Miss Armistead Makes Her Choice

by Heidi Ashworth

  “Pardon me, Sir, but I have a most pressing need for this horse,” Colin explained as he freed the man and swung himself up into the saddle. “I cannot promise it shall be returned but if you present yourself at Lloyd-Jones House on Berkeley Square, my father will reimburse you.” He rather doubted the man followed a word of what Colin said, but that could not be helped; an innocent maid was about to suffer at the hands of a scoundrel of the worst kind and Colin was having none of it.

  Having little idea of the actual hour, he rode at breakneck speed for Lady Augusta’s townhouse in hopes that he would arrive before Cruikshank. However, once he had attained his goal, he hadn’t any more idea if Elizabeth were still in the house or if she had been deceived by her would-be captor. Colin ran down the area steps and made certain that she was not waiting in the shadows with her bags. When he saw that she was not, he banged on the kitchen door in hopes that the boot boy would not be too frightened to answer.

  Once again, Colin was blessed with good fortune.

  “What is it, Gov’?” the drowsy boot boy asked. “Is London burnin’ or wot?”

  “No, child, something far worse. Go and fetch the butler and then wake the groom and have him hitch up the freshest horses, mind you, to the speediest carriage and be quick about it!”

  The boy was off with gratifying speed and Colin sank onto the bench by the low-banked fire to wait. He thought on the irony of his situation; Miss Ponsonby had been deceived just the same by the man who ruined her; Julian, Lord Trevelin. Colin had been unwilling to marry the unfortunate young lady when he learned of her plight. Surely the abduction of Elizabeth might be perceived as a punishment from above for his lack of devotion to Miss Ponsonby.

  With firm resolve, he took himself in hand; the first order of business was to determine whether or not Elizabeth was still in the house. There came a clatter from the passage and he sprang to his feet as the boot boy and a man in a nightcap barreled into the room.

  “Sir, what is the meaning of this?” the man demanded.

  “Is Miss Armistead above stairs?” Colin asked as patiently as he could. “Hold, boy,” he called as the boot boy streaked past on his way out to the mews. “Did you see Miss Armistead leave the house by way of the kitchen door tonight?”

  “No, Gov’!”

  “Do be certain! She might have sworn you to secrecy, I know, but it was me she was to meet outside, only, she is not there. I fear someone means her harm,” he said, turning to the butler. “I must know if she is yet in her room!”

  The butler’s eyes grew round, doubtless appalled at whom her rescuer should be. Colin imagined he made a fearsome picture, bruised and bleeding as he suspected he must be, his clothing wet and the knees of his trousers stained with grass. And, yet, to Colin’s vast relief, the butler chose to put his faith in him.

  “Go and have the carriage readied!” the butler shouted to the boot boy and hastened out to the passage with his candle held high. Colin took a lighted lantern from the table and ran after the butler who ascended two flights of stairs at impressive speed. When he threw open Elizabeth’s chamber door, Colin thrust the butler aside and held the lantern up to shine on the bed. It was empty. The room had been turned out, clothes and belongings draped across every surface. There on her pillow was the note addressed to ‘Mama’.

  She was gone. He could hardly believe it was true and was grateful that he had already determined what was to be done next. “Unless they have already been wakened by the noise,” he instructed the butler, “let the ladies sleep. They can find the note in the morning; it contains better news than the truth. I shall go and fetch her back before they know anything is amiss.”

  “Yes, sir,” the butler said with a bow that sent his nightcap askew and was all the more ridiculous in that it was performed with precision in a nightshirt and slippers.

  Colin raced through the house and prayed that the carriage had been brought round. To his joy, it appeared at the corner of the square and he ran to meet it. “Are you up for a wild ride?” he inquired of the groom. “There is a great deal of money in it for you.”

  “Yes, Gov’! Where are we off to?”

