The Lady Is Daring

by Megan Frampton

  “Do come in for a cup of tea,” the woman said. “It’s the least I can do for taking me to the shops.”

  “The horses needed exercise,” the man replied. “But I’ll take a cuppa anyway,” he said as they stepped inside the house.

  Bennett glanced toward the carriage, realizing he was suddenly very tired. And that there was a carriage right there, with seats and everything.

  Nobody could hunt him to ground in the carriage, could they? If he could just rest for a bit, he could return home and make his plans. Plans that did not include marriage or him spending his life making money to fund his father’s lifestyle.

  Good luck with that, a voice said inside his head.

  Shut up, another voice replied. Likely the voice that had drunk all the wine.

  Bennett moved to the side of the carriage, waiting until the boy who held the horses was on the other side, engaged in whistling some sort of tune.

  He opened the door and slid inside, conscious of not making too much noise.

  The carriage was indeed sumptuous, with plush red velvet cushioning that looked perfect for Bennett’s head, which had started to ache.

  He now knew why he never drank to excess.

  He lay down on the cushion, propping his feet up against the carriage door, contorting his frame so as to get more comfortable.

  The next thing he knew, he felt a rumble as the carriage started to move.

  Chapter 5

  Even teatime can bring an adventure.

  Lady Ida’s Tips for the Adventurous Lady Traveler

  Ida closed the atlas and leaned back in the chair. She’d finished her tea long ago, and she knew it was past time for her to go home, but her mind was still spinning with all the possibilities.

  Should she try to reach Haltwhistle by train?

  The only impediment there was that she was a young single lady who had no idea how to navigate any kind of transportation that wasn’t her father’s carriage.

  Ida Ignoramus, species Anglia Dux. But she was intelligent, so she could figure it out if she needed to.

  Although that did seem daunting. And dangerous. And likely many other words that started with D.

  Disastrous, daring, doubtful.

  But she was dauntless. And domineering, on occasion. As her sisters would affirm. As well as determined.

  She could also write directly to Della and send her the funds Pearl had given her so she and Nora could return to London.

  But since Della had given no indication that she wanted to return home, that could mean that instead of coming to London, Della would just leave Haltwhistle with all the money to set up somewhere else and the search would have to start all over again.

  If she were to write a letter directly to Della, let her know how much they all missed her, then their sister might agree to come back. But Ida couldn’t risk the chance of Della just haring off when she realized that they knew where she was.

  She could take her horse out riding one day and then just keep going. But what would happen when she had to stop? Or if her horse threw a shoe, or had some other mishap that Ida couldn’t possibly fix?

  She was a fine horsewoman, and could drive a carriage well, for that matter, but she had never paid attention to any horse maintenance issues. How did they sleep? Did they eat anything but grass?

  She’d need to look into that later.

  Plus, there was the fact that a young lady who rode anywhere but the park was in clear danger.

  And she couldn’t carry a weapon, what with being on horseback and all. That would draw comment. Never mind she didn’t own any weapons, unless one were to count a particularly egregious hat pin that was her sworn enemy.

  She rose from the chair slowly, wishing she could just stay locked in Mr. Beechcroft’s library. But that wouldn’t help get Della back either.

  She needed to go home and think some more. Until something brilliant and obvious occurred to her.

  “Leaving, my lady?” the butler said as she opened the door, stepping out into the hallway. The hallway, unlike the library, was ablaze in candles, and Ida felt blinded for a moment.

  “I will call someone to escort you home,” the butler continued, snapping his fingers.

  It was on Ida’s lips to say not to bother, but that was foolhardy. She’d rarely ever ventured anywhere on her own; she should not be traipsing about London with her head filled with escape plans.

  At the very least there should be a servant with her as she traipsed about London with her head filled with escape plans.

  Much safer.

  Ida the Practical Escape Artist strikes again. She smiled at her own wry thought.

  “Miss Calder will take you home in Mr. Beechcroft’s carriage,” the butler said, gesturing to an older woman who was clearly the housekeeper walking into the hallway.

  “Thank you,” Ida replied.

  The two walked outside, where Ida saw the carriage waiting. A boy held the horses’ heads.

  “Go find Smithton, he should be in the stables. I’ll mind the horses,” the housekeeper directed. “It will be just a few moments, my lady,” she said to Ida.

  The two waited, Ida’s mind churning with thoughts and plans of what to do. It was one thing to know one’s sisters were fully confident she was going to do something; it was another thing entirely to know just what to do.

  There was also now the added complication of Lord Bradford. Her mother was usually haphazard about tracking Ida’s whereabouts, but now that there was a potential husband to be snagged, she would likely want Ida to be at home to welcome her suitor. She knew it was close to five o’clock, the time Lord Bradford was supposed to come to tea.

  She needed to find Della. And she needed to escape her mother’s machinations.

  And she needed to sort out her own future.

  Plus, she had her sisters’ confidence and her sister’s money. And time was of the essence.

  “I can’t find him.” The boy had returned, out of breath from running.

