Tender Rebel

by Johanna Lindsey

  Roslynn ran back to the bed, yanked off the scratchy blanket, and, rushing back, stuck it out the window. She waved it furiously, leaning out the window as well, until finally her arms became exhausted, her breath labored. Nothing. If anyone noticed, it no doubt appeared she was simply airing the blanket, nothing to elicit curiosity.

  And then she heard the wagon. Her head swung around to see it slowly entering the lane, and her heart began to race with excitement. It was filled with barrels, possibly using the lane as a shortcut to reach the other street. The lone driver was whistling as he prodded his mule, pausing only to sweet-talk the animal.

  Roslynn dropped the blanket, giving up waving it, waving her arms instead. But without her making a sound, the driver simply didn’t notice. His hat was wide-brimmed, and since she was above him, she was blocked from his view. The nearer he came, the less chance there was that he would see her at all, and the more she panicked. She hissed, and said psst, and waved even more frantically to draw his attention, but to no avail. By the time she thought to throw the water pitcher down at him, he was already too far past her window. Besides, with the noise the wagon was making over the cobbled lane, she doubted he would have heard the crash unless she landed a direct hit, which was unlikely as sore as her arms were already.

  Disappointment washed over her and she slumped back against the wall beside the window. This just wouldn’t do. Even if the fellow had noticed her, how could she have explained her predicament in a whisper? He wouldn’t have been able to understand her. And if she spoke any louder than a whisper, she would give herself away to Mrs. Pym.

  Hell’s teeth, was there nothing else she could do? She eyed the water pitcher again, but she had little hope she could succeed with it. When Geordie came again, he was likely to have the reverend with him, as well as the men who had fetched him, for witnesses to this unholy ceremony would be needed.

  Roslynn was so distraught by picturing herself actually married to Geordie Cameron that she didn’t hear the second vehicle passing through the lane until it was almost too late. When she turned at the sound, the hay wagon was nearly beneath her window. This driver, also alone, was cursing the two nags pulling the load of hay, emphasizing his apparent ire by shaking the gin bottle in his hand at them, swilling a long draft, then shaking it with another curse. He wouldn’t hear her for the noise he himself was making, and he was so close already.

  There was nothing for it. She might not have another chance. So without thinking about it, for that would have terrified her and kept her inside, Roslynn climbed up on the window ledge, waited the few seconds until the wagon was directly below, and jumped.

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was an insane thing to do. That thought passed through Roslynn’s mind as she was falling, falling, her feet flying up in front of her eyes, her hands instinctively clutching at air, knowing she was going to die. She cursed Geordie with her last breath, but at least there was some satisfaction that he would think she preferred death to marrying him, though not enough satisfaction to make it worthwhile, for she was the one dying, while that greedy cur would probably produce a marriage certificate and claim her fortune anyway.

  She landed with a bone-jarring impact, flat on her back. Breath and wits deserted her, and for a moment she actually passed out. A missing cobblestone was responsible for the wagon’s jolt that brought her back to her senses. She groaned, thinking she must surely have a dozen broken bones. But the next jarring of the wagon caused her no discomfort. Incredible. To have done something so stupid, yet come through unscathed. She was surely blessed, but then fools usually were, and she was the greatest of that number today. She could have broken her neck, and well she knew it! But thank God for the cushion of hay. If it had been any other load this wagon was carrying…

  Miraculously, the drunken driver was unaware he had gained a passenger, but Roslynn supposed her impact with the wagon seemed no different to him in his sottish condition from the wagon hitting a particularly deep rut. Either that, or the man was deaf.

  Scattered hay nearly covered her from head to foot, but one glance at the window she had just leaped from, and she swiftly yanked handfuls to complete the camouflage. And not a moment too soon. The wagon rolled out of the shadowed lane into the congested, brightly lit street, and Roslynn finally realized, horribly, that she was wearing nothing more than the thin white cotton nightgown she had gone to sleep in last night, and was barefoot as well.

