Regency Brides Series: A Historical Regency Romance Box Set

by Laura Locke

  Yes! Pauline thought, elated. She smiled back. The warmth in the girl's eyes was scintillating, like a fire. The look only lasted an instant and then Romilly looked back down at her soup again. Pauline continued eating, pretending the exchange had not occurred.

  After the main course – grilled river fish – and a dessert of peaches, all eaten in grave silence, she thanked the family politely and stood.

  “I should not impose any longer,” she said. “My thanks for the hospitality.”

  “Oh, no,” Lady Melissa said insistently. “You must let Giles show you the chart! Your family! We must see if we can find them.”

  “You are too kind,” Pauline murmured. In her heart she smiled, relieved. That was what she had hoped would happen. She followed Lord Dashwood out and was surprised when she felt the silent presence of Romilly slip in beside her.

  “Thank you for hosting me,” she whispered to Romilly.

  “It's nothing,” the girl said back. “I...it is nice to see new faces.”

  The way she said it sounded so mournful that Pauline felt her heart bruise. She wanted to pat the girl's hand, but she had her hands clasped before her and her whole posture was closed. She seemed to her the sort of person who would shy from contact.

  “Well, I would like to stay a while,” Pauline whispered back. “My inn is seamy and unsafe.”

  “Oh?” the younger woman covered her mouth with her hand in surprise. “Well, you must stay! I am certain Mama could not object.”

  Pauline smiled to see the slight stiffening of Romilly's posture, as if she was ready to argue this particular point with her mother. How sad that she would stand up for me, but not for herself. As she thought it, Pauline realized that it was probably impossible for her to do anything else. I would not take on either of those two creatures, never mind both together. Her father has the wild look of a fanatic. He would likely kill someone who went against his ideas.

  “That is very kind,” she said.

  “Not at all,” Romilly insisted again. Hesitantly, she reached out and touched Pauline's hand. Pauline felt her heart melt. She pressed her hand affectionately.

  “Now,” Lord Dashwood was saying, “here is the library. We have an extensive record of our family history...here...” he grunted, pulling a dusty volume off a shelf. “So if you would wish, Miss Dashwood, you would be welcome to peruse it.”

  “Thank you,” Pauline said, glancing at the book and wishing inwardly that she had made up another excuse for being here. The book looked desperately dull.

  “Here,” he invited, sitting and waving her to a chair. Pauline glanced at Romilly, who gave a little nod of encouragement. Pauline sat down beside him, looking at the pages of the book.

  “Now, we know the family as far as the sixteenth century,” he began. “We start with Richard Dashwood, here...” he pointed to a name written in ink and Pauline set her mind to the dull inactivity with which she used to approach sermons as a child.

  Half an our later, he had come to the same conclusion she had earlier – for good reason. There was no Emma Dashwood in the book.

  “It's most peculiar,” he said, bewildered. “It seems impossible we could not have your ancestors in the records!” He scowled and shut the book. Pauline could almost hear him haranguing whoever had made the books, punishing them for their oversight. She shivered.

  “I'm sure there is a reason,” she soothed. “Mayhap there are two families with the same name. It's quite possible.”

  He scowled at her. “Dashwood is an unusual name, Miss Lancer. It seems more likely someone in your family is wrong.”

  Pauline blinked. As it happened, he was right. But the way in which he said it gave her some insight into the nature of the man. Nothing could ever be his fault, clearly. Or some innocent mistake. No, he must blame someone, always. He must have been a joy to live with, she thought ironically. I almost pity Lady Melissa. Almost.

  “It might be so,” she said lightly. She stood, dusting off her skirt.

  “And where are you going?” he blustered. “I didn't say we'd finished.”

  Pauline stared at him. She was about to retort with some icy response when Romilly walked in, saving her what could have been a very awkward situation.

  “Miss Lancer?” she said timidly. “Father? Mother wished me to say...”

  “Speak, child!” he bellowed. “Or must you come and interrupt and then mumble at us all?”

