Page 49 of To Hunt the Hunter

“Unlike you,” Matilda replied sweetly. “I doubt you’ve ever spoken an honest word to him in your life.”

The old woman was silent for a long moment. “I cannot believe it,” she said, and her voice was cracked with emotion, her face screwed up with pain. “Not Theodore, he… he wouldn’t. He could not….”

“Yes, he could,” Matilda said, infusing her voice with all the icy contempt she felt for such an outrageous statement.

She was aware of the old woman’s anguish, but felt no empathy, not now, not knowing how many years Lucian had suffered as a child when no one believed in him. Perhaps Marguerite had not been complicit, but she’d been wilfully blind to the truth and had not troubled herself to investigate further. Matilda could feel no sympathy for her now, knowing how methodically Thomas had been destroyed in order to hurt Lucian as deeply as it was possible to be hurt.

“He could and he did, and he is still doing it. For once in your life, I suggest you choose whose side you are on, because I tell you now, if you mean Lucian harm, you have made an enemy of me, and I shall not rest until I know he is safe from all of you.”

Marguerite studied her, eyes narrowed. “It’s a pity you’re so tainted. You’d have made a fine marchioness.”

“What are you going to do about Theodore Barrington?” Matilda demanded, ignoring that observation.

“Do?” Marguerite echoed. “What do you imagine I can do?”

Matilda held onto her temper by a thread. “Lucian says you wield a great deal of influence. If you tell your cronies it is he who has run mad, that all that comes out of his mouth is a lie, you might go some way to restoring Lucian’s reputation.”

“More scandal.” Marguerite’s face screwed up in disgust.

“You cannot escape that now,” Matilda snapped, wanting to ring the horrid woman’s scrawny neck for her lack of compassion.

This woman didn’t give a damn for Lucian’s happiness. All she cared about was the bloody title and its pristine reputation. Had the entire family felt this way?

“Your only choice is who the scandal falls upon. Do you wish to sacrifice Lucian or Theodore? Choose. But know this: if you choose to save Theodore Barrington you are condemning Lucian. If Theodore succeeds, you can kiss goodbye to the continuation of the Montagu line. He’s an old man, too old to sire healthy sons. You just think on that.”

She was thinking on it, Matilda could tell, and she knew too that it was the only argument that could hold any real power over a woman like this. She had met such creatures before, ones whose pride in their own bloodline and superiority over other people was their only source of contentment. How foolish. Matilda wondered how much comfort that knowledge would give the old woman when she died alone, with no one to mourn her. Matilda would rather have her children and grandchildren about her, knowing that they would grieve her passing and keep her memory alive in their hearts, than any grand title. With a sharp stab of fear, she realised she was about to turn her back on that possibility herself, but she could not think of that now.

“I will make arrangements for a ball,” Marguerite said at length, and Matilda supposed that was all the answer she would get. “Lucian must announce his betrothal as soon as is possible. I shall arrange it for the nineteenth of the month. Two weeks is little enough time to arrange such a lavish affair as it must be, but once everyone knows the object of the event, there will be no refusals.”

The old woman looked smug and vindictive, and Matilda steeled her heart against the realisation that two weeks was all she had. She did not doubt that this woman would make the announcement for him if Lucian failed to do so, and damn the consequences.

“I think you should go now,” Matilda said, holding onto her composure by a thread. “You’ll find the accommodation at The White Hart quite adequate.”

Marguerite turned glinting grey eyes upon her. “You dare to throw me out of the house, you arrogant chit?”

“I do.” Matilda levelled her gaze at the woman.

She was remarkably unmoved by her and her spiteful comments. She hated her so deeply for all the harm she’d done to Lucian and his brother that it was impossible to fear her, or care for the insults she tossed out with such ease. Besides, Matilda had heard it all before.

“You’d be surprised what I’d dare,” she said, a hard smile upon her lips. “For example, I dare to tell you that I shall do all in my power to destroy you if you don’t do everything you can to protect Lucian. You’ve failed him his entire life. Fail him again, and I will make sure you suffer for it. There are benefits to having lost your reputation—there is nothing left to fear, you see—and I have powerful friends. You ought to remember that.”

Matilda stood and strode to the door, pausing to give Lady Astley one last look of contempt.

“I’ll have Denton see you out,” she said, as coolly as if she were Lucian’s marchioness, knowing how deeply it would stick in Mouldy Marguerite’s throat. “Do not hurry back. You are no longer welcome at Dern.”

With that, she swept out, feeling a deep surge of satisfaction at her last look upon Marguerite’s grim-faced fury, which she had the pleasure of closing the door on.

Chapter 14

We are going on an adventure! I feel like we are on our way to slay a dragon and I know that we will prevail. We must. And like all the best stories, there must be a happy ending. Except that is the bit that worries me most. How do I make that happen? I know if I leave them to their own devices, my uncle and Matilda will do as the stupid rules tell them they ought to, even though it will make everyone miserable. Somehow, I must make them brave enough to break all the rules.

Every last one.

I would if I were them.

―Excerpt of an entry by Miss Phoebe Barrington to her diary.

6th May 1815. Dern, Sevenoaks, Kent.