Runaway Miss. Mary Nichols

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СКАЧАТЬ resisted the impulse and met his gaze unflinchingly. She curtsied. ‘My lord.’

      He offered his hand. ‘Shall we dance, my lady?’

      She accompanied him on to the floor where they joined an eightsome. The steps were intricate and they were never close enough to permit a conversation, but she was aware as she moved up and down, across and sideways, that he was looking at her all the time, even when he was executing steps with another of the ladies. How uncomfortable he made her feel! At the end of the dance, she curtsied and he bowed and offered his arm to promenade.

      ‘My lady, you must learn to unbend,’ he said in a low voice. ‘You are as stiff as a corpse and I would not like to think you are unhappy in my company.’

      ‘My lord, I am neither happy nor unhappy and as the dance has ended, you do not have to endure my company any longer.’

      ‘There, my dear, you are wrong. It is my earnest wish that we shall be often in each other’s company in future. Every day. Has your papa not told you of my intent?’

      ‘My father, my lord, is dead. And if you refer to my mother’s husband, then, no, he has not.’

      ‘No doubt he left it for me to do so after we had spoken together.’ When she did not reply, he went on with an oily smile. ‘You are a haughty one, to be sure, but that can be made a virtue, so long as your haughtiness is aimed at those beneath you and not your husband…’

      ‘My lord, I have no husband.’

      ‘Not yet. But the deficiency may soon be rectified. The details have yet to be settled with Sir George, but I think you understand me.’

      ‘You are offering for me?’

      ‘Yes. The offer has been made and accepted.’

      ‘Not by me, it has not.’

      ‘That is by the by. First things first. I have received the proper permission from your guardian to approach you and I shall call on you tomorrow when we will tie the thing up nice and tight.’

      She stopped and turned to face him, drawing herself up and taking a deep breath. ‘Lord Bentwater, I am aware of the honour you do me, but I must decline. We should not suit.’

      He threw back his head and laughed so that one or two people close by stopped their chattering to turn towards them. ‘You suit me very well and it suits Sir George to give you to me…’

      ‘Give me?’ She was shaking with nerves and seething with anger. How could he assume she would meekly give in? He was a dreadful man. He was older than her stepfather, he had small currant eyes and bad teeth, and his manner was arrogant and self-satisfied. The very idea of being married to him repelled her. ‘Why does it suit Sir George?’

      He drew his lips back over his yellow teeth in a mockery of a smile. ‘Let us say that he has his reasons for wishing to accommodate me.’

      Emma realised he had a hold over Sir George and she guessed it was something to do with money. She was being sold! ‘My mother will never sanction such a thing.’

      ‘Lady Tasker will obey her husband as every good wife does. Now, my dear…’ Again that awful smile. ‘Let us not quarrel. I shall not be a bad husband, not if you please me…’

      ‘But you do not please me, Lord Bentwater. I bid you good evening.’ She broke away from him and went to sit beside her mother. ‘Mama, you wanted to know which of the gentlemen was Lord Bentwater and now I can point him out. He is that black spider over there, laughing with Sir George, no doubt over me. He tells me he has bought me—’

      ‘Bought you, child?’

      ‘Yes, bought me. I do not know what he has given, or promised to give, your husband for me, but I tell you now, nothing on earth will persuade me to take that rude, arrogant scarecrow for a husband.’

      ‘Oh, Emma,’ her mother said with a heavy sigh. ‘There will be the most dreadful trouble, if you do not.’

      ‘Why? What has Sir George said to you?’

      ‘He says he cannot afford to cross Lord Bentwater, that the man has it in his power to ruin us, though George will not tell me how or why. All he says—and he says it over and over again—is that without this match we will live in penury, his reputation will be ruined and we won’t be able to lift our heads in society again. I think it must be a gambling debt, I can think of nothing else.’

      ‘Mama, surely it cannot be your wish that I marry that man?’

      ‘No, of course not. I have argued until I am spent, but George is adamant.’ Lady Tasker sighed heavily. ‘If only your papa were alive…’

      ‘You would not be married to Sir George Tasker, would you?’ Emma said with unanswerable logic. ‘Why did you marry him, Mama?’

      ‘I was lonely and in all my life I have never had to manage alone. My father, the late Duke, looked after me and my affairs until he handed me over to your father when I was seventeen and he carried on as my father had done. I never had to think of anything for myself and, when your papa died, I had no idea how to go on. Sir George was charming and understanding. Even now, when he is in a good mood…’ She stopped and gazed across the room where her husband was enjoying a jest with Lord Bentwater. ‘I dare not cross him.’

      Emma gave up the conversation, knowing she would get nowhere with it. And now she was torn in two because it was obvious that if she was adamant in her refusal to marry Bentwater, her mother would suffer for it. Sir George would not beat his wife, he had too much pride for that, but there were other ways of punishing her: subtle verbal cruelty, forbidding her to receive her friends or call on them, taking away her pin money so that she could go nowhere, buy nothing, without petitioning him first. It had happened before when her mother displeased him and Emma loved her mother dearly and could not bear to think of her suffering in that way. ‘Mama, if you say I must, I must, but I shall do it with a heavy heart and I promise you I shall not be an obedient wife.’

      ‘Perhaps it will not come to that,’ her mother said hopefully. ‘George might relent.’

      The music resumed and another partner came to claim Emma and she was not called upon to answer. She went off and danced with the young man, a fixed smile on her face. She even managed to make one or two witty comments about the music and the company, but inside her heart was heavy as lead. If only she could find a way out without hurting her mother. If only she could find her own husband, she could tell the odious Lord Bentwater she was already promised. She smiled a little at her own foolishness. If she hadn’t found one in the two years since her come-out, she was unlikely to find one now.

      She was about to return to her mother when she saw Sir George returning to her with Lord Bentwater in tow. She turned about and went to the retiring room, where she sat on the stool before the mirror and looked at herself, as if she could find the answer to her problems in her reflection. ‘You are on your own,’ she told the strained face that stared out at her. ‘You cannot depend upon your mama to support you and Sir George is quite capable of dragging you to the altar. And who can you confide in? Not your mother, for she is too afraid of her husband. Not Rose, who is anxious about her own mother and leaving you in any case. There is Harriet, but Harriet is thinking about nothing but her wedding and who can blame her? There is no one.’

      Sighing heavily, she returned to the ballroom and put on СКАЧАТЬ