  “Gretna Green!” Colin shouted. He vaulted into the carriage as it clattered off and fell to pondering on his choices. He knew a single rider would have been faster, but Elizabeth could hardly be brought home on the back of a horse. With luck, Cruikshank would assume he was safe from pursuit and would be taking his time. The thought brought fresh horrors to mind, however, and Colin decided it was best to dwell on other matters.

  The subject of his wedding seemed a suitable alternative. Now that Elizabeth need no longer consider Mr. Cruikshank’s feelings, an elopement seemed too far beyond the pale. They would be married in church and Elizabeth would have the wedding of which she had always dreamed. His thoughts took a new direction when he heard the crack of the whip. As the carriage lurched and surged ahead, he recalled that he had allowed himself to become lost in contemplation.

  Putting his head out of the window, he surveyed the landscape in hopes of spotting a carriage on the road ahead and was appalled to see a tiny figure as it toiled along the verge. The child was loaded down with baggage and he wondered what sort of devil would turn anyone out onto the road in the dead of night. It wasn’t until the carriage pulled closer that the truth dawned on him; the devil was Cruikshank.

  “Faster!” he shouted to the driver as he banged on the side of the carriage. Whether or not the driver heard him Colin could not say, but the groom cracked the whip and the horses quickened their pace. Colin returned his attention to whom he prayed was Elizabeth and perceived how she struggled with her bags. At last she abandoned them and began to run.

  “Elizabeth, stop, I am coming for you!” he shouted but the air as it rushed past the carriage tore his words away. He fretted as to whether or not she was able to ascertain his identity and decided it hardly mattered; she would know soon enough.

  When they had drawn near enough to her that the groom found it needful to rein in the horses, Colin jumped out of the carriage and ran to meet her. “Elizabeth!” he cried and she dashed into his arms, laughing and crying all at once.

  “Oh, Colin! I believed him to be you! How he knew to be there, I don’t know, it doesn’t matter,” she said, shaking her head, “as long as you believe that I would never have willingly gone with him!”

  “Shush, my darling, it’s quite all right,” he soothed, torn by the desire to laugh at her artlessness and his wish to ease her fears. “Of course you thought it was me. The groom is collecting your things and then we shall go home.”

  She melted against him and he cradled her close until her trembling ceased, whereupon he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the safety of the carriage. Once inside, he thought to lay her on the opposite bench but she clung to him so that he could not separate her from his grasp. It was just as well; he would enjoy the return journey far more with her in his lap.

  Gradually, she began to stir and he found he was full of questions. “You need fear no reprisals from me, Elizabeth, however, I find I am all agog to learn how it was that I found you trudging down the road.”

  “Why, because I wanted to get away from him, that is why!” she huffed. “I had thought you would heartily approve.”

  “Oh, I do, have no doubt on that score. Only, it seems an odd sort of abduction when the villain allows his booty to go free.”

  “Yes, well,” she said in a small voice, “he was not any more eager to be in my company as I was to be in his.”

  “Now, there is a statement that might give me cause to doubt,” he said lightly in spite of the darker questions that had begun to crowd his mind.

  “Oh, but if you had seen him with that leer on his face, you would know how very determined I was to get away from him. When he attempted to kiss me, I pulled at his hair and thrashed about so that he released me.”

  Colin willed himself to be very still as he asked, in a voice far calmer than he felt, “S
o, he did not kiss you?”

  “He did, in the beginning. He wore a cape with a hood which is how I failed to realize it was not you from the start. But when he kissed me, I knew it could not be you. As you promised, it was not the same, not in the least! I pulled back the hood and when I saw his face, I screamed loud enough to wake the dead. They would have been more welcome,” she added wryly. “He then insisted that his life was in danger and that he was in great need of money. It was when I threw my jewel box at his head that he had the carriage stopped and I wasted no time in getting out with all that I could carry.”

  “Then you are . . unharmed?” Colin asked, hardly believing it could be true.

  “Of course I am. Can you not see for yourself? Oh, but I see that you have had some sort of accident,” she murmured as she ran her fingers over his bruised jaw.

