Page 7 of The Scarred Duchess
Bennet looked back over his shoulder briefly. The earl, the general, and their carriage were gone.
“And you are?” he asked.
Another smile, this time with teeth. Bennet could not prevent his own, so he joined him. Both chuckled.
“Minding the earl.”
“So, I have inadvertently inserted myself into his lordship’s protective service?”
“Yes and no.”
“Something tells me there is more to that story.” Bennet did not expect to be told more and he was not surprised.
Roark shook his head. “I cannot say more.”
“Very well.” He walked away, turning the corner of the nearest building. He stopped and peered around it.
Roark raised his arm and whistled loudly. A half-dozen more men appeared out of the shadows and joined him.
Interesting indeed.
A week later, Bennet presented himself at Matlock’s house in town. The earl and his elegant young wife rose to greet him as he was announced. “My dear,” said his lordship, “allow me topresent Major Thomas Bennet of the King’s Royal Horse Guards.”
Lord Matlock gestured towards a nearby chair. Bennet waited for the countess to retake her seat, then followed. Lady Matlock moved the conversation forward as she enquired of the mundane. Bennet replied politely as the earl listened quietly. When servants entered with a hearty repast, the questions turned more personal.
“You hail from Hertfordshire?” Lady Matlock asked.
“My family’s estate is close to Meryton. Longbourn has been in the Bennet family for a century.”
“Have you brothers or sisters?”
“I do, your ladyship. An older brother, Benedict Bennet, the heir of Longbourn.”
“And you? Were you expected to enlist or did you consider the clergy?” asked Lord Matlock.
“I first read at Oxford. I joined the Regulars afterwards.” He neatly avoided the question of his desired future path; it had been chosen for him by his brother, but he reckoned he was better at fighting than sermonising anyhow, so the point was irrelevant.
Lord Matlock cleared his throat. “The countess and I owe you an immense debt, and would like to reward you for your bravery. I would like General Foote to join me in speaking with the King.”
“Many heroes from the regiments and other services have sworn to protect the crown. I am no special case.” Bennet adjusted his posture. “I ask you to let sleeping dogs lie, as I prefer to remain anonymous. Allow me to go about my daily life. The War Office keeps me busy replaying my past exploits with the colonials, as you know.”
The countess placed her hand upon the earl’s forearm.He nodded. “Very well, Bennet. If this is what you wish, so be it.”
Lady Matlock smiled. “You may rely upon our discretion. One cannot have too many friends, can they?”
Bennet looked to Lord Matlock, who nodded. “I quite agree. Acquaintances are abundant; friends are few.” He raised his glass. “To our newest friend.”
“I am honoured, sir.”
Lady Matlock extended an invitation to dine, which Bennet accepted. The evening marked the beginning of an enduring connexion.
Two days later, Matlock met with Roark. He appreciated the ruffian who had become his security overseer. The man was competent, concise, and ruthless. His ability to speak as an educated son of the gentry one moment and then revert to his Seven Dials roots made him a crafty weapon. It did not hurt that his appearance alone dispelled most potential contretemps. When he eschewed his eyepatch, his visage by itself was lethal.
“Your assessment of Major Bennet?”
“A smart man who knows to respect secrecy,” Roark replied.
“What impels you to offer such an opinion?”
