“Oh, Nicholas, I pray, do not speak to me in such penetrating tones. My head is ready to split.”
“Joanna has some cock-brained notion that she should go haring off to Edinburgh to be companion to some lady she has never even met.”
“Really, Nicholas, I wish you would leave me in peace. My nerves are quite overset. You obviously have no idea how dreadful it has been for me to discover that my daughter, whom I thought was lying in her room virtually at death’s door, is instead in the best of health, cavorting around Scotland with her new husband. Wretched child—I wash my hands of her!”
“I don’t care about Dorie—I am talking about Joanna!”
“There, I knew it! If you had cared enough to exert yourself in the slightest to watch over your cousin and give her the benefit of your advice, Dorie would not have felt obliged to elope! After such dereliction of duty, I am surprised you even dare show your face to me. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“Women!” With a cry of frustration, Nicholas stalked out of the room, deriving only a little satisfaction from slamming the door behind him. Was he then the only sane and sensible person left in the entire household?
Passing Dorie’s room, he heard sounds inside, and poking his head around the corner of the door, he discovered Miss Hepden busily packing his cousin’s clothing. At the rate trunks were being filled, it would appear that he would soon be the only person in the house period.
“And I suppose you are also going to blame this whole debacle on me,” he said.
Miss Hepden paused in her packing. “Why, no. Considering that Miss Dorie deliberately set out to ruin herself, I think we came off fairly well. Her grace will be very pleased with the marriage.”
“I was talking about Joanna,” Nicholas ground out. “She has some harebrained notion about becoming a companion.”
“Well, that is really the only suitable occupation open to her. She does not have enough education to be a governess, although she is certainly not the least bit stupid and could, given time, easily make up any deficiencies. But on the other hand, as attractive as she is, if she were to be employed in any household containing a young man, she would be forced to spend all her time fighting off unwelcome advances.”
“But she does not need to find employment. I have said I will take care of her as if she were my own sister.”
Miss Hepden smiled at him strangely. With a shock, Nicholas realized she was looking at him pityingly. It was beyond bearing—any more attempts on his part to reason with females would doubtless result in his being carried off to Bedlam.
What he needed was brandy—no, he was not going to let a woman drive him to drink. He needed a clear head if he was going to salvage something from this mess.
* * * *
The hackney rumbled and bumped through the streets of London on its way to the General Post Office in Lombard Street, where the mail coach waited to carry Joanna far, far away from the man she loved.
That Nicholas did not love her was now perfectly obvious. After a few empty protests this morning, which he had clearly made only out of politeness, he had dropped all attempts to change her mind. Indeed, he had gone about his business almost as if he had already forgotten her. She had thought he would at least see her off—say good-bye—but that was left to Miss Hepden, who would herself on the morrow be departing for Colthurst Hall.
“Remember, do not allow strange men to strike up conversations with you, no matter how polite they seem. They should be able to tell by your clothing that you are respectable, even though you have no maid traveling with you, but some men consider unescorted women to be their natural prey.”
Joanna nodded. Miss Hepden had been repeating the same motherly instructions over and over for the last several hours.
“And it will be best if you avoid eating heavy, greasy food along the way, since it is sure to make you queasy.”
Joanna did not bother to point out that if the trip across the English Channel from Antwerp to Harwich had not bothered her stomach, it was doubtful anything would.
“And I hope you will find time occasionally after you are settled in Scotland to drop a line to me.” Miss Hepden’s usual tone of brisk instruction was now softened.
Reaching out for the older woman’s hand, Joanna clung to it momentarily, then without knowing which of them had initiated it, they were embracing each other.
“Oh, Miss Hepden, of course I shall write to you. You have been so kind to me, I do not think I will ever forget your generosity.”
“And of all the ladies I have served, I think you are truly the most deserving to be called a lady—except for her grace, of course,” she added as an afterthought, lest Joanna think she was being disloyal to the duchess.
Sitting back and surreptitiously wiping her eyes, which were becoming suspiciously damp, Joanna felt obliged to protest. “How can you say such a thing about me? I am only the daughter of a naval officer, and I have none of the accomplishments of a true lady.”
“The world may consider it necessary for a lady to splash watercolors about on a page and assault the ears of her visitors with her caterwauling, but as for me, I think a kind and generous heart is the mark of a true lady, and in all my years in service, I must tell you that I have met very few ‘ladies’ who deserve that title. In fact, other than her grace, the only one who comes to mind is Lady Letitia.”
“You know Lady Letitia? Oh, was it you who...?” Realizing the question she had been about to ask was impertinent, Joanna stopped, but Miss Hepden understood what was being asked, and she answered easily.
“You are wondering if I am the one who told Lady Letitia about Miss Dorinda being abducted? Yes, I did, which means I deliberately disobeyed the strict injunctions for secrecy that Mr. Goldsborough laid down. But then, I am not in his employ, and her grace, who is my employer, gave me orders also, before we left Colthurst Hall, and her instructions were that I was to keep Lady Letitia informed of everything that went forward during our stay in London so that she might keep Miss Dorinda under her watchful eye also. As old as she is, Lady Letitia is not the least bit senile, and she can see clearly many things that other people never notice.”
