Who was she, and why was she sleeping in his coach? Where were her maid and the rest of her party?
Morley glanced out the window, but through the rain he could see nothing of the landmarks around him, so he couldn’t determine how far they’d traveled. If they were close to the next stop, he could send someone to the last inn to notify the young woman’s companions. He doubted Smithers would appreciate being asked to turn around at this time of night.
As he pondered what to do with her, she stirred, a slight gasp escaping her lips. She shifted her position, practically falling from the seat before her arms flew out to catch her balance. Morley jumped to her rescue and caught her, holding her close for a moment before setting her on the cushioned seat.
She smelled heavenly, like a spring breeze through his mother’s garden, a blending of flowers and innocence.
He quickly backed away to his own side of the coach. “Who are you?”
The young lady tugged one of the blankets across her like a shield. “Who are you?”
Stifling a groan, he grimaced. She was too much like his sisters, which meant it could be some time before he had the answers he sought. “As this is my carriage and not the post chaise, I believe this entitles me to ask who has stowed away on board.”
She smiled and her arms relaxed, letting the blanket drop to her lap. “You must be Archie. Ellie has told me so much about you.”
He didn’t fight the groan this time. The chit was one of his sister’s playmates. A glance at her delicate features, and then at the rounded bosom encased so tightly in her pelisse, forced him to amend the thought. When had his sisters grown old enough to become young ladies?
He cleared his throat and tried to take control of the situation before him. “I am Morley.”
The chit laughed lightly. “I beg your pardon, Lord Morley. It is only that I feel I know you as well as my own brother, Leander.”
He knew that name. Leander Thornhill, Lord Penlow, was the cousin of his good friend Nick, Baron Edgeworth. Now, which of Leander’s sisters was this? “Ah, then you are Lady…?”
“Harriet.” She laughed, but he failed to see what amused her.
“And did you mistake my carriage for that of your father’s?”
She shook her head, sending her curls fluttering about her face. “I hoped Ellie was at the inn, but this is much better. Much better!”
“How so?”
“Grandpapa can never force me to marry a dullard now.”
Her words settled over him like a black hood. He fought the sensation of a noose that followed. He reached for his cane and thumped on the roof.
“What are you doing?” Lady Harriet clutched at the blankets and sat up straighter.
“I’m having Smithers turn around so we may take you back to the inn. You were traveling with your family, I presume?”
“Oh, no, please, my lord. We can’t go back there. That will ruin everything.”
“Do you think me a patsy who will sit by and let your father or the Duke of Danby force me to marry you? If we return now, perhaps your absence will not have been noticed.”
Lady Harriet slumped against the back of the bench. “Oh, dear. I hadn’t thought of what Papa will say. I only meant Grandpapa wouldn’t insist on my marrying whomever he has chosen, given that I’ve spent the night alone with you. I suppose I didn’t think that through.”
She sighed and looked out the window as Smithers opened the small door behind his seat and called down. “My lord?”
“How close are we to the next stop, Smithers?”
“A few hours, my lord.”
“As soon as you can safely do so, we must turn around and return to the inn.”
“Very good, sir.”
The door snapped shut and Morley turned his thoughts to getting out of this situation as gracefully as possible. He was not ready to marry anyone. Not the marquess’s daughter, nor the Thornhill chit.
~ 3 ~
Harriet stared into the darkness outside the carriage window and wondered how she would redeem herself from this pickle. Why hadn’t she enquired as to who had arrived in the Wrenthorpe carriage before climbing aboard? The night was so chilly, and the blankets on the seat so enticing, she’d drifted off to sleep before discovering who her traveling companions would be.
Blast! This entire mess made it painfully clear why she was the good child in the family. Miriam would never have attempted such a folly without thorough planning. And Lee—well, Lee was always up to something behind their parents’ backs, and she wasn’t truly certain she knew the half of what he’d done.
Now here she sat with Lord Morley, quite compromised and with nothing to show for it. Not even a kiss! With another heavy sigh, she turned to see what Morley was doing, only to find him studying her. He didn’t even pretend anything to the contrary, nor did he glance away once their eyes met. His face held no expression that she could discern in the darkness.
She realized he could be asleep for all she saw, but he turned to the window and pushed the curtain aside. “It’s quite miserable out,” she said by way of conversation.
“Quite.”
“Are you headed to London for the holidays?”
“Bath, actually. My aunt is too set in her ways to travel, and she begged me to visit her.”
Bath. Harriet imagined there were myriad places in Bath to wait out Grandpapa’s wrath. That would give her time to develop a better scheme. She practically bounced off her seat in excitement at the possibility of going there. “Will Lady Eleanor be visiting your aunt also?”
“No. All my sisters are at the family seat.”
She thought about that for a moment. As the heir, she assumed he should always be in attendance at family gatherings. But then Lee tried to miss as many as possible. Something about wild oats, he usually told her with his familiar laugh that always made her feel she was missing something quite obvious. “You must miss them all when you visit your aunt. I would think her celebration would be rather dull in comparison.”
