and leave me breathing.”

“There is no possible way I can find Harry Ashbury for you,”
Daniel said firmly. “I have no better idea where to look than his solicitor
would, I’m sure. As you said, I haven’t seen him since the war. And even then
he was a passing acquaintance. I knew nothing of his life outside of the
military.”

She slumped back in her seat, her dejection evident. “I see.
I was afraid of this.”

“I’m truly sorry, Mrs. Ashbury, but I cannot help you.”

The deep breath she took looked more as if she were building
up to something rather than being let down. He was on guard immediately.

“I was hoping to spare us both the embarrassment of
discussing it,” she said quietly, looking off to the side instead of at Daniel.
“But I’m well aware of your relationship with Harry during the war. It was far
more than passing acquaintance.”

Daniel was stunned into silence.

“Harry revealed all to me prior to our wedding. I was
shocked, naturally, but our course was set. The papers were signed and our
futures planned by misguided but hopefully well-meaning parents. My own parents
died several years before the wedding and I’d been living on a small income
from the Ashburys until I was old enough to marry. I had no other option but to
marry Harry. And he understood that, and apologized for it, as if it were his
fault. The stupid fool.”

She finally looked at Daniel. “I’m sorry. He was in love
with you, you know. He told me so. But he’d lied to you, and he didn’t believe
you felt the same way. And so we went ahead with the wedding. But it only took
a day or two to realize what a horrendous mismatch we were. Harry was
despondent over your failed love affair and I was a frightened young girl who
didn’t know what to do. And so he made the decision to leave, I think to make
it easier on me. And it did. He supported me and I had no responsibilities
toward him. Well, except perhaps to avoid scandal, and now I’ve obviously
failed at that.”

He couldn’t argue with her on that point. “He knew he was
spoken for when we met and yet he said nothing. I do not think he knew what
love was then, nor did I. War makes strange bedfellows.” She blushed profusely,
but he was beyond niceties. She was dragging up old memories and painful
emotions he’d happily buried.

“I guess my hope was that you bore him no ill will for the
way things ended. I’d counted on your generosity,” she said with a rueful
smile, “but everyone has his or her limits I suppose. I do understand.” She
stood and he came to his feet as well. “Again, I’m sorry. For what happened and
for dredging up the past.”

“I am the one who’s sorry,” Daniel said, feeling awkward and
guilty and hating the whole thing. “But regardless of the past, there really is
no way I can find Harry for you in time. I fear no one can.”

“Yes,” she said with a sigh. “That is my fear as well.” She
smiled bravely. “I am glad that I finally mustered the courage to meet you, at
least.” She held out a delicate hand. “Good evening, Mr. Steinberg.”

“Good evening,” he said with a slight bow as he shook her
hand. “Let me show you out. Have you somewhere to go this evening?”

“Oh yes,” she said. “I am not destitute, by any means. As
you know, Harry has done very well for himself.”

“Yes,” he said, sick to death of hearing Harry’s name
tonight. “Well then, let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”

She smiled ruefully again and it was his turn to blush. She
laughed, surprising him. She was certainly resilient. “I shall,” she said
politely.

Matheson helped her into her coat and handed over her
reticule. She took it and gave Daniel a puzzled look. “Why are women not
allowed to bring their reticules into your house?”

He cleared his throat to cover his embarrassment. “Yes,
well, there have been incidents.”

She waited for more, but he kept his silence until she
turned away with a shake of her head. “Good evening, again, Mr. Steinberg.”

“Goodbye,” he said and she walked out without a backward
glance. Matheson closed the door behind her. Daniel stood there for several
seconds, staring at the closed door, wondering if he’d done the right thing.
Should his feelings matter in this situation? She was obviously in need of
help. But helping the wives of old lovers was definitely not in his plans. So
no, he didn’t need to feel guilty. Yes, his feelings of betrayal and
abandonment were completely relevant in this situation. Not that she’d betrayed
and abandoned him, of course. Her absent husband had done that. The same man
had abandoned both of them. But that didn’t make Daniel responsible for her.

His confusing and conflicting jumble of self recrimination
and justification was cut short by a blood-curdling female scream outside his
door and Daniel sprang into action, wrenching open the door and racing out to
the street.

Harry’s wife was holding on to the edge of a carriage door
frame with all her might as a man tried to drag her completely into the
carriage with an arm around her waist. Because of her pregnancy he was unable
to get his arm all the way around her and couldn’t get the necessary leverage
to yank her out of her handhold.

“Stop!” Daniel cried. “Unhand her!”

Before he could reach the carriage it took off, Mrs. Ashbury
hanging out the door precariously, yelling in anger. Daniel ran to catch the
carriage but knew he wasn’t fast enough. Suddenly a man leaped out of the
shadows and onto the carriage steps, which were still hanging down. He gave a
mighty shove to the man holding her and then grabbed her and jumped from the
moving vehicle. Daniel stopped breathing for a moment, imagining the poor woman
crushed under the wheels after he’d coldheartedly sent her on her way. But the
good Samaritan who’d rescued her held her easily as he landed surefooted on the
street and took several steps forward to regain his balance. The carriage
continued down the street at breakneck speed and turned a corner, too far ahead
to catch.

“Did you by chance misplace a lady?” the man asked when
Daniel ran up to him, out of breath and shaking in the aftermath of the
incident.

The voice was strangely familiar and Daniel peered closely
at him in the fading light of evening. “Galahad?” he asked, unable to believe
his old childhood friend had appeared at such an opportune time. But there was
no mistaking his tall, lanky frame and boyish grin.

“I generally go by Mr. Manderley these days,” he said, “or
just Robert. But, yes, it’s me.”

Daniel began to laugh, both at the coincidence and in
relief. “You always did have a nasty habit of rescuing damsels in distress.”

Robert Manderley set Mrs. Ashbury down. She was ashen and
shaking more than Daniel. “I consider it more of a vocation,” Robert said,
holding on to her arm to steady her. “Are you all right, madam?”

“No, I am not,” she said in a voice that sounded perilously
close to tears. “I have just almost been abducted, surely with ill intent, and
rescued with almost as much disregard for my well-being as my abductors
demonstrated.”

“I apologize,” Robert said sincerely. “But I simply couldn’t
think of another way to get you off the carriage quickly.”

She shook her head. “No, there is no need to apologize. You
rescued me. I didn’t mean to criticize you. I was just explaining why I was not
all right.” She sounded out of breath and her color was not improving.

“Bring her to my house,” Daniel said in concern, taking her
other arm. “Where is your carriage, Mrs. Ashbury?”

“I haven’t got one,” she said weakly. “I took a hackney,
which was gone when I exited your home.”

“What?” Daniel exclaimed angrily. “Why didn’t you tell me
that? I would have secured safe transportation for you.”

“I didn’t realize it until I reached the street,” she
snapped back, though her voice was still weak. “I am not a ninny, nor am I averse
to asking for help, as you well know.”

“Daniel,” Robert said in a tone he remembered well from
their schooldays, “I don’t think this is the time to reprimand the lady.”

On cue, Mrs. Ashbury stumbled and then went limp. Daniel
barely had time to catch her before she fell to the pavement. Robert swept her
into his arms again and followed Daniel back into the house, past a shocked
Matheson.