Название: The Viscount's Unconventional Bride
Автор: Mary Nichols
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Историческая литература
isbn: 9781408916278
isbn:
On they went, up and down hills, through woods, alongside fields of growing corn, past cows grazing in meadows, through tiny hamlets where women at their doors stopped to stare as they passed and children, playing in the road scampered to one side. Through Ware they went, then Wadesmill and Puckeridge to Buntingford, where they stopped at the George and Dragon for a whole hour instead of the two or three minutes allowed for a change of horses. Jonathan and his man followed them in, much to the delight of Betty, who was convinced Joe had taken a shine to her.
‘Mr Linton, it is strange, is it not, that we keep bumping into each other?’ Louise ventured. ‘Are you following us?’
‘Not strange at all, Mr Smith,’ Jonathan said. ‘This is the Great North Road; in truth, it is the only road worthy of the name going north from London and even then it is very bad in parts. It seems reasonable to assume that anyone beginning a journey at about the same time, will arrive at stopping places on route at about the same time. That is why the coaching inns are where they are.’ He ignored her question that he might be following them. ‘I am about to leave, but I have no doubt somewhere along the way we shall meet again. I shall look forward to it.’ He swept her a bow. ‘Your obedient, sir.’ And with that he strode out to the yard and climbed into his carriage, now sporting a fresh set of horses. Joe was on the driving seat.
Louise watched it go, half-relieved, halfdisappointed. Was he right, would they see him on the road again? In spite of herself she liked him; she liked his good looks, his captivating smile, his teasing good humour. Above all she liked to know he was close at hand in case they had any more frightening adventures and especially now when she was forced into the company of Burrows and Williams.
They heard the passengers being called to the coach and left the remains of their dinner and went out to it. It was becoming a familiar routine, this bumping along and then stopping to change horses and then bumping along again, sometimes at a canter, sometimes no more than a walk, but whatever speed they went, it made her whole body ache.
They passed through Huntingdon, a quaint little town with narrow twisting streets, once the home of Oliver Cromwell and Samuel Pepys, so she was informed by Burrows, who was the more talkative of the two men. Somewhere they must have passed Mr Linton without knowing it, because soon afterwards he was behind them again.
‘What is the man about?’ Williams demanded. ‘He comes and he goes. It is almost as if he were following us.’
‘I asked him that,’ Louise told him. ‘His answer was that if two coaches set out at the same time to go to the same place, they are bound to come across each other from time to time.’
‘That might be true if they were equal in weight and horseflesh, but that vehicle is lighter than this, carries only two passengers and is pulled by four of the finest cattle I have seen for an age. He must be very high in the instep to be able to command the best the posting inn can procure. He could outrun us easily if he had a mind to.’ All of which, Louise realised, was true.
‘He’s keeping an eye on his money,’ Burrows said with a laugh, nodding towards Louise. ‘Wants the chance to win it back.’
‘He is only watching out for us,’ Betty said, relieving Louise of the need to comment. ‘We were held up afore and he’s making sure it don’ happen again.’
‘When were you held up?’ Burrows asked.
‘Yesterday. Two vicious-looking men with pistols tried to rob us. Mr Linton shot the gun out o’ the hand of one o’ them, cool as you like. Then he tied ‘em up and took ‘em to the beak.’
‘Why would he do that?’
‘What else was he to do with them? Couldn’ leave ‘em there, could he?’
‘No, I meant why take it into his head to keep pace with this coach?’
‘I dunno, do I? Mayhap he’s one o’ them thieftakers. I reckon he’s done that sort of thing afore.’
‘Do you think so?’ Louise queried. It seemed the most logical conclusion and she wondered why she had not thought of it herself.
‘Yes, an’ glad I am he’s there,’ Betty said.
From Huntingdon they progressed to Stilton, a hilly village which had given its name to a cheese, where they stopped at the Bell only long enough to change the horses and see to their comfort and that enabled Mr Linton to pass them again. They approached Stamford through woods that made Louise wonder if that might be a place to expect more highwaymen, but they continued without incident and found themselves in a beautiful town rising from the banks of a slow-moving river. It had narrow streets, grey limestone buildings and a proliferation of churches. They stopped at the George for the night.
Louise had hardly left the coach and stretched her cramped limbs than the Linton carriage hove into view and pulled up in the yard. Mr Linton, as cheerful as ever, jumped down and greeted them with a sweeping bow before accompanying them into the inn. It really did seem as if they were stuck with him.
‘Mr Linton, are there no other inns in this town?’ Louise asked.
‘Oh, very many, but I like this one,’ he said, smiling broadly. ‘The company is so congenial.’
Chapter Three
The inn was an extremely busy one and Louise wondered if she and Betty would be able to obtain a room to themselves, but while she was trying to persuade the innkeeper to find one for her, Jonathan stepped in and offered his room, which a few sovereigns had already procured. ‘I will take whatever mine host can find for me,’ he told her. ‘I can sleep anywhere.’
She hesitated—she did not like being beholden to this man. It was not just pride, but the feeling that before long he would penetrate her disguise and know her for what she was and then he would have his fun with her and everyone would know she was a female and she would look foolish and vulnerable. She did not want that, but on the other hand, sharing a room with men was something she most certainly could not do. ‘Thank you, sir,’ she said. ‘I would not mind for myself, but my wife is nervous of being alone, you see…’ She looked at Betty, who was once again chattering to Joe and not looking at all nervous.
‘I understand.’ he said, assuming the young man was jealous and not inclined to let his wife out of his sight. If she really was his wife. ‘You are welcome.’
Louise and Betty were conducted upstairs to a spacious room that looked out on to the busy yard. Water was brought for them to wash. Louise stripped off and sponged herself down, but the clothes had to be put on again. The only others she had were feminine garments. She smiled suddenly, wondering what Mr Linton would say if he could see the contents of her bag. It might be fun to change and appear as Miss Louise Vail. She imagined him staring at her in disbelief and then smiling and kissing her hand and saying he liked her much better as a woman. She suddenly became cross with herself for thinking like that. It was pure fantasy and she was doing herself no favours indulging in it.
They went down to the dining room СКАЧАТЬ