  Pauline opened her mouth, about to tear a strip off him as, she knew, he so rightly deserved. But Romilly, blinking rapidly to hide the tears said, loudly. “Yes, you are right. Father. Mama wished to see you, Miss Lancer.”

  She bobbed at the knee and walked out. Pauline stared after her. Then she turned and glared at Lord Dashwood. She let her eyes burn a moment with all the anger she felt toward him. Then she turned and walked away, back straight.

  “Thank you for fetching me, Romilly,” she said gently.

  Romilly snorted. “I did nothing,” she said, scathingly. “You feel pity for me.” Her eyes challenged Pauline, brown and blazing and hurt.

  Pauline blinked. “Sorry it seemed that way. But I meant it, truly. I thought if I had to sit there much longer, I'd go crazy.”

  Romilly caught her eye and gave her a wicked grin. She didn't apologize for the earlier outburst, but she reached across and squeezed Pauline's hand. Pauline smiled.

  It would be by no means easy to understand Romilly, nor to tread around her many wounds. But she was up for the challenge. Seeing the girl smile was enough.

  They found Lady Dashwood in the drawing-room, a sepulchral place with no wallpaper and the barest semblance of furnishings. Pauline shivered. The whole manor looked as if it had stood bare for centuries.

  “Miss Lancer,” Lady Dashwood said thinly, “my daughter has brought it to my attention that you are...inadequately housed. We would like to propose a solution. There is a decent inn by the village gates – the Two Dragons. My husband and I would gladly furnish you with lodgings there for the night.”

  “Oh!” Pauline said, thinking. “That is very, very kind of you. I am most grateful.”

  “We regret, but we do not take visitors here.”

  “I understand,” Pauline said. She was sure it would spoil the rigid prison they had built around Romilly if they had visitors in the place.

  “You will go there in the company of our groomsman, who will settle the costs in our name. If you would like to leave by horseback, I shall call the man to saddle your horse now.”

  “Oh,” Pauline blinked. It seemed she was being thrown out. She glanced cross at Romilly.

  “Mother, I...” Romilly began quickly.

  “You will be silent!” her mother snapped. Romilly colored and then cleared her throat. Her whole body shivered but she stood firmly.

  “Mother, I will accompany Pauline to the inn.”

  “You will not,” her mother hissed. Pauline intervened.

  “Lady Melissa, it would be most uncharitable to deny me the company of a girl my own age,” she said quickly. “I have been traveling with only my father's steward for company and a change would be most refreshing.”

  “Humph,” Lady Melissa said. But she could not argue that point. “Well, then.”

  Pauline wanted to dance. She didn't, of course. She turned to Romilly and smiled at her.

  “Thank you. I will be pleased of your company, Lady Romilly.” She nodded to Lady Melissa as she walked past. “Thank you for your offer of accommodation. It is good to meet such charitable folk.”

  As she walked up the hallway, Romilly behind her, the girl met her eye and grinned. Her face shone like a light and Pauline felt a little shiver of joy. At least she had made someone's life easier. If only just for today.

  And, she thought as she walked down the steps with some relief into the sunlit garden, who knew what she might find out during the ride? She would do her best to find out the most possible.

  Chapter 27

  “And you say you live
in Upton?” Romilly asked. They were riding along the road through tall trees, the shadows shifting in a delicate breeze. Pauline nodded.

  “That's right,” she confirmed. “Not so far from here.”

  “So you are used to the climate, then,” Romilly said gravely. “It is very mild this time of year, is it not?”

  “Yes, quite so.” Pauline nodded. She racked her brain to try and find a way to bring the conversation toward a more intimate topic. She had perhaps half an hour with Romilly alone. She had to use it. “You like to ride?”

  “I did,” Romilly said tightly. “When I was a girl. Now I do not venture out alone. Yourself?”

  “I love riding,” Pauline admitted. “I have a friend who rides with me. His name is Valerian Harrington.”