  Resisting the sudden urge to order the coachman back to Gretna Green and a speedy marriage, Colin emptied his budget on the altercation by the fountain.

  “Then you knew before I did that Mr. Cruikshank is not blind. Oh, and there is no farm. His mother is hale and hearty and lives in Dundee.”

  “I must confess I had my suspicions as to the farm. How I wish that you had learned the truth from my own lips. But you are safe, now, and in my arms, and that is more than I had a mere twenty four hours ago.”

  Rather than reply, she closed her eyes and was so silent for so long that he thought she must have again fallen asleep. The glow of the carriage lanterns lent enough light to allow him to feast on her almond shaped eyes, cream and peaches complexion and cherry red lips. The longing to kiss her grew into a nearly intolerable need, but he dared not take any action that might remind her of the trauma she had endured.

  Suddenly, she opened her eyes and looked directly up into his. “You have not yet kissed me. I walked miles in the dark of night with one thing to bear me up, the thought of your kiss when you found me,” she said in a low voice as she stroked his face with her fingers. “I pray that you are not repulsed by the thought of his lips on mine.”

  Colin, refusing to be tempted by her caress, gently pulled her hand away. “I confess I ardently wish he hadn’t touched you, but it is a small concern compared to what might have been.”

  “And yet, we are headed back to town. I had thought you meant to marry me as soon as may be.”

  “Is that what you believe? That I no longer wish to marry you?” he asked, aghast.

  “I have heard it bruited about that Miss Ponsonby was abducted and ruined during the course of a carriage ride. Is that not why you refused to marry her and cried off?”

  “Well, yes,” he said, nonplussed, “but her story hardly compares to yours.”

  “Why not? Because he merely kissed me?”

  “No, because I love you! Elizabeth, you don’t truly believe that if he had taken more from you than a kiss, I should no longer wish you to be my wife?”

  She looked away and the long sweep of her lashes against her cheek was like a poem. “I thought I was certain when I saw that it was you who had come after me.”

  He kissed her then, not because he wanted to—most desperately—but to reassure her that there would never come a day when he didn’t wish to—most desperately. Her lips clung to his with a sense of urgency she had never before made evident, until, at last, she lay back her head. “Oh, Colin,” she said on a sigh, “do tell the groom to turn about for Gretna.”

  “How can I?” he asked even as he wondered at his determination. “Now that you are to be my wife, I must look to your reputation. You are a virtuous young woman and I will not allow any gossip that says otherwise. The banns shall be read, the invitations shall go out, and a new wedding gown ordered, one as different from the last as you can conceive of. We shall then be married in church with the proper witnesses including your dearest friend, your aunt and your mother, and Cook shall prepare our wedding breakfast.”

  “And the painting?” She looked up at him in mock severity, but the stars in her eyes told the truth as to her actual feelings.

  “It shall hang in its place of honor for the rest of our days,” he insisted, smiling at her in that way he suspected caused her palpitations of the heart.

  She smiled and, sighing deeply, closed her eyes. “Is that all?”

  “No; we shall honeymoon at my family’s estate in Shropshire for a long as you wish. It is set in a little valley of green hills and is full to bursting with windows that look out onto spectacular gardens, the likes of which you have never seen.”

  She opened her eyes wide. “Is there a maze of hedges?”

  “Indeed, there is,” he said as he stroked her cheek. “If you like, we shall find the center of it the moment we arrive. At length, when you have become restless, we shall board ship for a land shrouded in mystery. Something tells me you should like to introduce your father to that paragon of virtue you spoke of earlier tonight.”

  “Truly? You would take me to India?” she cried, her eyes misty with tears of joy.

  “Yes, my darling, I would.”

  “Oh, can it be? You can’t possibly know how I have longed to introduce you to all of its beauties!”

  “Yes, but only once you,” he murmured, lowering his lips to hers, “have introduced me to all of yours.”