The Fugitive Heiress

by Amanda Scott

  “As for Tiffany….” She stiffened, watching him intently. “Though I naturally have a question or two to put to her privately, I doubt she will be in dire enough straits to require your defense, whatever your future plans may be.” Varling and Tiffany looked at each other, hope springing to their eyes. “Your protection,” Dambroke went on grimly, “might better be offered to Miss Westering. Her actions tonight compounded by threefold any error made by either Tiffany or Teddy, not to mention the fact that she put herself in grave danger. I shall have a good deal to say to her presently, I assure you, and there are several questions I intend to ask that I daresay she would as lief not hear at all.”

  Catheryn was certain he was right. She had enjoyed the little scene between Varling and the earl quite as much as Duff had, but now she found herself the uncomfortable cynosure of all eyes. A guilty thought that much of this evening’s activity would have been avoided had she gone to Dambroke in the first place, instead of attempting to protect Teddy from his wrath, only made matters worse. She was tired. She could feel blood flooding her cheeks and, finally, she took refuge in dignity.

  “I’m certain you will have much to say, my lord, but I pray you will wait until we have all had some sleep and that you will choose a more private place.” Her voice trembled slightly, though she fought to stay calm. “As to your questions, you may ask them whenever you like. If they are pertinent, I shall answer them willingly, of course, but you have no right to cross-question me, you know.”

  It was almost as though she had pushed a button of some sort. She knew he had been keeping a tight rein on himself and that he, too, was tired, but she was as astonished as everyone else when his quick temper snapped. “So you’ll be the judge of whether my questions are pertinent, will you? And refuse to answer them if they are not, I suppose!” He advanced upon her in a manner much more threatening than any displayed earlier by Lawrence. “You’d question my rights, Catheryn? Well….” He seized her shoulders, shaking her, his grip bruising the tender skin. “By God, my girl, I won’t have it! You’ll answer whatever I choose to ask or rue the day! Just remember that once we’re married I’ll have the right to cross-question you any time the mood strikes me. For that matter, I’ll damned well have the right to beat you soundly if I don’t like your answers! How will you like that, my girl!”

  A sudden and deathlike silence fell upon the taproom. Varling and Caston, both looking as though they thought Catheryn truly would need their protection, had moved a step or two in her direction when Dambroke began to shake her. Now they stopped, shocked to stillness. Tiffany’s hand flew to her mouth, and Teddy came wide awake. Lord Thomas grinned with unholy glee, while the three men on the bench merely looked at each other in bewilderment. Dambroke seemed to realize immediately that, as a proposal of marriage, his words left a great deal to be desired. He dropped his hands helplessly and, for the moment, was speechless.

  Catheryn’s face had gone white. As soon as the earl released her and without looking at him she turned away, fighting to control emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. “How dare you, my lord!” Her voice was low-pitched but controlled, and the scorn in it carried to everyone in the room. “How dare you mock such feelings as the captain has just displayed! Have you no regard for love, for gentleness? How dare you treat me so! Your behavior is contemptible.” Her breath was coming heavily, nearly in sobs, and her hands were clenched fists against her skirts. That he could have spoken to her in such a way and with such an audience!

  “Catheryn, please. It was my damnable temper.” He was clearly appalled at what he had said. His voice was gruff, and she felt a gentle hand upon her shoulder. “I never meant….”

  Control evaporating, she wheeled on him in sudden fury and he staggered back, reeling from a slap delivered with the full force of her hand.

  “Oh, I know you never meant it, my lord!” she blazed, barely conscious of what she said. “None of it but perhaps the wish to beat me! I know you were angry. Angry with me for meddling; but if I hadn’t meddled you’d not have found them so quickly. And without Teddy’s quick wits,” she continued hotly, “you might not have found Tiffany at all till it was too late. But once again your stupid authority had been sidestepped and you can think of nothing else. There is nothing further to say to the purpose. Good night to you, sir!” And without another word, she stormed past an open-mouthed Colby and out of the taproom. No one tried to stop her.

  XX

  DRIVEN BY INDIGNANT FURY, Catheryn reached the Great North Road before the enormity of her actions overcame her. Tears began to stream down her face, and Psyche slowed unheeded to a walk. How could she have done such a thing! Dambroke had embarrassed her, to be sure, but what she had done was much worse. To slap him in front of them all and then rail at him like a Billingsgate fishwife! His pride would surely never let him forgive her. She turned, almost with relief, at the sound of pursuing hoofbeats, but it was only Edmund Caston. He rode up beside her.

  “Don’t say anything, Edmund,” she begged, eyeing him warily through her tears. “If you scold me I shall cry, and if you sympathize, I shall have the vapors, so say nothing. Thank you for coming, however.” Amazingly, he acceded to her wishes and, when she sniffled, silently handed her a large handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket. She thanked him again and, oddly comforted by his presence, urged the mare to a faster pace.