  But she could be thankful for small favors. At least the gown wasn’t one of the skimpy negligees that had been made for her trousseau. It covered her from neck to ankle, with flowing long sleeves cuffed at the wrist, and she supposed if she could find something that would make do for a belt, it might pass for a dress at first glance.

  Unfortunately, Roslynn had little time to think of that or how she was going to get home without money. The wagon rolled into a stable and stopped, and she just managed to scurry out of it and hide behind an empty stall before the driver came around back to begin unloading the hay. Another man, big and burly, joined him, cursing him in a good-humored way for being late. While they both tackled the hay, Roslynn reconnoitered.

  A stable wasn’t such a bad place to end her journey thus far. Actually, it was ideal. If she could just rent a horse and get directions to Mayfair, for she still had no idea what part of the city she was in now, she could be home before long and without further incident. The trouble was, the only thing of value on her person was her mother’s crucifix, which she wore whenever she wasn’t decked out in her more costly jewels, and it was unthinkable to part with it. Still, it didn’t look as if she would have much choice in the matter, unless she was closer to Mayfair than she realized. Then she could chance walking, even barefoot.

  Roslynn frowned at that idea. It wasn’t one of her better ones, and she was forgetting the sort of street traffic she had seen passing by the lane—delivery wagons, drunkards, sailors walking with their doxies, but not one carriage. And this stable wasn’t so very far from where she had escaped. Whatever part of town this was, it certainly wasn’t elite, and trying to walk through it would likely give her more trouble than she had started with. Which left her again with the desperate need to rent a horse.

  Not knowing if Geordie had discovered her absence yet and might already be searching for her in the nearby vicinity made Roslynn a bundle of nerves as she waited for the gin-guzzler to depart with his hay wagon. But she had decided to risk being alone with the other fellow to state her case, for the less people who saw her in her present condition, the better. She could just imagine the scandal should any of this get out. Lady Chadwick cavorting through the slums in her nightgown. How the ton would eat that up, and down the wayside would go her last chance for a quick, decent marriage.

  Still, she had to mentally push herself out of her hiding place once it appeared she was finally alone with the stableman, mortified that anyone, stranger or not, should see her in her bedclothes. And her embarrassment increased a hundredfold when the big fellow actually noticed her and his eyes fairly popped out of his head. Standing with one bare foot unsuccessfully trying to hide the other, her arms crossed over her chest because even though she was completely covered, she still felt naked, and her hair streaming about her upper torso, ribboned with straw, she was a sight to behold—a very fetching sight, actually, though she would be the last to think so.

  The man must have thought so, however, because he continued to stare, unmoving, unspeaking, his mouth hanging open. He was middle-aged, brown hair feathered with gray, gray stubble on a too-wide jaw. Whether he was proprietor or employee she couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter, though. He was all she had to help her, and knowing that filled her with a nervousness she wouldn’t otherwise have felt.

  Roslynn blurted out her predicament with the briefest explanation, but so swiftly, it was doubtful the fellow understood even two words of it. And in fact, it was several long moments before he gave any indication that he had heard her at all. Then he chuckle
d, hitching up his pants and walking toward her.

  “A ’orse, eh? Ye should ’ave said right off, miss. ’Ere I was thinking me good friend Zeke ’ad sent o’er a right fine birthday present. A ’orse?” He chuckled again, shaking his head. “Can’t blame a man fer wishful thinking.”

  Roslynn was blushing furiously before he had finished laughing. “Do you have one to rent?”

  “Two I ’ave, both nags, but the good stock goes out early, it does.”

  “Will you take this, then?” She lifted the cross off her neck and handed it to him. “It’ll buy both nags plus several more, but I’ll be wanting it back. I’ll send someone back with the horse and the proper payment.”

  He turned the cross over in his hand, then had the audacity to bite on it before nodding his head. “It’ll do.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d have a pair of shoes I could borrow too?”

