Garrett opened a jar of ink and then wrote a note to be delivered to Raven’s Park. He outlined, as concisely as possible, the events of the past twelve hours. He wrote that Natalie had suffered an injury, but the doctor assured him she would recover fully. The rain had passed, and a servant could be dispatched right away. He pulled the bell pull and handed it to Mr. Hampden with strict instructions.
And then, in his exhaustion, he contemplated his own circumstances. He’d made off with a lady of noble birth—overnight—a lady who now lay injured in his very own bedchamber. He’d not truly been alone with her. He’d notthrown her over his mount and made a run for Scotland. It was all simply a mistake—a criminal mistake. Would he be absolved? Would the events be considered scandalous? Not that he gave a shilling for his own standing, but he minded for Natalie. Her reputation already hung in peril—would she be ruined by this? His mind teased him with the thought that they would be forced to marry.
But would Ravensdale countenance it? Would she? Garrett felt beyond tired. Chasing these thoughts around his already muddled mind was useless. He removed himself to the leather couch, near the fireplace, and collapsed. It took but a few moments before he fell asleep, boots and all.
Garrett had not slept long before being awakened by a loud pounding. Hearing a familiar voice in the foyer, he had no doubt who had arrived. God, he needed a bath. He’d forgotten all about the one Marcus had drawn for him earlier. But even a tepid bath would feel good at this point.
Despite not having imbibed any spirits recently, his head throbbed as though he’d spent the previous night soused. Rubbing his hands over his face, he rose reluctantly to face one of Natalie’s brothers.
“Darlington.” Garrett spoke quickly, not wishing his housekeeper to become any more flustered than she already was.
The viscount turned and, catching sight of Garrett, narrowed his eyes. Soaked through with mud clinging to his splattered boots, Natalie’s eldest brother must have travelled straight through. Garrett ignored his guest’s appearance, though. He found the murderous intent in the gentleman’s eyes a more pressing concern.
Garrett braced himself, knowing what was coming the split second before his head snapped back from the well-deserved blow.
Darlington had obviously frequented Gentleman Jackson’ssometime in the recent past for the well-placed punch landed soundly. Upon impact, light exploded in Garrett’s head.
Stumbling slightly, he rubbed at his jaw and prepared to defend a second attack.
But the viscount seemed satisfied as he examined his knuckles casually. “Hawthorne.” He nodded.
Garrett took a moment to gather his wits before speaking. Pain spread through his jaw and into his left eye.
“Did you, by chance, happen upon the courier I sent a few hours ago?” Without waiting for an answer, Garrett led the viscount into his study.
“I did,” Darlington answered from behind. “I sent him along to notify my parents of Natalie’s…situation—and of her safety.” Eyeing the makeshift room, Darlington asked, “Shall we obtain the special license from London? Or do you think one can be had in Reading?”
Garrett shook his head wearily at the question. Before falling asleep, he’d decided on one thing. Only as a last option would he allow the two of them to be forced into a betrothal.
Furthermore, he would insist that all possible alternatives be discussed with both her father and the lady herself. He knew Natalie would hate having such decisions made without her consent.
Perhaps she could travel to the Continent for a year or two until the scandal blew over. She herself had once told him there were other solutions for such situations. Thetonwas a fickle group. What enraptured them one moment could be forgotten in the next. Besides, who could know of her presence here? Surely no more than a few servants and her family.
Darlington shattered that assumption with his next words. “The entire house party knows she went missing last night. Many assisted in an all-night search. On the heels of her broken engagement, she is ruined.” As angry as the man had appeared moments earlier, he merely looked resigned now. “You are the last person I would have chosen to marry my sister, Hawthorne, but if there isn’t a marriage, and a quick one at that, she’ll never be able to show her face in society again.” And then, walking over to the window, he let out a heavy sigh. “Where is she now? The doctor seemed convinced of his diagnosis?”
Garrett felt a grudging sympathy for the man. He’d obviously had no sleep himself and had been forced to travel after a frantic search throughout the night. “Sit down, Darlington. She is sleeping. The doctor believes she was concussed. We are to awaken her every hour or so.”
Torn between defiance and fatigue, Darlington hesitated before fatigue won out and he dropped into the chair. “What the hell happened? The note said she had been trapped inside a trunk?” His eyes narrowed threateningly again. “She was borne away on your carriage. You must know how this story will play out.”
“Until we speak with Natalie, I am as in the dark as you, but”— he met the viscount’s gaze squarely—“I have suspicions, not based on anything solid, rather a gut feeling. Farley and Trident were hanging about the stable block when I bid your brother farewell. And Farley, in particular, appeared a tad smug for someone being turned off the property.”
Garrett paced to the fireplace and stared down at the diminishing flames. “I don’t know how he would have done it, or why, but I’d wager the estate he played some part in it. When we came across him the previous evening, he was not well disposed toward your sister.” Pounding his fist on the mantel, he added, “Nor myself. But this prank of his could have killed her!”
“Natalie has been unable to tell you herself?” Darlington’s brows lowered in concern. “She is not coherent when she wakes?”
Wretchedly, Garrett shook his head. “She is not.”
The viscount watched Garrett searchingly. “You have an affection for her. I thought so when you fished her out of the lake. You will give me your word that you did not take her intentionally? You have not done this to trap her into marriage?”
Garrett laughed at the irony. “You would accept my word? Honor from the son of a madman?” He found the demand intolerable. But it was what he expected. He steeled his gaze upon Natalie’s oldest brother. “I will do all in my ability toavoidmatrimony with your sister, Darlington. You have my word on that.” And, in a barely audible voice, he added, “I wouldn’t wish that upon my worst enemy.”
“So you do care for her.”
Garrett paced to the desk. He felt like a caged animal. “Of course I care for her.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. The memory of Natalie, limp and broken, trapped inside the trunk would haunt him forever. He hadn’t protected her when she’d needed him most.
“Your sister is not to be moved. The doctor has forbidden it until he is satisfied she is recovering properly. I will have a room prepared for you. Forgive the rudimentary accommodations, but you see, my beloved father burned the manor to smithereens a few weeks ago.” With that, he tugged at the bell pull to summon Mrs. Hampden. Hopefully there were enough clean linens to have another room readied. He’d not expected to entertain guests so soon, and one oughtn’t put a viscount on an uncovered mattress.
Unable to remain in Darlington’s company any longer, Garrett excused himself to seek out the housekeeper himself. Upon locating her, he requested a meal be served to the viscount while he waited for his room.