  Maggie was waiting when they returned, but either a sign from Edmund or Catheryn’s own expression kept her from asking any disconcerting questions. Once she heard the rescue had been a success, she hustled Catheryn upstairs, chattering of her own night’s adventure while tucking her charge into bed.

  “Tony nearly throttled that foppish worm, Lucas Markham, thinking he’d know where Tiff had been taken. He did know about an uncle near Stevenage, but that was all.” With that little bit of information the men had gone to their various abodes to change to riding dress. Maggie had gained escort by pleading fatigue and done likewise. She then followed her brother to the rendezvous point and continued to follow well behind the men until they were too far from London to send her back. “Lord, but Tony was livid! He scolded all the way from Barnet, and I nearly died when Mr. Caston offered to take me home, but they decided he might be needed. Then Lord Thomas said I had spunk, so Tony turned on him for a short time. Said if that was how he means to go on, he will live under the cat’s paw for certain.” Maggie grinned complacently, and Catheryn stared at her.

  “They have accepted his suit, then!” Maggie nodded. “Oh, that’s wonderful. I know you will be very happy.” She tried to sound excited, but her heart wasn’t in it.

  Maggie didn’t seem to mind, however, and continued with her tale. They had found Dambroke on the verge of going to bed and relayed the news of the abduction, whereupon he had immediately sent for fresh mounts and Maggie had demanded to be included. “I thought I had as much right as anyone to help rescue Tiff,” she said, “but Tony objected rather rudely, and then that boy Nat came along and told us about Teddy and you. I insisted then, and I think Tom would have supported me, but Dambroke….” She broke off with an odd look at Catheryn, then finished lamely, “Well, he was pretty angry, I guess.”

  Catheryn wondered what he had said and, remembering Varling’s words about a promise to Maggie, she concluded that he must have made his feelings about her involvement rather plain. When Maggie had gone, she lay back against the pillows and let the tears come again. She could still visualize the earl’s face after she had slapped him. Except for the fiery imprint of her hand, it had been chalk-white with anger and shock. She could not remember ever having been in such a rage with anyone and wondered what on earth had come over her to cause her to fly out so at the man she loved. For now that it was probably too late, now that he would probably never forgive her, her defenses were down and she could confront the feelings she had so long denied. She loved him and had done so from the moment she had first laid eyes upon him. She should have realized it long ago, she told herself, but
certainly since the night of the countess’s ball. Else why had she not slapped him then when surely he had asked for it, rather than tonight when…. Exhaustion overcame her midthought and she slept.

  When she awoke, the sun was high and Mary was briskly opening curtains and wielding a feather duster. “Didn’t think you’d wish to sleep the day away, Miss Catheryn. Miss Lucy’s ordered a lovely late breakfast, and Lady Margaret said I was to get you up first and then see to the Lady Tiffany.”

  “What time is it, Mary?”

  “Gone eleven, miss. Near everyone else is up but you and her ladyship. Lord Thomas and Mr. Caston left for town over an hour ago to take the news to my lady. And Master Teddy is with Mr. MacClaren doing his lessons. Which dress will you wear, miss?”

  “The white spotted muslin with the blue sash,” Catheryn replied, turning to practical matters in order to stem the flood of memory from the previous night. As it was, thoughts kept intruding, and she could feel her cheeks burning when she turned to let Mary do up the frock’s tiny satin-covered buttons. When she finished, Catheryn slipped her stockinged feet into blue kid slippers and set off to the breakfast parlor, where she found Maggie chatting with her brother and Miss Lucy over cups of chocolate.

  The three looked a little conscious when she entered, and she wondered if they had been discussing her. Feeling the color creep to her cheeks again, she firmly put the disquieting thought aside and accepted Captain Varling’s offer to help her to some Yorkshire ham. She had hoped to avoid all the gentlemen, but he certainly was the least threatening to her peace of mind. Once she was seated with a heaping plate and had begun to eat, she found it much easier to take part in the conversation, and by the time Tiffany entered, she had recovered her poise; consequently, the fact that her ladyship was accompanied by the earl was only slightly disconcerting.

  Pointedly wishing Tiffany good day, she avoided Dambroke’s eye, but for the next half hour, though he barely spoke a word, she was extraordinarily aware of his presence. If subsequent discussion among the others was sometimes stilted and formal, and if certain subjects were strictly avoided, it was surely due to the presence of the servants. They soon departed, however, and the conversation still had a forced quality; so Catheryn, beginning to peel a peach, was not surprised when the captain suggested that Tiffany might like to stroll with him through the gardens and down to the lake. After they had gone, however, she was dismayed when Miss Lucy turned to Maggie and brightly offered to show her a shirt pattern she had asked about.