  “Well. I imagine he might have returned to the kitchen.” The housekeeper glanced at Ida as though unsure what to do.

  “I’ll wait here. I know it won’t be long,” Ida said in a reassuring tone, though her head was spinning.

  “Fine, I’ll just go find him. Tom, you hold the horses.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the boy said.

  The housekeeper walked back up the steps and entered.

  The boy walked to the other side of the carriage so that Ida couldn’t see him any longer. And then she turned her exciting, dangerous, and altogether scandalous idea into an actual escape.

  She’d done it. She had taken the carriage, navigated her way out of town, and was heading north. To Della. She had funds, she had a warm cloak on, she had a purpose, and she was alone. Escaping.

  It was marvelous.

  Only her marvel turned swiftly to fright when she heard the first thump.

  Followed by another thump. And another.

  Thump, thump, thump.

  The sound was coming from inside the carriage. Inside. The. Carriage.

  She was not alone after all.

  What in goodness’ name was there inside? A large dog? A particularly rambunctious cat?

  A person?

  Please don’t let it be a person, she thought. She’d far rather try to subdue an animal than speak to an actual person.

  She glanced around, her spine tingling as fear raced through her entire body. Very much regretting she hadn’t grabbed a weapon—even something as ineffectual as a hat pin. The sky was dark. It was probably very close to five o’clock.

  Was Lord Bradford already at her parents’ house? Waiting for her so she could not speak or otherwise reveal her personality?

  And was it preferable to be taking tea with the toe-stepper—knowing he was about to propose—or be on your own in the impending darkness as an unknown thing made loud thumping noises?

  And how terrible was it that she might prefer the latter?

 
; She slowed the carriage to a stop, looking around for any kind of possible weapon.

  Unless she were able to remove one of the horses’ bridles and loop it over the thing, whatever it was, she did not have anything with which to defend herself. Only her sharp wit.

  But she hardly thought a long-winded explanation of Linnaeus’s Systema Naturae would do much to dissuade a potential assailant. Unless she were able to actually bore him until he expired. Cause of death? Taedium Mortem.

  The door opened, and she braced herself, gripping the side of the seat on either side of her.

  A figure tumbled out, a person who did not seem intent on attack, at least. More in need of a good brushing.

  “Lord Carson!” she exclaimed as she saw who had emerged.

  He stared up at her as though in shock—well, that makes two of us, she thought—his hair ruffled, his cravat loose, his jacket rumpled.

  He still looked undeniably handsome, just less sleek. Definitely more confused.

  Still handsome. How did he manage that?

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, making her mouth drop open.

  “What am I doing here?” She waved toward the horses and the road. “I am driving this carriage, as you can see, but I have no idea how you came to be inside it.” She stiffened as she considered it. “Did my family send you?”

  That would be the most humiliating possibility, if that were true. Sending the one gentleman who had dodged the Howlett marriage bullet after her? Mother, you wouldn’t, she thought.

  Lord Carson looked confused, then his face cleared and he made a rueful noise. Not quite a snort, but something expressing derision.

  She should be relieved he hadn’t been sent specifically after her. Yes, she should. That she wasn’t entirely relieved felt disturbing.

  “No, of course not,” he said, his tone revealing just how ludicrous an idea it was. She suppressed an urge to cringe at his scorn. “Why would they? You and I are Lord Carson and a Howlett daughter, you know how well those pairings have worked out.”

  Ida folded her arms over her chest, her heart slowing as her brain assessed the possible danger to her person. None. Lord Carson was a gentleman. A gentleman who had never paid attention to her until yesterday. “Never mind that. The thing is, you have to leave.” She made a shooing gesture. “Return to London.”

  He put his hands on his hips and leaned back to regard her, his expression clearly argumentative. “No, I do not have to leave. And I will not.” He gestured toward her, his arm making a sweeping motion that managed to convey both incredulity and disdain.

  She’d be impressed if she weren’t so startled by his presence.

  “You are clearly doing something you should not be.” His firm tone made her feel suddenly guilty, and then she was annoyed at herself for feeling that way. He was not in authority over her. He just needed to recognize that, and the fact that he had no responsibility toward her. “You are my sister-in-law, and a young lady, and it is my duty to protect you.”

  He sounded so sure of himself, and for a moment Ida almost agreed with him—damn his persuasiveness—but she stopped herself, instead hearing the words pouring like a tumult from her mouth.

  “I have no need of your protection, my lord, and I am certain you have far better things to do than accompany me to where I am going. We are only about ten miles from town. It should not be difficult for you to find your way back.”

  The last thing she wanted on this dangerous and thrilling adventure was a gentleman to tell her how it should be done. This was her adventure, damn it, not his.

  He didn’t answer, not right away. He did, however, grab hold of the carriage and swing himself up onto the seat beside her. She started at him, openmouthed. Had he not heard anything she’d said?

  She might as well ask him. It wasn’t as though she cared at all what he thought about her. Or that her reputation hadn’t preceded her.

  “Have you not heard anything I’ve said?” she said in an outraged tone. “The part where you should return to London and I will continue on my journey?”