  He took one look at her dainty feet and snorted at the request. “Not likely, miss. Me children’s all growed an’ gone, they are.”

  Desperately she asked, “A cloak, then, or something to cover myself with?”

  “Now, that I can manage. Aye, an’ best I do, or ye’d be causing a bleeding riot in the streets, ye would.”

  Roslynn was too relieved to be annoyed at the sound of his laughter as he went off to fetch her the nag.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The shadows of twilight grew darker with each passing second. What should have amounted to a thirty-minute ride had turned into a three-hour excursion of wrong turns, delays, and increasing aggravations. But at least Roslynn knew where she was now, and in fact she was grateful for the dark, for in her eagerness to be home she hadn’t taken into consideration the ride down South Audley Street, where any number of people might have recognized her. The dark came in handy for concealment, and handier still was the hood of the old moth-eaten cloak the stableman had tossed her.

  Hell’s teeth, this day couldn’t end soon enough for her, but it was far from finished yet. She could no longer stay with Frances, not even for tonight. And she could no longer delay getting married. Geordie’s locating her had changed everything. She even expected to find him waiting on the doorstep for her, or secreted in a carriage ready to pounce on her the moment she reached the house.

  Luck stayed with her, however, at least in letting her reach home without further mishap. And she even considered it fortunate that Frances wasn’t there, for she would have disapproved of what Roslynn meant to do, would have tried to stop her, and Roslynn didn’t have the time it would take to convince her she knew what she was doing.

  Nettie was another matter. After sending one of the footmen back to the stable with the old horse and the money to retrieve her cross, and briefly assuring the butler and other servants she passed along the way that she was fine, but giving them no explanation, Roslynn rushed upstairs to find Nettie in her room, anxiously pacing the floor and looking more haggard than she had ever seen her. But at first sight of Roslynn, her face filled with surprise and relief.

  “Och, hinny, if ye didna give me the worst scare of my life!” And then almost in the same breath, her tune changed. “Where the devil have ye been, I’d like tae be knowing? I thought yer cousin had ye fer sure.”

  Roslynn nearly smiled at Nettie’s ability to jump from one emotion to another with such startling swiftness, but as harried as she was herself, she couldn’t even spare a moment for the amusement her abigail stirred, so welcome after such a ghastly day. She hurried straight to her wardrobe, tossing over her shoulder, “He did, Nettie. Now help me dress, quickly, while I tell you about it.”

  She did, and Nettie interrupted only once with “Ye did what?” when she came to the part about jumping out of the window. After she had finished, the anxiety was back in Nettie’s expression.

  “Then ye canna stay here nae longer.”

  “I know,” Roslynn replied. “And I’m leaving tonight, we both are, but not together.”

  “But—”

  “Listen now,” Roslynn interrupted impatiently. “I’ve had all afternoon to think what’s best to do. Geordie’s made his move. Now that his scheme is out in the open, what’s to stop him from forcing his way in wherever I am and taking me again, and next time maybe hurting someone in the process? It took me so long to get home, I thought for certain he’d be here waiting. But perhaps he didn’t think I could make it this far without money or clothes.”

  “Then ye think he’s still searching fer ye near where ye escaped him?”

  “Either that, or he’s working on a new plan already. But there’s also the likelihood he sent someone here to watch the house. Although I didn’t see anyone, that doesn’t mean no one’s out there, so we’ve got to confuse them, and pray it’s only one man. If we leave together at the same time but in different directions, he’ll not know who to follow.”

  “But where are we going?”

  Roslynn finally smiled. “Back to Silverley. He’ll have no way to trace us there.”

  “Ye dinna know that.”

  “It was Geordie who tried to have me snatched off the street that day. He knew where I was, but apparently no one was watching the house the morning I left so early for the country. When he realized I had gone, he sent men out in all directions, but the trail was lost after we left that inn where we joined up. As long as we avoid public places and aren’t followed, we’ll be safe.”

