Runaway Miss. Mary Nichols

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СКАЧАТЬ a half behind schedule. Alex opened the door and jumped down, turning to help Emma, who was endeavouring to retie the ribbons of her bonnet. ‘There might be time for something to eat and drink, before we go on,’ he said. ‘Though we must make haste. I’m told we are only to be allowed a quarter of an hour.’

      They had barely seen to their comfort and ordered tea and bread and butter, the only thing available in the limited time, when they were recalled to their seats. Alex, who had given in to her insistence that she pay for it, wrapped the uneaten food in a napkin and followed them out to the coach. As soon as they were on the way again, he produced the package and offered it to the girls.

      ‘How clever of you to think of that,’ Emma said, helping herself to a slice of bread and butter. ‘I never would.’

      ‘I learned in the army never to abandon food,’ he said, glad that her wariness of him had dissipated a little. ‘We never knew when our next meal would be. We often had to eat on the march.’

      ‘Surely, as an officer, you were not required to march? Were you not mounted?’

      ‘Some of the time, but I liked to march alongside my men. How could I ask them to walk until they were ready to drop if I did not do the same?’

      ‘I am sure they appreciated that.’

      ‘So they did, miss.’ This was said by his servant. ‘If the Major could keep going, so could we.’

      ‘It must be exciting, going to war,’ Emma said.

      ‘Exciting,’ Alex mused. ‘I suppose it was sometimes. Sometimes it was terrifying and often just plain boring.’

      ‘Boring?’

      ‘Between battles, when we were waiting for something to happen or when we were on a long march from one encounter with the enemy to the next.’

      ‘What did you do then?’

      He laughed. ‘Dreamed of home, wondering if those we had left behind were well. We planned our next strategy, cleaned our weapons, talked of armaments and supplies. Some of the men had their women and families with them and that made it easier for them. Those without families amused themselves in other ways: boxing matches, running races, hunting and fishing, playing cards.’

      ‘Gambling is an abomination, the ruin of so many lives.’

      ‘Certainly it can be so, but in moderation it can while away the hours.’

      ‘Oh, it can indeed do that, my lord. Hours and hours, whole days sometimes.’ She sounded so bitter, he looked sharply at her. Was that the reason she had fallen on hard times? Her own gambling or someone else’s?

      ‘You have experience of that?’

      ‘I…Never mind. Tell me about your men. Where are they now?’

      ‘Scattered to the winds. Some are buried where they fell, others are still serving, gone to America to put down the rebellion there, still more have come home to an England they hardly know. It would not be so bad if the country was grateful, if something was being done to alleviate their distress, but I see little evidence of it.’

      ‘What do you think should be done?’

      ‘Employment is what they need, Miss Draper, so they can look after their families and live in dignity.’

      ‘Is there no employment for them?’

      He looked sharply at her. She must have been leading a very sheltered life not to know that unemployment was one of the main issues of the day. And wasn’t she off to take a job herself? He’d lay odds she had never worked before. ‘Not enough,’ he said. ‘And those whose work is on the land are doubly to be pitied considering it has hardly stopped raining all year. There will be little enough grain this harvest time and a poor harvest means poor wages.’

      ‘Is it the same in the towns?’

      ‘Nearly as bad. The price of bread will soar. If nothing is done, I fear for the working man.’ Was she simply making conversation, getting him to talk, or did she really not know how things were? A gentlewoman driven to be a companion almost certainly would. It would have been part of the argument for taking up such a post.

      ‘And woman,’ Rose put in.

      He turned towards her. ‘Yes, indeed, Miss Turner. Do you have employment? Are you to be a companion too?’

      ‘No, my lord. I am going home to help my mother.’

      ‘Is your home in the Lakes?’

      ‘No my lord. It is in Chelmsford.’

      ‘Chelmsford—then what are you doing on a coach going to Manchester?’

      ‘Keeping Miss Draper company.’

      ‘And who will keep you company when you have to leave her?’

      ‘Oh, I shall not need company, my lord. I do not mind travelling alone.’

      That gave him food for thought and for a moment he lapsed into silence. If their stations were equal, why did one girl need company and the other not? The answer was, of course, that they were not equal in rank at all. Miss Draper, if that were really her name, was far superior. Was one maid to the other? Then why were they dressed alike? His curiosity deepened.

      Emma knew Rose had made a blunder. He was becoming inquisitive and there was a self-satisfied smirk on the face of his man. She did not know what to say to allay his suspicions. She really should not have allowed herself to become involved in conversation with him. What could she say to put him off? Perhaps it would be better not to say anything at all. She had been sitting forward but now, as they stopped for yet another change of horses, she leaned back in her seat and shut her eyes. Perhaps he would take the hint.

      Already they had been on the road for twelve hours and there were still many more miles to go before they reached Leicester where, she had been assured, they would be able to put up for the night. Perhaps they would part there; he might go on tonight without stopping or perhaps take a different coach in the morning. But thinking about that made her suddenly aware that she had been glad of his presence, of the way he had gallantly looked after them. He could command instant service at the inns and thought nothing of berating the horse-keeper on the standard of his horses; the very fact that he appeared to be escorting her made her feel more secure.

      

      The latest horses were fresh and the rain had stopped so they made up a little of the lost time. It was ten o’clock and she was dog-tired when the coach pulled into the yard of the Three Crowns in Leicester. Lord Malvers helped her out and took her elbow to guide her into the inn, leaving Joe and Rose to follow. In no time at all his lordship had arranged for a room for her and went with her to inspect it.

      ‘The bed linen is not clean,’ he told the innkeeper’s wife, who had personally shown them up to the room. ‘Change it at once. And replace the water in that ewer. It is covered in scum. We will dine downstairs while you see to it.’

      The woman bobbed a curtsy. ‘At once, my lord.’

      Having laid down his orders, he turned to Emma. ‘Come, Miss Draper.’

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