Intrigue (eBook)

Chapter 1

The Wedding That Wasn’t

He appreciated his surroundings. The magnificent church was a feast for the eyes; steeped in history, and redolent with incense. The morning sun shone through exquisite stained-glass windows; Corinthian columns outlined the side ones, repeated by the larger columns supporting the huge, barrel-vaulted ceiling. Enchanted by the splendor, Darrell found himself thinking about marriage as he waited for his cousin’s wedding to begin. His desire to marry Anne Delford ended in failure. Perhaps he had learned a bit about love since then.

A near-death in Dublin last year resulted in a change of how he looked at life. Being more introspective, he realized how selfishness ruled him for years. Now he wanted to be useful—wanted to serve his country. With the war still going on in Europe, there were many opportunities to make a difference. Perhaps after it was over, he might find someone to marry.

Weddings are usually the backbone of a family, thought Darrell.

He listened to the vicar’s sonorous words of the wedding ceremony, “If any of you know just cause or impediment why these persons should not be joined together in Holy Matrimony, come forward now.”

As usual, a pregnant pause gave everyone the opportunity to respond. Silence held them spellbound until the huge doors opened with great violence and a man ran in, shouting, “Stop the wedding!”

The soldier ran up the aisle much distressed; blond hair disheveled, eyes wild with anguish. “This bride is betrothed to me!”

“That is not true!” shouted the startled bridegroom.

The vicar, overwhelmed by this unnatural scene, saw the man come face-to-face with the groom; anger radiating from him.

“You stole her from me while I was away fighting a war, you scoundrel,” he spat out; hands clenched at his sides.

“That’s not so, Miss Beckworthy accepted my proposal!”

Lord Hector Beckworthy rose to his feet from the front row, but before he could speak, fists began to fly. Tall and slim, Humphrey Beales did not compare favorably to this soldier with his muscular physique. In a moment, it appeared he was getting the worst of the fight. Deciding it should be stopped, Darrell stepped between the angry men, receiving blows before he separated the fighters by grasping each by the shoulder.

“That’s enough, gentlemen. This is not the place for your quarrel.”

The groom glowered at Darrell, as though he wanted to punch him too, blood running down his face. Lord Beckworthy approached to protect his daughter as she stood back from the fray, staring in shock.

“This discussion will move to the chapel,” he said as he motioned them to follow him. The congregation sat silently until the combatants left the nave, then murmurs and exclamations arose. The mother of the bride sank into tears of humiliation.

When the group removed, he was unsure whether he should go, but hoped his uncle could handle the fracas. Concerned for Bernice, he wondered what this was about, since it seemed most unusual.

Vicar Lambert came back to the nave. “The gentlemen wish for your presence, Mr. Coletrane, come with me please.”

As he entered the room, he perceived three angry men and a sobbing bride.

Lord Beckworthy spoke first. “Well, nephew, as usual you acted without thinking. How could you cause embarrassment to Humphrey?”

Surprise gleamed in Darrell’s eyes, but he kept his composure.

“An intervention appeared to be the best course to quell such a public display of emotion, sir.”

Still holding his handkerchief to his bleeding nose, the groom glared at him.

“Thank you, but I can handle myself. Now it appears otherwise after your arrogant interference. Name your seconds, Mr. Coletrane.”

The expressive right eyebrow rose as he held Humphrey’s angry gaze.

“No! My cousin only tried to help,” said Bernice, turning to her father.

This change of events made his lordship realize the subject of the quarrel was being overshadowed by the proposed duel; the fact that the wedding was interrupted was more urgent.

“This is not the time or place for this. The issue is the conflicting claims for my daughter’s hand. The whole family can feel humiliation after this unfortunate scene.”

He looked at the two young men as he spoke; “Now, Mr.?? By god, I don’t even know your name!”

“My name is Captain Mark Littleton, at your service, sir.”

“Well, I want to know the substance of your claim. Mr. Beales, you will refrain from interruption.”

All eyes turned to the soldier, whose face revealed righteous indignation at the manner of this request, but he knew he must bare his soul to have any hope of keeping his beloved.

“Your Lordship, I courted your daughter during her come-out Season.”

The would-be bride was overcome; head bowed in shame.

“When I received my orders to return to Spain, we entered an understanding that she would wait for me, then we would marry—with your permission, my Lord.”

Pain and hope were revealed in his eyes. No encouragement could be seen from either his lordship or Miss Beckworthy, and Humphrey glared again but kept quiet as ordered.

Growing uncomfortable, Darrell felt like a voyeur in this intimate confrontation. Clearing his throat, he said, “I fear I am de trop, sir. This conversation would be better in private.”

“Yes, I will take my family home. These two gentlemen may call on me this evening. My daughter is too distraught to talk now.”

After bowing, Darrell turned briskly and walked out of the room. The guests lingered, probably waiting for news; but he could not presume to speak, so returned to his seat.

Soon, Beckworthy approached the vicar; who announced the postponement of the wedding; thanking everyone for coming. The family retired to the chapel.

When Sir Giles Coltrane greeted his son, he said, “What a to-do! Did you quell another bout of fisticuffs?”

Eyes holding a devilish gleam, he said, “No, Father, once was enough. The groom called me out!”

“For saving his skin? What is his claim?”

“Apparently, I humiliated him.”

“Saved him from a beating is my guess. Now, how is the problem of two grooms to be resolved?”

As he helped his father out to his coach, he said, “There is to be a meeting with Beckworthy this evening. I’m sorry for Bernice, she is overwhelmed; but will need to face the situation to decide which one she wants to marry.”

The wedding breakfast was cancelled, so Darrell took his father to White’s for luncheon, where they greeted several acquaintances. Over luncheon, their conversation came to Darrell’s position at the Home Office.

“How is Lord Carter treating you, son?”

“Since I am one of the newest, I get simple tasks, but he always treats me with the utmost civility when we meet; probably from his respect for you, sir.”

“Pleased to hear it; are you satisfied?”

Sitting for a moment before answering, he said, “Well, Father, I have not yet had a duty that was worthwhile—making appointments, running errands, glorified clerical work, I’d say.”

“It’s a beginning for you. Can’t start at the top, you know.”

Nodding his head, he hid his amusement. A sermon, by Jove!

As they started to leave, a greeting made him turn to see who had spoken.

“Chad!” Extending his hand, they shook with a strong grip.

“Haven’t seen you in ages.” A big smile showed his pleasure.

“This is my father, Sir Giles Coletrane. Father, this is Chad Peterman, a school fellow.”

When Chad saw that he was leaning heavily on his cane, he said, “Darrell, would you be available for dinner this evening?”

They made plans quickly before they left; Father was in pain, and he must get him home.

A hackney coach took him to Harley Street, since he seldom walked in the city anymore after the lesson he learned in Dublin. The landlady took him upstairs to Chad’s plain rooms, then the manservant received Darrell’s hat and cane, and took him to the parlor. Entering the room with a broad smile on his face, they soon began to reminisce over old times.

“Do you remember Dawson from Oxford? Saw him in Portugal last year, now a Colonel in the Hussars; military life suits him.”

“When were you there?”

“Been there on-and-off for several years.”

“Oh, I hadn’t heard that. What regiment are you with?”

Leaning forward, he said in a soft voice, “Special Services.” After giving a moment to take it in, he added, “I am attached to the Foreign Office, doing undercover work.”

As he revealed this, Darrell thought, why is he disclosing this to me?

“Takes all kinds of service to win a war,” said Darrell.

With a grin on his face, he said,...