Page 1 of To Hunt the Hunter

Chapter 1

Dear Miss Hunt,

I wish you were here with us. Everything is strange. Uncle won’t let me out of his sight. I got cross yesterday because he won’t tell me anything and I punished him by hiding. By the time he found me, I regretted it very much. He was so frantic he looked like he might be ill. I don’t know why we left London so quickly or why uncle is so quiet and worried.

I know I must not ask you to come. Uncle forbade me to do so. He says that you may not be friends with him anymore and that if people thought you liked him, they would be cruel to you and no one would talk to you. I don’t understand why that is or why there are such stupid rules. I hate all these rules and the people who make us obey them. When I’m a grown-up, I shan’t obey the rules if I don’t agree with them and I don’t care what anyone says about me for doing it.

I wanted to tell you that we are both your friends still, no matter what stupid people say, even if we can’t see you anymore.

I miss you.

―Excerpt of a letter from Miss Phoebe Barrington to Miss Matilda Hunt.

24th April 1815. Beverwyck, London.

Matilda watched with mixed emotions as Helena made her escape with her new husband. The two of them were so obviously desperate to be alone with each other she could not help but smile, yet that was the last of her little chicks married off and settled. As Bonnie had so helpfully pointed out, that only left her. It hadn’t been said with any malice; indeed, Bonnie was being kind, wanting desperately to see Matilda as happily settled as the rest of them.

Somehow, that did not make her feel any better.

Besides, she had more important things to worry about than playing along with the idea she was looking for a husband. She had given up pretending there was the slightest chance of her falling in love with someone else, not when Lucian occupied her every waking moment. Perhaps one day, she would feel able to face the prospect, likely when she was too old to be of interest to anyone… but for now she could not deny what her heart was telling her. Lucian was in trouble, though of what variety she did not understand. Phoebe was afraid for him. They both needed her and, if there was something that Matilda wanted above all else, it was to be needed.

It was remarkably easy to slip away from the gathering unnoticed, and by the time she returned home she was relieved to discover that her packing was done, as she’d requested. She changed quickly as her bags were being secured on the carriage and went down the stairs to find her companion, Mrs Bradford, awaiting her, stony faced. Matilda braced herself, ready for what was to come.

“It won’t do, Miss Hunt. I know as well as anyone that you’re a good girl, and all those wicked rumours were nothing but hot air, but this… this is madness, and you know it.”

“Yes,” Matilda said, smiling at the woman. She was a stocky, no nonsense sort, and exactly the kind of chaperone she had sought for herself—that being one who was not overly concerned with the duties of chaperoning if she had a glass of champagne and a companion to chat with. “Mrs Bradford, I know you are quite correct, and I am sorry if my decision is causing you any distress.”

“Well, it is, Miss Hunt. You have my promise that I shan’t breathe a word of your folly, but be a part of it I won’t, and that’s an end to it.”

Matilda nodded, feeling a little relieved if the truth was told. If she must burn her bridges, she’d rather not have an audience for it. Not that she was going out of her way to ruin herself—if all went well, no one would be any the wiser—but still, it was madness, there was no getting away from it.

“It’s quite all right, Mrs Bradford. Will you go to your sister’s, then?”

“I will, and providing you’ve got a reputation to protect when all’s said and done, you may find me there on your return.”

“Thank you.” Matilda’s reply was warm. She knew it was all she could ask for. “And thank you for your discretion. I do appreciate it.”

“Ah, well,” Mrs Bradford said. “The world is a cruel place for a young woman sometimes, and I know you’ve a kind heart—too kind, that’s the trouble—but you must do as you see fit. Good afternoon to you, Miss Hunt. I wish you well and Godspeed.”

Matilda watched as the woman left, and then turned at the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

“Well, good riddance, I say.”

Matilda smiled at her maid.

“Oh, Sarah, I can hardly blame the poor woman. I rather feel I have lost my mind, but… well, my heart won’t let me rest until I know what is going on.”

“I reckon you and Montagu have got unfinished business and that’s the truth,” Sarah said. “And it’s what women do, isn’t it? Follow their hearts, even when it leads them into danger. I’ll be beside you though, miss, no matter what. You’ve my promise on that.”

Matilda blinked back tears, touched by Sarah’s words. She was a sweet, good-hearted girl, and had always staunchly defended any decision Matilda made, never mind how idiotic. She suspected that Sarah was far too romantic and perhaps just a little ambitious, though, hoping underneath it all to one day be lady’s maid to a marchioness. Well, there was no hope of that, and Matilda had told her so, but she was not convinced her words had hit home.

“Well, then, we’d best be off, or we won’t be there before dark. Are you ready, dear?”

“Ready for anything, I am,” Sarah said with a grin. “I’ll just go and check all your bags have been packed properly, and I’ll be with you.”

Matilda nodded. She went and settled herself in the carriage. While she waited, she took out the letter Phoebe had sent her and read it for the fiftieth time.

“I’m coming, Phoebe,” she said softly, before folding the letter and putting it away once more. “I’m coming.”