Reluctant Escort

by Mary Nichols

  ‘Fustian! She is no more than an attractive child; how can she possibly be in competition with her own mother?’

  ‘She is not a child, Duncan. She is seventeen, nearly eighteen.’

  ‘She looks more like fifteen. A mere schoolgirl.’

  ‘That is Harriet’s fault for trying to keep her young. Poor Molly has not been allowed to grow up, but underneath that childish exterior there is the heart and mind of a young woman who could blossom into a real beauty.’

  ‘I do not doubt it. It makes me feel like horse-whipping that selfish mother of hers.’

  ‘That would not serve either. What Molly wants is someone to help her grow up. I can’t do that; I am too old and set in my ways. And Stacey Manor is too isolated.’

  ‘So?’ he asked, wondering where this conversation was leading.

  ‘You need to settle down, Duncan. It is about time you abandoned your scapegrace ways and made something of your life.’

  ‘With Molly Martineau?’ he asked in astonishment.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Grandmama, have you any idea what sort of life I lead?’

  ‘Yes, and it is not to your credit. You did not have to abandon your inheritance and take to the road. It was done in a fit of pique…’

  ‘No, Grandmama, it was not. When I came home and discovered I had been reported killed in action at Vittoria…’

  ‘The report of that action was detailed enough for no one to doubt it,’ his grandmother put in. ‘You were seen to fall and a French officer dismounted and finished you off with his sword…’

  ‘He meant to, but charitably changed his mind when he saw I was wounded and took me prisoner instead.’

  ‘It is a pity you could not have managed to let anyone know you were alive…’

  ‘I tried, but because I would not give my parole not to attempt to escape I was denied all privileges and no one would take a letter. When I did escape, I brought important intelligence and the Chief sent me back to discover more. I was not free to come home until after Boney surrendered. Too late. My father had died, my title had been usurped, the lady I was to have married had wed my brother and produced an heir.’ He paused, remembering the consternation his return had caused.

  If it had not been for that spell as a French prisoner of war and Old Hooknose sending him back behind the lines as an agent, he would have come home long before and claimed his birthright. He would have arrived before his father’s death and there would have been no question of who was the heir. He would be head of the family, running his estates, married to Beth…Married to Beth.

  He mused on that for several seconds. It was a prospect which had kept him going all the time he had been in the Peninsula. He had dreamed of it, sure that she was waiting for him. He had spent hours wondering what she might be doing, how she looked, whether she missed him and longed for his return as much as he missed her and looked forward to being reunited with her.

  The reality had been very different. Coming home and finding her married to his brother had shaken him to the core. He had been angry and miserable and then anxious only to get away, to leave them to their happiness with each other. He had told them he did not care for the settled life, had not really wanted to be the Earl, that he was a soldier and would remain one. He would not bother them again; they might continue to believe him dead.

  He had given a harsh laugh. ‘You may even continue to mourn me,’ he had said.

  Hugh, though clearly discomfited, had not tried to dissuade him, but had offered him an income from the estate, saying it was the least he could do. He had refused it, being more concerned with salvaging his pride. He had wished them happy and reported to the War Office for further service. Napoleon’s escape from Elba and the second phase of the war was fortuitous in that respect.

  ‘What else was Hugh to do?’ she demanded. ‘He truly believed he had become the new heir and was entitled to inherit. We all did. And Beth had expected to marry the Stacey heir ever since she was a child; it was what both families wanted. You can hardly blame her for turning to your brother.’

  Logic told him that Hugh and Beth were not at fault, but his heart was still sore. Beth had been so quick to change her allegiance that he began to wonder if, after all, it was Hugh she had wanted all the time and his reported demise had been a blessing. ‘Oh, I can quite see how it happened. My return was an acute embarrassment to everyone. It were better I had stayed dead. I returned to my regiment to give Napoleon another chance to finish me off at Waterloo. ‘Tis a pity he did not.’