  “But, lass, that accomplishes nothing but tae hide ye fer a time. It doesna get ye married, and ye’ll no’ really be safe from that blackguard until ye wed.”

  “I know, which is why I’ll be sending for the gentleman of my choice to meet me there and put my proposition to him. If all goes well, I can be married at Silverley too, if Regina doesn’t mind.”

  Nettie’s brows shot up. “Then ye’ve decided which one tae marry?”

  “By the time I get there, I’ll know which one I want,” Roslynn hedged, for that was the only thing still in doubt. “The important thing at the moment is to get there without leaving a trail Geordie can follow. Now, I’ve already sent one of the servants to fetch us each a rented hack.”

  “What of Brutus?” Nettie asked, then glanced with wide eyes at Roslynn’s full wardrobe. “And all yer clothes? There’s nae time tae pack—”

  “They must be left here until after I’m wed, Nettie. We can both take a few things now, and I’m sure Regina has a competent seamstress who can supply whatever else we need to see us to the wedding. All I need to do is leave a note for Frances; then we can be off. Where is she, by the way?”

  Nettie grunted. “After she fair wore the carpet down tae a frazzle all morning long, one of the maids mentioned she had a brother who knew a certain fellow, who knew how tae go about hiring the kind of men who could find ye quicker than the authorities—”

  “Authorities!” Roslynn gasped, horrified that the scandal she had worried about all day was going to break around her head anyway. “Hell’s teeth! She didna report me missing, did she?”

  Nettie quickly shook her head. “She was near tae doing it, though, that worried she was, but knew once she did, it’d never be kept secret. And if ye’d no’ be completely ruined, the talk would still hurt yer efforts tae get a decent husband. That’s why she jumped on the maid’s suggestion, and even insisted on going herself tae arrange the hiring.”

  Roslynn frowned. “Still, with so many servants knowing—”

  “Och now, ye’re no’ tae worry as tae that, lass. They’re good people Lady Frances has, but tae be safe, I had a wee talk wi’ each of them. They’re no’ likely tae breathe a word outside this house about yer absence.”

  Roslynn chuckled. “You’ll have to tell me sometime what threats you used, but right now we’ve no more time. Go and pack up several changes of clothes, and I’ll do the same, then meet me downstairs. We should leave at exactly the same moment. And, Nettie, head north until you’re certain you’re not followed; then you can turn toward Hampshire. I’ll go south and then backtrack too
. But if I don’t arrive close behind you, you’re not to worry. I’ll be going far out of my way first, just to be safe. I don’t intend to fall into Geordie’s hands again no matter what. He won’t be so careless the next time.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  It seemed like an eternity before the front door finally opened to Roslynn’s repeated pounding, and pounding she was doing before she finished. She was in such a state of nerves, in fact, expecting to be seized at any moment, that even her own shadow gave her a start when she glanced behind her to make sure the old carriage was still waiting, the driver still keeping an eye on her. Not that he would be much help if Geordie and his hirelings found her.

  It was the risk that had her in a such a state. She shouldn’t be stopping here. She had promised Nettie she would make all haste out of London, yet she had come directly here instead, not allowing herself time to lose anyone who might have followed her. That was what had her heart hammering to the tune of her fist against the door. Geordie could be sneaking up on her at this very moment, getting closer and closer, while she stood here waiting for the bloody door to open.

  When it did open, she shoved her way inside so forcefully, she nearly knocked the butler down. She closed the door herself, leaning back against it, then looked aghast at the fellow, who was looking even more aghast at her.

  He collected himself first, straightening his coat with a sharp tug, gathering his dignity about him like a cloak. “Really, miss-”

  She jumped in to forestall him, unthinkingly giving him an even worse impression of her. “Och, mon, dinna scold me. I’m sorry to be barging in, but this is an emergency. I must speak wi’ Sir Anthony.”

  “Out of the question,” he stated with haughty disdain. “Sir Anthony is not receiving tonight.”

  “He isna here, then?”