  At the mention of the name, Romilly stopped dead. The reins, which she held loosely, dropped from her fingers. Her face was stiff; her eyes wide and melting, as ice does, in the spring. “Valerian?” she whispered. “No.” She said the second word as if to herself, castigating herself for some sin.

  She turned away from Pauline then, setting her horse to a brisk walk.

  “Romilly?” Pauline asked. She knew she should not press the girl but she had to. She needed to know why her attitude changed. Surely not since...

  Not since Valerian did take advantage of her. Not since she bore him a child.

  The realization hit into her chest with the force of a cannon striking. She had to be right. Why else was the family so frosty, so insular? Valerian had been here, used their daughter and gone away. What else could explain this?

  Valerian would not do that. Trust.

  “Romilly!” she called. “Wait!” She rode after.

  Romilly turned in the saddle. Her eyes blazed. “I do not want to speak of him!” she shouted at Pauline. “I do not! How could you mention his name? How could you..?” She started crying then, tears of bitter sadness flooding her face. Pauline rode closer, reaching out to touch her. Romilly recoiled. She glared at her, a look of hate. Then the light went out of her eyes and she sobbed.

  “Oh! Miss Lancer. I'm sorry. It just...it brought it all back. That year. The time. Valerian...” she covered her hands and sobbed. “I owe him my life!”

  Pauline stared at her. She had no idea what to say. Of all things, she had not expected that. She had no idea what to say and so she said nothing, waiting while the girl sobbed.

  “Miss Lancer, I've never...I've never spoken of this,” she said. “Now you...come here and...and remind me of it. I have never told a soul. But now the words burn my chest and I must speak them.” she nodded, throat working as if she choked. “I must tell you.”

  “Tell me,” Pauline said. She stopped her horse beside Romilly's own and waited.

  Romilly drew in a slow breath, then let it out.

  “When I was sixteen, my cousin came to stay. Edward. He was twenty one. He was...like many men his age. Bluff, crass. Insecure and wanting to prove himself. He had friends to stay. Military men.” she choked. “They saw me and...and they taunted Edward. Said he wasn't a man. So he took me and...” she gulped. “In the study, in the dark...”

  She sobbed. Bitter tears poured down her face and Pauline waited while she cried. She understood what the girl had not said. Her cousin had used her. She felt a dull, sick ache in her heart and wished the man was before her so she could show him a measure of the pain he had inflicted.

  “After...my mother...she...I couldn't tell her, Miss Lancer! Who could I tell? One of the men, my cousin's companions, found out. He helped me. Took me away from here. Said he would help me get away. That was where I met Valerian.” she choked.

  “I see,” Pauline said softly. In truth, her mind was reeling.

  “Valerian, he...he was so kind,” Romilly whispered. “I think he is the nicest man ever.” She looked at Pauline a little defiantly, as if to dare her to say otherwise. Pauline nodded.

  “He is a kind man.” She waited for her next words.

  “He...when he heard what had happened, he pledged to help me. He said there was a place, in Bath, where I could g...go. Have the child in secret.” she sniffed. “He took me as far as the coast. But... but then it transpired I was not with ch...child. So he took me home.” Romilly sniffed. “My mother was f...furious. She and my father sought to cast me out. But he spoke for me. Said there was no harm done. He would vouch for me. He would help me. So they kept me.”

  Pauline stared at her. Suddenly it all made sense. Valerian had been accused of what the cousin had done. He had tried to help Romilly and been seen with her in public. People had talked and it was assumed he had abducted her. To protect her, he had not denied it.

  Valerian, her heart wanted to cry. You are a good, good man. She turned to Romilly.

  “Lady Romilly, thank you for telling me this. I sorrow for your pain.”

  Romilly looked into her eyes, suspicious of charity, but saw sincerity there and nodded quickly.

  “I feel better,” she said, surprised. It seemed to be the last thing she expected. Pauline nodded.

  “You have kept that secret many years,” she said gently. “I promise it will not spread.”

  Romilly shot her another look, but nodded. “I believe you,” she said. “Do you...still see Valerian?” she asked.

  “I do,” Pauline nodded. “Quite often, actually.”