  ‘Don’t be bitter about it, my boy,’ she said softly. ‘You chose to renounce your inheritance for the sake of Beth and their son, so now you must put it behind you and make a fresh start. Careering about the countryside getting into scrapes will not do. It just will not do.’

  ‘How do you know I have been getting into scrapes?’

  ‘Why else would you come here? And in the state you were in. I am not a fool, Duncan, even if you take me for one.’

  ‘Oh, Grandmama, I know you are no fool, but it is better you do not know…’

  ‘Running from the law, I shouldn’t wonder, or your creditors. Using Stacey Manor as a bolt-hole…’

  ‘Grandmama…’

  ‘Enough. You are right—I do not want to know. But what about settling down? What about Molly?’ She laughed lightly. ‘Scapegrace and madcap, it might be the making of you both.’

  ‘You are surely not in earnest?’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘It’s out of the question. You said yourself, I am a rakeshame, always on the move, getting into one scrape after another…’

  ‘Precisely.’

  ‘I cannot change into a fan-carrier overnight. We should both be miserable. And what do you suppose Miss Martineau would think of the matter?’

  ‘She will be guided by her elders.’

  ‘Her mother! I hardly think she would provide wise guidance with three husbands already dead and buried.’

  ‘No, but as Harriet has left Molly in my care and Molly is an obedient girl she will listen to me…’

  ‘Then she would be lacking in spirit and that would not commend her to me. Besides, it would mean taking Harriet Benbright as a mother-in-law and I do not think I could stomach that. Such pretensions I never did see in a woman of no consequence.’

  ‘Harriet’s father was a baronet and I hardly think you are in a position to talk of consequence now, my boy.’

  ‘No, which is why Harriet would not entertain an offer from me for her daughter. I have nothing to commend me. And any children we had would have no prospects of inheriting the title. I could not go back on my word to Hugh. That alone would exclude me in Harriet’s eyes.’ He smiled disarmingly. ‘Grandmama, I thank you for your concern, but I must continue to live my life in the way that suits me. I have a small pension from a grateful country and Hugh has been kind enough to make me an allowance from the income of the estate.’ He did not want her to think ill of his brother, nor intervene on his behalf, and so he told the lie.

  ‘So he should! It is yours, after all. Where are you off to tomorrow?’

  He smiled, concluding she had not been serious or she would not have capitulated so easily. ‘Wherever the fancy takes me.’

  ‘But I collect it must be done under cover of darkness.’

  ‘I am afraid so. I shall be gone long before you wake, so I will say my farewell now and retire.’

  She sighed. ‘Very well. But you know you are always welcome here, no matter what.’

  ‘Yes, I know, but I would be grateful if no one knew of my presence here tonight. In fact, I should deem it a favour if you were to say, if asked, that you were unaware that I had survived the second war and returned to England.’

  ‘That I will do, but I shall also pray that you come to your senses before you find yourself preaching at Tyburn Cross.’

  ‘Oh, I do not think it will come to that,’ he said lightly. ‘Hanging is certainly not part of my plan for the fut
ure.’

  ‘Then what is?’

  ‘I do not know. Not yet. But undoubtedly something will occur to me. Now, if you will excuse me.’ He bowed over her hand, putting it to his lips. ‘Goodnight and God bless you, Grandmother. Tell Molly…No, tell her nothing, for there is nothing good you could say of me.’

  He strode from the room and made his way upstairs to bed, though he did not intend to sleep for more than an hour or two. Long before dawn, he was up and creeping down to the back door, from where he crossed the cobbled yard to saddle his horse.

  Molly’s room overlooked the stables, and as she had stayed up reading Don Quixote by the light of a candle she heard him leave the house. Going to the window, she watched him enter the stables. He was escaping, getting away on that beautiful black horse of his, and she was sure he would have many fine adventures and his life would not be at all boring, as hers was.