  He stretched out in the seat, folding his arms over his chest and regarding her with an amused stare. A look that made it clear he might’ve heard about her, but he would not be intimidated.

  Oddly, that made her feel better. “I heard you, but I will not be leaving your side.” He shrugged. “I could not live with myself if I knew you to be out here on your own.” He lifted a questioning brow. “I suppose I cannot persuade you to return to London with me?” He made a show of glancing at the horses and the side of the carriage. “Because I am fairly certain neither the horses nor the carriage belong to you, and I know you don’t want the scandal of having purloined someone else’s property.”

  “If the only thing keeping you out here is your fear that I be arrested for theft, I assure you that Mr. Beechcroft would have gladly lent me his carriage if he knew I was in need of it.”

  “But he didn’t,” Lord Carson pointed out, truthfully if also annoyingly. “And I am also concerned about your safety. As I mentioned just a few moments ago.” Do keep up, Lady Ida. He hadn’t said those words, but he might as well have.

  Had anyone ever intimated that Ida was not capable of following a conversation? Nobody had ever even dared to suggest she was not the most intelligent lady in the room.

  Hmph.

  “I appreciate that, my lord,” Ida said slowly, trying to remain calm in the face of his implacable refusal, “but what I want most is for you to get out of this carriage.” She could not risk anyone from their world seeing them together, given their family’s history. She would be damned if she’d risk everything to find Della, just to end up married to Lord Marital Evadus here. “You don’t have to return to London, if you’re bent on escape.” She paused as another suggestion occurred to her. “I can even give you a lift to the next village, if that is your desire. But you cannot accompany me for the entirety of this trip.” There. She’d presented some options, acknowledged that his goals were valid, and stated her own wishes quite firmly.

  Aristotle would be proud of her argument.

  “Fine.”

  He’d capitulated far too easily. He hadn’t asked what trip she was on, why she was alone, and how long she was planning on being out. Driving a carriage she’d clearly stolen.

  “Fine?” she echoed, hearing the suspicion in her tone.

  “Fine.” He sounded sincere. But then again, he was renowned for his ability to get along with anyone, if it meant he could persuade them to do something for him.

  With the notable exception of Ida’s sisters. She’d just have to remind him of the possible danger to his marital status if he continued to insist on accompanying her. That would definitely do the trick.

  She brightened at just how quickly he’d desert her once she reminded him of who he was, and how close he was to marrying yet another Howlett sister, something it seemed was the absolute last thing he wished to do.

  Thank goodness I am so unmarriageable, she thought ruefully.

  Yes, his presence would mean she was safer—but it would also mean she would never be able to escape. Because he was ridiculously honorable and responsible, and he’d insist on marrying her, even though neither one of them wanted that.

  She would prefer to try to protect herself rather than barter her future for the next week or so of safety.

  “Do you need me to drive?” he asked in a mild tone.

  “No, thank you,” she said. “I can do it by myself.” I have been doing it until you woke up, or whatever it was you were doing in there.

  “Of course you can,” he replied in an amused tone of voice.

  “How did you learn anyway?” he asked in a conversational tone.

  She picked up the reins, shot him one last glowering look—not that he seemed to notice, drat it all—and urged the horses forward.

  “I know a great many things, my lord,” she said vaguely. It was not an explanation, but it was an answer.

  “
That you do,” he replied, and it did not sound like a compliment. How on earth did she wind up here with him, of all people?

  The sooner they came to a town, the sooner she could be rid of him. If he wouldn’t leave on his own volition, she’d make sure he understood the risk he’d be taking.

  Lady Ida didn’t sound as though she trusted his answer when he’d agreed to leave her company, nor had she explained just how she came to be such a good driver. A smart woman not to trust him—she shouldn’t, not when Bennett had no intention of allowing her to continue her trip without him. Whether or not she had excellent driving skills.

  Even though he had no idea where she was headed or why she would do something so foolhardy in the first place. He’d agreed to her so quickly because he could forecast that otherwise they’d be stuck in the road arguing rather than moving forward.

  “Was this your reaction to our conversation about escape?” he said after a few moments of silence. Apparently she could remain quiet, even though it was clear she was agitated. Most people would continue to argue.

  She seemed to have many unusual talents, not least of which was the ability to speak her mind directly and do something as rash and brazen as steal a carriage. Or not speak her mind when she could tell it wouldn’t make an iota of difference to the outcome.

  He admired that. He knew firsthand how difficult it was to veer from one’s chosen course, and for a young lady, that veering must be even more difficult. That she’d emerged from it so wholly her own person spoke to her strength and her character.

  She made one of those snorting noises again. “Hardly. I’ve longed for escape for as long as I’ve been aware of who I am and the world I live in.” She glanced at him, the hint of an amused smile on her face. Apparently now that she thought she might be getting rid of him she could afford to be amused. “But I have to ask you the same question. Were you escaping from something, my lord? Spurred on perhaps by our conversation of yesterday?”

  He thought of Lord Mayweather and his daughter, thought of all the Carson-hunters who had him in their sights.