Compromising Miss Milton. Michelle Styles

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      ‘Here, you’ll kill him. They never said nothing about killing. That’s murder, like!’ Hawkins squawked.

      ‘It’s a dirty business. You knew that.’

      ‘It is not here,’ a voice called out

      ‘Search the carriage again!’

      ‘What about him?’

      ‘Him?’ A contemptuous kick landed on Adam’s back. ‘He will be dead before sunlight. Did you see him stagger as he came out? They did their work at the inn.’

      ‘You will get what you deserve,’ Adam muttered under his breath, but he kept his body still and his face in the mud, waiting.

      ‘I’ll check his person.’

      ‘It won’t be there. It will be in the coach. He didn’t have time, like,’ Hawkins protested. ‘He always takes the necklace when he travels. He has a special compartment for it, see. He didn’t have the time or the wit to get it.’

      ‘Just the same.’ Hands tore at his coat, ripping it from his back.

      ‘That was a mistake. My tailor hasn’t even sent the bill yet,’ Adam said as he flipped over and brought his boots up into his attacker’s chest and kicked hard.

      The man flew backwards, colliding with another.

      Adam crouched for a heartbeat and then began to run. Behind him, he heard the screech of the men calling their dogs. But Adam did not stop until he reached a small cliff, lit silver in the moonlight. He checked his step as a stone bounced down and hit the river.

      The dogs howled again, closer. Two shots rang out.

      Adam kicked off his boots, grabbed them with one hand and jumped, allowing the current to take him.

      * * *

      ‘Miss Milton! Miss Milton. You must come. A man is lying by the river. Without any clothes on! Undressed—that is to say, naked!’

      Daisy Milton glanced up from her sister Felicity’s latest letter about their niece and the unwelcome return of her illness. She was alarmed at her young charge’s words. A naked man? Here in this peaceful spot? Nella Blandish was supposed to be gathering flowers for a botany project, not spying. She had been given the strictest orders. But Nella had returned with her hat ribbon askew, pinafore stained, no flowers and another outlandish tale.

      There were times when a governess was forced to make a judgement. Her sister’s problems would have to wait.

      ‘Truly, Miss Milton, there is a naked man! I saw him with my very own eyes.’

      Daisy folded the letter and placed it in the wicker basket, each movement precise and unhurried. ‘Is this another of your fables, Prunella Blandish? This one does bear some semblance to last week’s tale about the lion eating buttercups.’

      ‘It is the truth…this time, Miss Milton. Honest, there is a naked man. You could see everything—all the way to kingdom come.’ Nella’s bottom lip stuck out and she shook her golden curls. ‘I watched him and watched him and he has not moved. He lies there, feet dangling in the water, head resting on a log.’

      ‘And what was this naked man of yours doing before he started lying there? Swimming?’ Daisy strove to keep her voice calm. She refused to enquire about what this everything-to-kingdom-come that Nella had seen was. If Nella’s tale was true, and if they did encounter this man on the way back to the house, she would explain in a quiet but firm voice about common decency and the necessity of wearing something when bathing.

      Nella’s reactions were only natural, the result of being a lively twelve year old. But what would Mrs Blandish say once Nella related the tale? And Nella’s sister? A tiny pain appeared behind Daisy’s eyes. She needed this position and its wage.

      No one ever set out to be a governess, least of all her. But Felicity had to look after their niece, and the annuity from her father was barely enough for one to manage on, let alone three. There was little to be done about falling sickness, but she completely agreed with Felicity that Kammie must be kept at home. It was Felicity, not she, who bore the hardest burden. Daisy’s sole contribution was to provide what funds she could.

      ‘How should I know, Miss Milton, what the man was doing before I saw him?’ Nella adopted her butter-wouldn’t-melt face. ‘You always tell me to refrain from speculating.’

      ‘It is a lovely afternoon in July.’ Daisy kept her voice light and tried to regain some of her authority. ‘I do hope you came away without saying anything. It would have been the height of bad manners, Prunella, to interrupt a man’s bathing.’

      ‘He wasn’t bathing. He was lying there in his altogether…’ Nella’s brow wrinkled and she clasped her hands under her chin, the very picture of injured innocence. ‘That is the very honest truth, Miss Milton.’

      Daisy frowned, tapping her fingers against the basket.

      How many times had she heard those words—‘the very honest truth’—over the past few months, only to discover that Nella had managed to exaggerate or somehow twist the story until it bore little resemblance to the actual sequence of events? This tale would stop here.

      ‘You solemnly promised your dearest mama no more tales or untruths.’

      ‘I know what I saw, Miss Milton…’ Nella pushed her bonnet more firmly on to her head. ‘I’ll prove it. Don’t you want to see the man? Judge for yourself?’

      To see the man? Daisy set her bonnet more firmly on her head and smoothed the pleats of her black stuff gown. Nella made it seem as if she was some sort of sex-starved spinster who had nothing better to do than spy on men bathing. She had a healthy appreciation of the masculine form, but the consequences had to be considered. Someone had to contain Nella’s enthusiasm.

      ‘It is not a question of want, Prunella, but of decorum.’

      ‘It would be the Christian thing to do.’ Nella’s being positively glowed as the idea took hold in her brain. ‘To see if he was in trouble and needed our aid. He could have gone over the waterfall, or have been attacked by brigands…or…’

      ‘I do know my Christian duty, thank you, Prunella. And I endeavour to do it. Always. As you should.’

      Daisy checked the little watch pinned to her gown. Nearly half past three. Did they have time to investigate? She could then deliver the ‘Importance of Always Telling the Truth’ lecture for the seventh time in as many days when Nella’s falsehood was revealed.

      ‘It is time we returned to the house. Your dear mama and sister will wish to know where you are. There may be arrivals to greet. Gilsland Spa is quite the rage this year as London remains in solemn mourning for our late lamented king.’

      ‘Susan isn’t interested in new arrivals. Susan’s sights are fixed on Lord Edward because he is the younger grandson of an earl and she wants a title.’ Nella paused and wrinkled her nose. ‘But Mama says that if anyone more eligible comes along, Susan had best be prepared to change her mind. Papa is worried about Lord Edward being to let in the pocket. Susan agreed eventually. СКАЧАТЬ