  There was something a little mysterious about him; he had talked all through dinner without giving away a single thing about himself, not even why he had chosen to come to Stacey Manor in the first place, nor how he knew her mother. Until a few months ago, she had not heard of her mother’s Stacey connections. And she was curious as to why it was necessary to creep away in the dead of night.

  Without stopping to think of the consequences, she scrambled into her riding habit and hurried downstairs. She was in the kitchen, pulling on her boots, when she heard the quiet clop of a horse walking across the cobbles of the yard. By the time she had let herself out of the house, the sound of the horse was fading in the distance. She ran out to the stables to saddle her mare, Jenny. Lady Connaught had long since given up riding and there were only a couple of men’s saddles belonging to the groom, who rode pillion when her ladyship went out in the carriage. Molly had used the smaller of these on many occasions and had become proficient at riding astride.

  Two minutes later she was galloping after the enigmatic captain, without any idea of what she would say to him when she caught up with him. It was simply that she was wide awake and longing for something to give her life a little piquancy. She would follow him and solve the mystery of who he was and what he was about.

  It was a quiet night and she could hear the hooves of his horse ahead of her, cantering easily along the dry road. She would stay a little behind him until he stopped to rest his mount; she could catch up with him. Then he must either escort her back himself or share his adventure with her. Either way she would learn more about him.

  She suddenly became aware that the hoofbeats had stopped and she pulled up to listen and look about her. She had left the familiar heath behind and was on a road with open fields on one side and a copse of trees on the other. There was a village not too far way, for she heard a dog bark. Close by an owl hooted, startling her for a moment, but there was no sound of man or horse.

  Surely he could not have outrun her so completely? She began to walk her mare forward more slowly, straining to hear the slightest sound. Had he turned off? But she could see no other road or bridleway. Had he gone into one of the houses in the village? Could he have an assignation there? She ought to go back, but it would be so disappointing not to have her curiosity satisfied.

  A mile or two further on, she became aware of the sound of a horse behind her. She stopped and pulled her mount into the edge of the wood, concealing herself behind a bush, refusing to admit she was more than a little afraid. The other rider approached at a walk, singing quietly under his breath. He stopped when he came level with her hiding place.

  ‘Are we going to play hide-and-seek all night?’ he asked mildly.

  Recognising his voice, she gave a sigh of relief and emerged from her hiding place, ducking under the low branches of a tree. ‘How did you get behind me?’

  ‘I heard someone riding after me a long time ago, but when no one caught up with me I deduced I was being followed and that is something I do not like, so I hid in the trees to see who it might be. You are very lucky I didn’t take a pot shot at you.’

  He was annoyed; she could tell by the set of his jaw and the steely gleam of his eye in the darkness, and she supposed he had every right to be, but she was not one to back down from a confrontation. ‘And when you realised it was me, why did you not show yourself?’

  He chuckled, in spite of his annoyance. ‘The follower became the followed. I wanted to see how determined you were. If you thought you had lost me, you might have turned back.’

  ‘And now you know the answer to that, what are you going to do about it?’

  ‘Send you home, of course. I cannot for the life of me think why you set out after me.’ He paused as a new thought crossed his mind. ‘Lady Connaught did not send you, did she?’

  ‘Lady Connaught?’ she queried in surprise. ‘Why should she do that?’

  He ignored her question. ‘Then why?’

  ‘I wanted to see where you were going. You are undoubtedly going to have an adventure and…’

  He threw back his head and laughed. ‘I am sorry to disappoint you, Miss Madcap, but I am simply going to join a friend…’

  ‘In the middle of the night?’

  ‘It will be dawn before I reach the rendezvous.’

  ‘Is it a lady friend? You have a tryst?’

  ‘Certainly not!’

  ‘Why so adamant? Have you an aversion to ladies?’

  ‘Not at all. I have known some very accommodating ones. Now, if you have finished interrogating me, it is time you turned back to Stacey Manor.’

  ‘You are surely not sending me back alone? I might lose my way or be set upon and robbed. Or raped.’