Can she? Joanna wanted to ask. But Lady Letitia appears to have been wrong about Nicholas. Showing him that I no longer need him in the capacity of a brother was supposed to make him realize he would actually prefer being my husband ... but instead he appears to have jumped at the chance to wash his hands of my affairs.
All too soon the hackney arrived at Lombard Street, where the scene that met Joanna’s eyes was more a nightmare than a dream. Coaches were loading everywhere, amid what appeared to her to be utter confusion. How easy it would be, she realized, to climb into the wrong coach and wake up tomorrow in Exeter instead of on the way to Edinburgh.
It was all she could do to resist the almost overwhelming urge to hang on to Miss Hepden’s hand the way a small child clings to its mother—but she was not five years old, and she must put such childish ways behind her.
Seemingly unperturbed by the chaos around them, Miss Hepden gave the jarvey instructions for dealing with Joanna’s baggage, then pressed a small purse into Joanna’s hand.
“Just a little bit extra I have saved up. You will not wish to be without money of your own.”
“Oh, but Lady Glengarry’s man of affairs has already given me enough money for the journey.”
“Be that as it may, you will find it much more pleasant when beginning a new position if you do not have to be asking for an advance on your salary every time you need to buy a few hairpins or a new handkerchief.” So saying, she folded Joanna’s hand tightly around the small purse. “I shall feel much better knowing you are not penniless,” she added.
And I would feel a lot better if I had never agreed to Lady Letitia’s plan, Joanna thought. How much better it would be if everything were back to normal and Dorie and I were dressing for an evening’s entertainment, with Nicholas waiting impatiently below, calling up to us to
hurry.
But such thoughts only served to make it harder to control her tears, which she did not want Miss Hepden to see. In any event, in the long run it would be better to discard foolish hopes rather than to continue dreaming absurd dreams.
Despite her best efforts to be brave, when she was instructed to board the small coach, she hung back just for a moment. Then, gathering her courage around her like a cloak, she moved forward with the rest of the passengers, and when her turn came, she climbed up the steps and seated herself in the proper corner marked on her ticket.
Without feeling any great interest, Joanna inspected her traveling companions. Across from her sat a young cavalry officer and two women whose resemblance to each other made it obvious they were mother and daughter—or perhaps merely aunt and niece. On the same side as Joanna, there was an empty seat in the middle, and the far corner was occupied by a man who appeared to be a wealthy merchant.
Then the door was thrust open again and a man climbed past her legs and took the last remaining seat. Joanna stared at him in amazement. Nicholas? But—
He did not look at her or in any way acknowledge her presence. He sat staring straight ahead, his face a wooden mask that betrayed not the slightest emotion—but his very presence on the mail coach said all that Joanna needed to hear.
All urge to cry immediately left her—indeed, it was all she could do to avoid laughing out loud. It would appear that Lady Letitia was not such a bad judge of men after all.
The driver cracked his whip, and precisely at eight o’clock the carriage lurched forward, beginning the journey north that would end more than forty-two hours later in Edinburgh.
* * * *
Nicholas realized full well that Joanna was doubtless enraged by what he had done. If he knew anything about women, she was even now preparing to give him the proper set-down for having the presumption to book a seat beside her on the mail. Coward that he was, he was afraid to look at her and see just how much trouble he had gotten himself into.
Since all he wanted was to ensure her safety, her attitude was unfair to the extreme, especially after all the trouble he had taken to procure the seat beside her. Everything had been booked by the time he realized he absolutely could not consider permitting Joanna to travel without an escort.
Consequently he had wasted the entire day making inquiries and tracking down the original passenger, a sweet little old lady who had bargained like an experienced horse trader until in the end he had been forced to pay her quadruple the cost of her ticket to compensate her for the delay in her plans. Women, bah!
Unable to withstand the suspense any longer, he finally sneaked a peak at his unwilling companion. In the dim light it appeared she was ... smiling at him? That couldn’t be right. He turned his head and stared down at her, and she responded by tucking her arm through his and laying her head down on his shoulder.
It would appear that his understanding of women was woefully deficient.
How could a woman who had twice turned down his proposal of marriage now cuddle up against him as cozily and snugly as if she were a new bride setting off on a honeymoon with a beloved husband?
If, like Dorie, Joanna was determined on a course of independence, then why wasn’t she berating him the way Dorie would have done under similar circumstances? Why wasn’t she chastising him for his interference? Bawling him out for his presumption?
By the time he joined the other passengers in the land of nod, he had not come to any conclusions—or rather, he had reached only one, which was that he had nothing at all to gain by sitting in a jouncing, bouncing mail coach all the way to Scotland, where he would then only have to turn around and retrace the miles all the way back to London.
* * * *
Joanna awoke gradually from a lovely dream in which Nicholas had held her close while vowing eternal love and devotion. To her dismay, she discovered that she had not dreamed he was embracing her. Somehow during the night she had ended up virtually sitting on Nicholas’s lap. Hoping none of the other passengers had noticed, she surreptitiously extracted herself from his arms and hurriedly tried to straighten her clothing.
