A Baron for Becky

Chapter twenty-one

That day, Hugh wrote to Aldridge. "Come immediately. Any way you can. As fast as you can. Becky is threatening to kill herself and I can't..." He crossed out the last eight words, and replaced them so the last sentence read, "Becky needs you."

He wrote several copies and addressed them to all the luxurious places the Marquis of Aldridge might be holed up for the winter, with a notation on the front saying they were urgent and should be sent on. Then, Hugh settled in to watch Becky even more closely, until her rescuer arrived to save her again.

Aldridge must have been closer than Hugh expected. Three days after he sent his letters, a train of elegant sleighs coasted up the drive. Carriages, really, but with skids rather than wheels, each pulled by a pair of sturdy horses. The children, taking advantage of a break in the weather to play in the snow, stopped in their tracks and watched.

From the study window, Hugh could see three of the ornately carved and painted sleighs turn away towards the stable yard, and the remaining two continue to the front steps. He was not surprised all five sported the Haverford crest.

He excused himself to Becky, who didn't look up from the fire she was examining so intently, and sent a maid to sit with her while he went down to greet his guest. He pasted on a smile. Hugh had sent for the arrogant, self-centred, wife-stealing son-of-a-bitch. And if Becky wanted to go with him, then that was the price Hugh would pay for Becky to be well again. Even if it meant losing Belle.

Smile. He needed to smile.

One carriage was disgorging an enormous number of retainers. How had they all fit? Sitting on one another's knees? Aldridge stood at the door of the other, handing down a lady. Surely even Aldridge wouldn't bring one of his paramours here!

Then the lady lifted her head. The face under the bonnet brought his smile out in truth.

He hurried down the steps to greet her. "Your Grace. I am so glad you have come."

Then Aldridge was there, right in his face. "Overton, you scum-sucking louse! What have you done to Becky? If you've hurt her, I'll..."

"Aldridge," said Her Grace, "please do not embarrass me, my love. Lord Overton will explain all to us shortly. Now, give Cousin Agatha your hand, dear. Lord Overton." She held out her own hand for Hugh to escort her up the steps, where the butler was standing with his mouth open.

"Will you come into the parlour to warm by the fire?" Hugh asked. He settled her in a chair, took the cape she handed him, and went to find out what had happened to Aldridge and the cousin.

The butler was still hovering in the hall. Hugh gave him a few terse, low-voiced instructions about chambers and refreshments. When Becky had proved to be so good at making his house a marvellously comfortable place to live, he had let his elderly housekeeper retire. He could do with her now. Even more, he could do with his wife back, and that was the truth.

Aldridge was outside on the steps, sitting on his folded greatcoat, talking to the girls while the cousin hovered anxiously.

"May I invite you in, ma'am?" Hugh asked her, but was interrupted by Sarah, who shouted, "Papa, Uncle Lord Aldridge says Mama and I may go with him if she wants, and I won't, Papa. I can stay, Papa! Say I can stay? You said I could stay with my sisters forever and ever, and Mama too." And she turned on Aldridge, fierce as a tiger cub, and shouted at him, stamping her foot. "You go away. You just go away, nasty, old Aldridge. Mama is sick, but when she is better, we shall be all happy again, like we were before. You just go away."

Hugh reached her as she burst into tears, hissing at Aldridge as he passed, "I should break your neck." Then he was occupied with soothing all of the little girls, since the other three were weeping in sympathy, and the governess was doing nothing, torn between correcting her charge's manners and attacking the invading home-breaker on her own account.