  He felt sure she did not know the real meaning of the word but, looking at her youthful figure and bright eyes, he conceded she might very well be right. But they had met no one on the road and in a quiet country district like this, so far from the evils of civilisation, she was safe enough. Besides, he had his reputation of being a hard man to consider and Frank waiting at the Red Lion in Aylsham for him. He did not have the time to go back. ‘You came alone.’

  ‘Ah, but I knew you were not far away and would have come if I had called for help.’

  ‘You scheming little madam! Well, it will not serve. Back you go.’

  He was angry again. His moods changed with lightning speed; one minute he was scowling, the next laughing, and it was difficult to know which it was likely to be, but that was half the fun of the adventure. She opened her mouth to answer him, but before she could do so he had reached down to take her reins. Turning her horse the way they had come, he slapped its rump. It set off at a canter.

  She could easily have brought it under control, but decided to let it have its head and pretend it was bolting with her. She turned it off the road and they crashed through the trees, startling an owl which swooped down and skimmed so close to her head, she let out a genuine scream of terror. The horse panicked and reared and the next minute she hit the ground with a bump.

  ‘Molly, where are you?’ In a daze, she heard Duncan coming after her. She lay still, her eyes closed. She heard him pull up and dismount, felt his warm breath on her face as he bent over to see if she were breathing and then let out a shuddering sigh.

  ‘Thank God! Molly, open your eyes, there’s a good girl. Let me see you are not injured.’

  She allowed her eyelids to flutter. ‘Where am I?’

  ‘Safe now. Are you hurt?’

  ‘I don’t know. My head aches.’

  ‘Can you sit up?’ He was surprisingly gentle as he helped her to sit. ‘That’s better.’ He felt round the back of her head with gentle fingers. ‘Nothing broken that I can see. Now stay there while I catch your mount.’

  He disappeared through the trees, but he was only gone a minute because Jenny was cropping the undergrowth close by, calm as you please.

  He walked both horses out to the road and tethered them, then came back to pick her up in his arms and carry her through the trees to sit her on the mare’s back. She was still a little dizzy and not at
all sure she could ride. Afraid he would set her off alone again, she moaned softly and fell forward on the horse’s neck.

  ‘Oh, damnation!’ she heard him mutter. She was glad Jenny was being good because she had allowed her hands to fall from the reins.

  He lifted her down again and put her on his own horse, then, leading Jenny by her reins, got up behind her in order to support her as they rode. She leaned back on his rough coat, wondering what he would do next.

  ‘Can you hear me?’ he asked. ‘Molly, stay awake for God’s sake.’

  ‘Am awake,’ she murmured. ‘Bad head.’

  ‘Very well, Aylsham is nearer than Stacey Manor and there’ll be a doctor in the town, so we will go there, but as soon as you have sufficiently recovered I shall put you on the stagecoach to take you back.’

  She did not argue. His arms were strong around her and the clop of the horse’s hooves soporific; she was almost asleep.

  ‘How did you come to be such a madcap?’ he murmured, more to himself than to her. ‘It was that silly woman, your mother, I have no doubt. You have to grow up some time, kitten, and I have a notion it will be very soon and very sudden. I wish I could protect you, but I cannot. I need protecting from myself, as Grandmama was quick to point out…’

  ‘Grandmama?’ she murmured.

  ‘Oh, you are not as sleepy as you pretend, are you? Grandmama is Lady Connaught.’

  She lifted her head from his shoulder and turned towards him. In the moonlight, his face seemed sombre beneath a large black hat. ‘You are surely not the Earl of Connaught?’

  He laughed under his breath, a harsh, rather bitter sound which troubled her a little. ‘No, I am not the Earl of Connaught. I belong to a different branch of the family.’

  ‘The poor side. Every great family has a poor side, does it not?’

  ‘And its black sheep.’ This time his laugh was one of genuine amusement.

  ‘Oh, I see. But I should guess you are her ladyship’s favourite, all the same.’