He laughed. “Dull. Yes, delightfully so. My two older sisters have seven children between them. Thankfully, Lady Eleanor and the other four younger sisters have yet to marry, but there are altogether too many voices in the Great Hall when the little ones join us from the nursery.”
“How delightful that must be,” Harriet cried. “My own family is nothing like that. Lee plays the pianoforte while Miriam and I sing, then Mama reads from the Gospel according to St. Matthew. I can’t wait until I have nieces and nephews to play with.”
“You are welcome to mine.” Morley suddenly cleared his throat as if he realized how close they were to the possibility of his relatives becoming hers.
Harriet tried to remember what Ellie had said about her brother, but nothing came to mind. She couldn’t recall any stories as such, but still had the general feeling she had known Archie forever. Lord Morley, she corrected. If Papa or Grandpapa caught her calling him by name, they would never believe there was nothing between her and the lord.
And as desperate as she was not to marry whomever Grandpapa had chosen, she cared too much for the brotherly image she held of the man across the coach from her. She would not try to trap him.
“It’s surprising we’ve never met,” she said. “Ellie and I spend all our time together during the Season.”
“Not surprising at all, given I avoid balls and the usual entertainments.”
“So does Lee. Or maybe he’s only avoiding the ones where Mama will be attending with Miriam and me.”
“Well. Lady Eleanor has been out for two years. Have you also?”
“Yes.”
“And have either of you found yourselves a beau? I imagine the young bucks must be fighting over both your hands in the ballroom.”
Harriet giggled. “We are having so much fun we refuse to consider anyone for at least another Season. Oh, but you mustn’t let on to Lord and Lady Wrenthorpe. Ellie would be so angry with me for telling you.”
His smile mi
ght have warmed her heart if she had been able to see it more clearly, but as it was, it sent butterflies skittering about in her belly. If he would only make an appearance at one of the balls, it would surely become a crush. She recalled having seen a miniature of Archie a few years past and giggling with Ellie about how handsome he was. Perhaps she was lucky they were in the dark carriage. The roguish smile he was known for would certainly ruin her heart for any of the other young men she would meet.
Then she remembered the reason she was in such a predicament. Her grandpapa’s summons. She might not have the opportunity to meet more young men if the duke had his way.
And the Duke of Danby always had his way.
Harriet sighed and turned back to the empty blackness beyond her window.
“Such a heavy sigh for one so young. Do you fear your father’s reaction upon discovering you missing?”
She swallowed the lump that suddenly threatened her ability to breathe. Papa would have her locked in her room for months, she was certain. Assuming he didn’t simply hand her over to the duke’s chosen bridegroom. “It’s not my papa I fear. He will forgive me eventually, once Mama reminds him how she defied her father, the duke, by marrying Papa. But the duke…I’m not at all certain what he’ll do.”
As if the duke himself had far-reaching powers, the carriage suddenly began to sway and the back end seemed determined to pass the front. Harriet hit her head on the window, the blow to her head ringing slightly louder than the crack from outside.
Harriet flew onto the floor when the right side of the coach dropped to the roadway. She tried to catch herself, fearing the door would fly open. The heavy weight of her companion slammed into her, knocking her breathless.
When the conveyance finally stopped moving, she tried to crawl out from beneath Lord Morley. He also scrambled to right himself.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, helping her onto the tilting bench.
“I’m not certain. My head hurts but I’m speaking, so it mustn’t be severe. What happened?”
“I would guess we lost a wheel.” He braced himself so as not to fall out the doorway when he opened it. “Smithers!”
“I’m sorry, my lord. The wheel hub seems to have cracked when I lost control in the mud.” The driver moved with a slight limp as he rounded the carriage and inspected the damage. “We can’t go anywhere until the wheel is replaced.”
Cold, damp wind blew in around Archie. Harriet shivered at the chill and the ominous news, pulling the blankets around her. What would they do now?
Her companion ran his fingers through his hair in a manner more indicative of stress than concern for his appearance. He glanced over his shoulder at her before speaking again to Smithers, who stood shivering in the rain, his hat drooping severely. “Take one of the horses and ride on to the next town. See what sort of coach you can acquire there.”
The man tugged his hat brim and nodded. “Yes, my lord.”
Archie pulled the door closed and staggered across the space to the front bench where he perched on the edge of the seat and braced a hand against the window to keep from falling. “Well, it would appear we are delayed a bit.”
Somehow, Harriet couldn’t find it in her to be disappointed.
~ 4 ~
Morley felt his backside sliding on the smooth leather bench and pushed his heels into the floor in a futile effort to retain his seat. “It’s no use.” Bracing his hand against the side wall, he rose and nearly fell into Lady Harriet’s lap.
He caught himself against the back of the bench, his face inches from hers. He held his breath. She gasped but did not flinch, as if she trusted him not to hurt her. Foolish chit. She was obviously unaware of all the things that could happen while alone in a carriage with a man, even beyond the chance of freezing to death before Smithers appeared with the hired coach.
Or had she intended just this sort of misadventure? Would her father appear at any moment, threatening Morley’s life if he didn’t marry her the instant a special license could be acquired?