She felt herself still blushing when the carriage turned sharply into the courtyard of an inn and came to a stop. Immediately the door was opened and the steps let down. Then the coachman bellowed that they had forty minutes to break their fast in Grantham before the coach set forth again, and that they had better be prompt and keep their wits about them because the mails waited for no one.
There was an immediate scramble of passengers, pushing and shoving to be the first through the door, and automatically Joanna shrank back into her corner. Nicholas also avoided the general rush, and when they were alone, she dared peek at him.
He was unshaven, the stubble on his face appearing golden in the early-morning sun, and his hair was tousled. Other than that, he looked much better than anyone had a right to look after sleeping all night on the road.
Knowing how much he hated conversation before breakfast, she postponed the myriad of questions that sprang to her mind, such as exactly why he was so determined to look after her even after she had made it clear—or at least she thought she had made it clear—that she no longer needed the protection of a brother.
They were definitely not the kind of questions one wished to discuss in front of total strangers, nor the kind of question one should bludgeon a man with when he was still groggy from sleep.
So she decided when he helped her down from the carriage and escorted her into the George, that she would postpone satisfying her curiosity a little longer, until ... oh, dear, there would probably not be an opportunity to be private with Nicholas until they reached Edinburgh ... and perhaps not even there, since she would then have to assume her role of companion.
Really, Lady Letitia’s plan had a great many weaknesses, in spite of the fact that she had assured Joanna that every possible contingency had been allowed for.
“I want to hire a private parlor,” Nicholas growled beside her—not addressing her, of course, but the landlord, who immediately beckoned a maid to lead them up the stairs.
“But we have only—” Hurrying after him, Joanna started to remind him of the shortness of their stopover, but then she realized it would probably not take any longer to eat in private than it would to share the communal board in the common room.
Meekly she followed Nicholas to the room, which was a bit on the smallish side, but clean. The maid left them at once to fetch their food and, at Nicholas’s order, a basin of water and some towels.
Nicholas immediately sat down in the largest chair, stretched his legs out in front of him, and appeared to fall asleep again. It was all Joanna could do not to shake him awake and demand he explain why, if he did not love her, he was going to so much trouble—why he was putting himself out to such a degree when he could be home sleeping much more comfortably in his own bed.
Lady Letitia had said such concern was a sign that Nicholas’s affections were engaged, and she did appear to know everything ... but then, some of the things she knew were merely the result of having people like Miss Hepden confide secrets to her. Lady Letitia was not actually omniscient. She could not, in fact, actually know what thoughts were in Nicholas’s head—or what emotions were in his heart.
There was a light scratching at the door, and Joanna opened it for the maid, who brought in hot rolls, boiled eggs, and, most welcome of all, a steaming pot of tea.
Despite the bubbles of excitement and nervousness tickling her insides, Joanna discovered she had a hearty appetite, and the smells of hot bread were quite enticing.
Having had previous experience traveling with Nicholas, she made no attempt at small talk. He ate like a soldier—quickly and efficiently—but she was only halfway done with her meal when the maid returned to inform them that the passengers were now boarding.
Before Joanna could move, Nicholas grasped her wrist, easily holding her in place. “We are not going any farther,” he growled, his mood clear
ly not improved by the breakfast. “I’ll be damned if I’m going all the way to Scotland and back.”
The maid, who had started clearing the table, paused in her labors to stare at them with open curiosity. “Has you changed your mind about eloping, then?”
“We are not eloping,” Joanna said firmly, trying unsuccessfully to peel Nicholas’s fingers away from her arm. “I am going to Edinburgh to take up a position as companion to an elderly lady. This gentleman is merely tagging along—to what purpose, I have no idea.”
Nicholas ignored her words and her efforts to extract herself from his grasp. Instead he spoke directly to the maid. “Do you see anything wrong with me that would cause a lady to hold me in disgust?”
“You, sir? Oh, no, sir, you’re a proper fine one. No girl would turn down the likes of you.”
“Well, this chit has. Told me twice point-blank she wouldn’t marry me.”
“Nicholas!” Joanna started to protest, but he ignored her completely.
“The first time I compromised her, she got hysterical when I informed her we would have to get married. Then yesterday when I said she would do better to marry me instead of dashing off to Scotland, she as much as told me she’d rather fetch and carry for an old lady than warm my bed.”
Joanna was beyond speech—that he had the effrontery to speak so to a perfect stranger! The maid, however, was not so handicapped. She batted her eyes at Nicholas and smiled in a way that indicated she would be not only willing but also eager to “warm his bed.”
“Oh, indeed, sir, it is beyond understanding.”
Reaching the end of her patience, Joanna said, “Leave us!” in such sharp tones that the maid quickly picked up her tray and backed out of the room.
With a slight tug on her wrist, Nicholas pulled Joanna down onto his lap. “What are you going to do?” she asked, her voice no longer firm, but surprisingly high and squeaky.
The Resolute Runaway Page 22
