Runaway Miss. Mary Nichols

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      His lordship ordered a meal, but Emma was almost too tired to eat. Travelling by public coach was very different from going in their own carriage and taking their time about it, very different from going post chaise, though they hadn’t done that since her father died. She suspected her stepfather was not nearly as wealthy as he liked people to believe. And he could not touch her inheritance. Of course! That was it, that was why he was insisting on her marrying Lord Bentwater. They had done a deal over her fortune. How hard would they try to find her? If they caught up with her before she reached Mrs Summers, what would her present escort do? Hand her over, or help her? She was too tired to worry about it, too tired to take part in the conversation.

      ‘Miss Draper, I am keeping you from your bed.’

      ‘What? Oh, I am sorry, my lord. What were you saying?’

      ‘It is of no consequence. Come, I’ll escort you to your room. You need to sleep and we have an early start in the morning.’

      She did not argue, but stood up and followed him from the room, Rose bringing up the rear. At the door of the room she turned to thank him, but he brushed her thanks aside. ‘Glad to be of service,’ he said. ‘I am just along the passage. If you need anything, send Miss Turner to wake me. I’ll be with you in an instant.’ He bowed and strode away.

      The two girls entered the room and shut the door. The bed linen had been changed and there was fresh water in the ewer and the layer of dust she had noticed earlier had gone. Her bag and Rose’s bundle were on a chest below the window.

      Emma sank on to the bed, while Rose unpacked their night things. ‘What do you make of him, Rose?’

      ‘I don’t know, my lady. In my book, men don’t do favours for nothing and we’ve landed ourselves very much in his debt. What is he going to ask in return?’

      ‘Perhaps he doesn’t want anything. Perhaps he is simply a knight errant.’

      Rose’s reply was a sniff of disbelief.

      ‘Do you think he believes our story?’

      ‘Does it matter what he believes?’ She crossed the room with Emma’s nightgown and laid it on the bed.

      Emma began unbuttoning her dress. ‘I found myself wondering what he would do if Sir George were to catch up with us before we reached our destination. Should I tell him the truth and throw myself on his mercy?’

      ‘No, my lady. You don’t know anything about him. He might take advantage. Just think, he is a soldier, used to soldier’s ways…’

      ‘But I’m sure he’s an officer and a gentleman.’

      ‘You only have his word for that. Does a gentleman travel with his servant and sit at the same table?’

      ‘I am travelling with you in the same manner.’

      ‘That’s different.’

      ‘How different?’

      ‘You are not pretending to be a titled lady. Take my word for it, he thinks you are a gentlewoman fallen on hard times and as such ripe for a little sport.’

      ‘Rose, I refuse to believe that.’

      Rose shrugged and helped Emma out of her clothes and slipped her nightdress over her head. ‘Why did he suggest sending me to fetch him in the middle of the night, then?’

      She hadn’t thought of that. ‘Oh, Rose, I would never have taken that as an invitation. How glad I am that you came with me.’

      She went over to the door and turned the key in the lock and then dragged a chair against it for good measure. There was only one bed and they got into it together. Two minutes later they were both asleep.

      

      Alex prepared for bed in a thoughtful mood. The more he saw of Miss Fanny Draper, the more he was convinced she was not what she seemed. She had started out being prickly as a hedgehog, determined to be independent, but that had lasted only until they reached the Peahen in St Albans. Who was she? Was she, as Joe insisted, a runaway? He had no idea how old she was, but she was not a schoolgirl, so what was she running from? A husband? He hadn’t seen a wedding band. The law? If so, what had she done? Was she simply an intrepid traveller, telling the truth, or a clever trickster, manipulating him into feeling sorry for her in order to part him from his money? If that turned out to be the case, she would find he was not such easy game as she imagined. It was a pity because she was too lovely to be a criminal and when she looked at him with those huge violet eyes, he found himself softening. Damn the woman! He thought he knew women in all their changing moods, had met enough of them in his time, but this one had him foxed.

      Chapter Three

      Emma woke when she heard someone rattling the door knob. She sat up, thankful that she had been warned by Rose and locked the door. She shook her sleeping maid. ‘Rose, there’s someone outside the door.’

      Rose stirred and yawned and then, realising where she was, jumped out of bed, embarrassed to find herself in bed with her mistress, something that had not happened since Emma was small and needed comforting after a nightmare.

      ‘Miss Draper, Miss Turner, it is time to rise. The coach leaves in less than an hour.’ It was the innkeeper’s wife.

      Emma gave a sigh of relief and scrambled from the bed where she had been sitting with her knees up and the covers drawn right up to her chin. ‘We will be down directly.’

      They washed and dressed, packed their few things and went down to breakfast. Another day of travelling had begun. But before they left they had to pay for a night’s board and lodging. It cost them fourteen shillings each and this time there was no Lord Malvers to offer to pay. Not that she would have allowed it if he had. She was already too beholden to him for her own peace of mind, especially after Rose’s warning the night before.

      ‘Do you think he has overslept or gone on a different coach?’ Emma asked Rose when he did not put in an appearance at the breakfast table.

      Rose shrugged. ‘Does it matter?’

      ‘Not at all. I am sure we can manage perfectly well without him.’ But she found herself looking for him as they walked out to the coach, already being loaded. It was not the coach they had arrived in; that had gone on the night before with those passengers who preferred reaching their destination to sleeping in a strange bed. This one had left London the morning before. She saw Viscount Malvers inspecting the horses and harness and talking to the coachman. Was he always that particular? she wondered.

      He doffed his hat when he saw them. ‘Good morning, Miss Draper, Miss Turner. It is a much finer day today and we should make good time.’ He took their baggage from them and handed it to Joe to put in the boot, then he held the door for them. ‘In you go, we’ll be off in two minutes.’

      Emma’s spirits rose at the sight of him. Rose was adequate as a travelling companion, but it was comforting to know there was a gentleman in the background ready and willing to smooth their journey. Rose had advised caution and she would be cautious but that did not mean she would disdain his assistance. ‘Good morning, my lord,’ she said, as he put his hand under her elbow to help her up. It was the second time he had done that and his СКАЧАТЬ