Realizing he was still staring into her eyes, he pressed against the wall and straightened as much as possible, given the angle of the conveyance. “It would seem I must share this bench with you.”
“Oh. Yes. Of course.” Her words had a breathy, dreamy air.
“I believe I should sit in the corner, there, as I am so much larger than you.” He lifted the blankets and offered her a hand up. She had such a slight build, he easily lifted her and helped her remain standing while he took his seat. Lady Harriet struggled to keep some distance between them on the bench, but it was impossible. He smiled. “I’m afraid you’ll have to sit next to me, at least until Smithers returns. Just think of me as your brother.”
Her eyes stole a glance down his person before she turned her head away. “Oh, but you look nothing like Lee.”
The emphasis on that word intrigued him, for some reason making him unusually flirtatious. “Oh? And is he three feet tall and equally wide?”
Her laugh sent warmth coursing through him. “No, that wasn’t what I meant. Lee is quite fair where you are dark. And quite slender, where you are—”
“If you dare say that I am the rotund one, I shall dump you out into the mud to wait with the horse Smithers left behind.”
She pushed at his arm as if to distance them, the effort useless given his position against the wall. “You are as cruel as Ellie always said! I was going to say you have a much more—oh! But I mustn’t say such a thing.”
Now he was dying to know what she meant to say, which completely surprised him. He rarely considered whether a woman found him attractive or not. He received enough attention from widows, and a few matrons whose husbands were still living, to know he was not lacking in whatever it was that women found desirable in a man. What did Lady Harriet look for in a husband?
That question stopped him cold.
Smithers had better be riding like the devil. Staying in close quarters with Lady Harriet Thornhill could be dangerous to his freedom.
Lady Harriet’s laughter slowed, and she let loose a sigh. “This is all my fault. I do apologize, Lord Morley, for damaging your carriage.”
Anger flared again in his gut. “You? What did you do, sabotage the wheel?”
“No, but if I hadn’t stolen away here, you wouldn’t have had any problems. All my plans end up going awry. I don’t know why I even considered trying to thwart Grandpapa.”
He clenched his teeth and tried to swallow the bitter emotion. “If the wheel was damaged, it would have broken whether or not you were aboard.”
Her weight settled against him. He adjusted the blankets to cover them both and tried to ignore the scent of sweet pea flowers that stirred whenever the blankets moved. He inhaled deeper, finding the perfume both innocent and alluring at the same time.
Sweet temptation.
Morley shifted on the bench, but that only served to bring Lady Harriet more firmly against his side. His arm, pinned between them, had the sensation of pins and needles. He lifted it and placed it on her shoulders. “Forgive me, but there is nowhere else to put my arm.”
“It’s all right.”
No, it wasn’t. There was nothing about the evening that was right, nor about the thoughts stirring from her nearness. He wanted to kiss her. Merely a quick peck to discover if she tasted as sweet as she smelled. He must try to distract himself. “When do you suppose your father will discover your absence?”
She yawned. “Not until morning. I placed the pillows under the bedding so my mother’s nurse will assume I am sleeping.”
He smiled. “I didn’t know that was a talent most young women required. The ability to slip out unnoticed late at night.”
“Why, those of us with brothers have the opportunity to learn most skills. We simply must work harder at not being discovered in our studies.”
“I shudder to think what my parents must suffer, if my sisters followed in my footsteps.”
“Ellie said—oh, I shouldn’t tell
you. She didn’t swear me to secrecy, but I’m certain she never imagined I’d be talking to you.”
A thought struck him then. “Did my sister put you up to this?”
“What, hiding in your carriage? But I told you, I thought she was traveling to London, not you.”
“So you said. Why is it you were fleeing your family in the middle of the night? And in the middle of nowhere?”
“It’s Grandpapa’s fault. The Duke of Danby summoned us to his home. One might assume he is on his deathbed and wishes to spend his final Christmas with all of his grandchildren. But I know that isn’t true.”
Morley recalled Nick receiving a similar summons in recent years. Perhaps the duke was a sickly man? “Has he been ill?”
“Not that I am aware. He claims to be dying rather often, but he has made a miraculous recovery each time we arrive.”
“Perhaps he’s lonely.”
“Ha! He could easily command an audience to attend him if that were all he required. No, I know why he demands our presence. He has chosen a man for me to marry.”
That explained it. Morley imagined his sisters’ reaction to being told whom they would marry. They would not quietly slip away. Not Eleanor, at least. She would stand up to their father and refuse him outright.
And their father would comply with her wishes. While he gave no quarter where men were concerned, he had a soft heart for his daughters. All six of them.
The weight of the young woman at his side grew heavier, and his body responded as expected. He hardened uncomfortably and wished she were one of the widows of his acquaintance. How satisfying it would be to lift her onto his lap and ease inside her.
Bollocks! Not only was she a lady, she was his sister’s friend. He must do everything in his power to make certain she found her way back to her father untouched. Yet he couldn’t help looking down at her.
A Summons From Yorkshire (Regency Christmas Summons Collection 1) Page 7