  “Send him my thanks.” Romilly whispered it, then turned the horse away. Pauline rode a little back from her, and was just far enough behind to see fresh tears track down the younger woman's face.

  She loves Valerian. But not, I think, as I. He was her savior. He took her out of the hell that her family planned for her, gave her a life. Perhaps not the best one, but better than the street. She shuddered. What kind of people would put their daughter out for something like that?

  Respectability is sometimes an evil thing.

  In the name of respectability, she realized, she would be married to an overgrown child like Cornelius. In its name, Romilly suffered in silence, not even allowed to ride out of her home or speak a word unasked for. And for respectability, Valerian had been outcast. For now she was sure he had come from a noble family and, because of the rumors, been disowned.

  I cannot thank Romilly enough. She has freed me with her words. And freed Valerian.

  She rode up alongside her new-found friend just as they reached the inn.

  “Romilly?” she said softly. “Thank you.” She could feel her cheeks were flushed and knew her eyes must shine with tears and gratitude.

  “Don't thank me,” she said icily.

  Pauline paused.

  “I do thank you, Romilly. You have helped Valerian more than you can know. He would than you too.”

  Romilly looked at her then, her dark eyes afloat in pools of tears. “Send him my regards,” she said softly.

  “I will,” Pauline sad quietly. But Romilly had already turned away, riding back down the road to the mansion.

  Chapter 28

  Things happened quickly after that. Pauline thanked the innkeeper at the Dragons, explained weakly that she had to fetch her luggage and rode, faster than she would have imagined, to find Francis and Cornelia.

  “I found out!” she said to them, breathless.

  “Hurray!” Cornelia exclaimed.

  “Congratulations,” Francis said.

  The two both started laughing. Pauline was nervous they would ask her to relate the story, but they were both too polite to inquire and too wrapped up in their company to do anything but grin at each other, then turn to her.

  “You want to go back?” Francis asked gently. “I must confess, we were just worrying.”

  “Yes!” Cornelia said abruptly. She sounded so insistent that they laughed.

  As they rode back to the inn, Pauline felt the sudden release after months of not knowing, exhaust her. She rode ahead of the others, needing space with her own thoughts, and they did not press her, for which she was grateful.

  “Pauline?” Francis a
sked while Cornelia hurried in to order them some tea, “how was it?”

  “It was successful,” Pauline said carefully. “Exhausting, but successful.”

  Francis nodded. “Good.”

  “Francis, I might have to spend the night at the Two Dragons,” Pauline added as they walked back from the stables after paying for the loan of three horses.

  “Oh?” he asked. She explained the predicament and he laughed warmly.

  “The wages of lying, eh?” he chuckled. “Well, if we're expecting to return home tomorrow, we'll settle our bill here and come and break our fast with you. The Two Dragons may be smaller and less well-known, but they do the better breakfast. By far.”

  Pauline chuckled. “Oh, Francis,” she said weakly.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Thank you for being here.”

  He patted her arm. “Thank you for allowing me to come. An hour with Cornelia, riding in the woods, is worth indescribably much.”

  Pauline felt her chest fill with warmth. At least it was not only her for whom this foray into Dorset meant everything.

  “Well, I'll go and wash my face and find Cornelia,” Francis said as he went up the stairs. “She promised to keep us space in the dining-room. I'm so hungry I could have two trestle-tables of tea things.”

  Pauline grinned. “I'll join you in a moment,” she replied, following him more slowly up the staircase.

  In her bedchamber she collapsed on the bed. She felt so tired she could not stand. The experience of Romilly's testimony had left her exhausted, but also elated.

  Now I know who Valerian truly is. He is who I always knew him to be.

  She sat up, feeling new energy fill her. She could not wait to bring this news to Valerian. She could safely tell him and break no promise. She had said the tale would not spread. Valerian already had knowledge of it.

  She joined Cornelia and Francis for tea, relieved to have a cup of tea and a pastry with them. Then she left for the other inn. After an evening of writing down what she'd learned, she had an early supper and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.