If He's Noble (Wherlocke #7)

The silence was immediate and everyone turned to stare at him. He studied them all and then fixed his attention on Mrs. Jakes and Jenson who appeared to have had some confrontation recently. “What has happened? Were you attacked?”


“We were, sir,” said Jenson. “Augusta came here shortly after you left to help save Geoffrey. We tried to stop them but I was shoved along while Mrs. Jakes was grabbed by Mrs. Augusta and had a pistol shoved in her back. She and one of her men dragged us in there and she confronted Lady Primrose.”

“Her ladyship was very brave but no match for the man and he was a scurvy sort of fellow. She almost got free and ran for the other door. It leads into the garden, sir, and she was so close to escape but the man caught her and pulled her back inside,” said Mrs. Jakes.

“And they took her?”

“They did soon after that.”

“Did they say where they were taking her?”

“To the church.” Mrs. Jakes wrung her plump, work-worn hands. “That horrible little man has come after her and that woman means to give her to him.”

“The pastor would perform a marriage she so clearly does not want?”

“I suspect he would, Bened,” said Simeon, “if Augusta played her usual game. The man has a pretty little wife and a few children. Young ones. One born only a few months ago. And, if I might ask, what made you come back?”

“Because I intend to ask your sister to marry me. So, I suppose we better hurry and get her back so that she is not forced to marry anyone else.”

“Since I am now the baron, should you not be asking me my permission to ask for her hand?”

“I just did,” said Bened as he started back to the front of the house.

“No, you told me.” Simeon ignored Lilybet who was yanking on his coat sleeve. “Not the same thing at all.”

“I do not intend to marry you so why ask you. Just told you my intentions. Now I will see if she has any urge to say yes.”

“But . . .”

“Simeon,” snapped Lilybet. “How old is Primrose?”

“Oh, so just because she is on the shelf, I should accept this fellow’s arrogance?”

“On the shelf?” Bened shook his head. “Gentry. You are all mad. Lady Primrose is young, healthy, and pretty but because she is at a certain age she suddenly becomes on the shelf like some china bowl one has forgotten to dust?”

Simeon glared at Bened’s back as the man swung up into his saddle. He quickly mounted his horse as the others did theirs. Without another word they all headed for the small stone church at the far edge of the town.

Just out of sight of the church, Bened signaled everyone to tether their horses and approach the building as quietly as possible. His heart was tight with concern for Primrose. She had fled her home to get away from this man and yet Augusta had found a way to get her to the altar. With Bevan’s assistance he quickly silenced two men guarding the doors to the church. Quietly he and the others began to slip inside. Seeing Primrose being held in front of the altar by a tall, thin, yet obviously strong man, Bened frowned, aching to make the man pay dearly for handling her so roughly.

Then he had a good look at the man Augusta wanted Primrose to marry and shuddered. The man was short, spindly, covered in age spots and, if he guessed the reason for the beauty spots stuck on his sunken cheeks, sores caused by the end time of the pox. Augusta had chosen a particularly nasty way to make sure her niece died. And because of the banishment from society the man had suffered, there would be no finding someone to help her after she became Sir Edgar’s wife. She would also find herself utterly ostracized.

Bened and the others were just creeping down the aisle when the man punched Primrose right on the side of the head. She was just falling to the floor when someone shot the man but Bened paid no heed to that. He went straight to her side. In his opinion, whoever had shot Sir Edgar, that someone had been doing the world a service, as well as saving Sir Edgar the pain of dying of a particularly nasty disease.

Lilybet beat Bened to Primrose’s prone body by a heartbeat. She checked over her friend, then fought to hide the startling knowledge that came to her. Lilybet met Primrose’s gaze and knew her friend was aware of her condition but was keeping it silent so she just nodded. A glance at the dead man sprawled far too close to Primrose made Lilybet a little ill. She breathed a sigh of relief when the men hastily removed it.

Primrose groaned. She began to sit up but hands held her down. For a moment she struggled thinking it was her aunt’s men or Sir Edgar, a man she did not wish touching her no matter how injured and unsteady she might be. Then she saw that it was her friends and Simeon leaning over her.

As she let Lilybet help her sit up, she put her head in her hands in the vain hope of easing the ache there. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a movement. Augusta was trying to do something without being seen.