  Catheryn stared pleadingly at the other girl, hoping she would delay a few moments longer, but Maggie, barely concealing a grin, jumped to her feet and followed the old lady out of the room. Catheryn shot an accusing look at the half-peeled peach. Short of flinging it onto the table and fleeing, there was nothing to be done except face Dambroke tête à tête. Uncertain whether to damn the others for their conspiracy or thank them for arranging that the matter would soon be done, she cut a slice and began to nibble self-consciously, not looking at him, waiting for him to begin. Silence reigned for a moment or two. Then the earl cleared his throat and pushed his cup away, but just as he seemed about to speak, the door from the morning room popped open and a tousled brown head came into view around it.

  “What the devil do you want!”

  Manfully meeting the earl’s glower, Teddy replied hastily, “I don’t. I mean, Mr. MacClaren sent me. I didn’t really expect you would be here. I had breakfast hours ago. If you don’t want me, I could just go away again.” He seemed only too anxious to do so, but Dambroke, still glaring, demanded to know why MacClaren had sent him. Since Teddy was apparently reluctant to explain, Catheryn took advantage of what seemed to be a reprieve and pushed back her chair.

  “I’m sure your business is of a private nature,” she said lightly, “so I’ll leave you to discuss it alone.” The suggestion was strongly rejected by both brothers, the earl muttering that the devil she would and Teddy objecting in dismay.

  “Oh no! That is to say,” he added, collecting himself again, “it’s not at all obligatory for you to leave. In fact, if you please, I wish you will stay.”

  She looked at him searchingly, remembering as she did that she was not the only one in difficulty with Dambroke. “Very well, Teddy. I’ll stay.” She glanced at the earl as Teddy shut the door. Still visibly annoyed, Dambroke’s attention was focused on the boy. Catheryn began to relax, thinking that, for once, he was a little slow on the uptake. Then she saw light dawning. His eyes narrowed.

  “Why look here if you were certain I’d be elsewhere, young man?” There being no acceptable answer to the question, Teddy held his tongue. One foot shifted on the carpet. “Perhaps you did not wish to find me at all,” the earl mused, rubbing it in. He slid his chair back, tilting it onto its hind legs, and folded his arms across his chest. “Well, Edward?”

  Despite the relaxed pose, Dambroke looked formidable, but Teddy, having found him whether he wanted him or not, seemed suddenly determined to have it over and done with as soon as possible. He sighed. “I didn’t. Want to find you, that is. I told Mr. MacClaren about the rescue. I wasn’t puffing off or anything,” he hastened to assure them, “only telling him. Anyways, he asked a lot of questions about how I came to be at the Running Bull at the right time.” He paused but hurried on when Dambroke did not speak. “I … I told him about Straley and the snares, about … well, you know, ’bout everything.”

  “And?” prompted his brother.

  The boy’s hitherto steady gaze faltered. “He said I was to find you at once and have the talk you said we were to have this morning.”

  “Ah, yes, our talk.”

  “Mr. MacClaren said there would likely be a good bit more to discuss now,” Teddy added, with a dismal air of opening the budget completely. “Only everyone slept late, so … so we didn’t have it yet,” he finished in a rush.

  “MacClaren’s right.” Dambroke’s chair came back to its proper stance with a dull thud. “I suppose we may as well do it now. If Miss Westering will excuse us?”

  Catheryn couldn’t help herself. No matter what he thought of her meddling, she had to make a last attempt. “My lord….” Dambroke shook his head, though she was surprised to see his eyes soften.

  “I must deal with this in my own way, Catheryn. The boy has been guilty of disobedience and outright defiance. I am grateful for his quick thinking last night and agree that it was undoubtedly responsible for Tiffany’s rescue, but I cannot condone the rest. There is especially the matter of the gun.”

  There was nothing more to say. At least he had spoken to her. And he had not called her Miss Westering again. She sat for some moments after they had gone and then, not wanting to face anyone else, wandered down to the library where she curled up in her favorite chair, tucking her feet up under her. Her thoughts were not as muddled as they had been, but they were still far from clear. She sighed and, within minutes, had dozed off.

  She was awakened by the sound of the latch clicking into place on the alcove door and looked up, stretching unconsciously. Dambroke stood just inside the door. She stared at him, caught off guard, and her heart began to pound. “So here you are. I’ve nearly turned the house upside down looking for you, my girl.”

  She said the first thing that came to mind. “I am not your girl.”

  “So it would seem.” He stepped closer. “I shall not go away till you explain just why you are not, you know.” She was silent and found she couldn’t think properly at all. Her silly heart was banging against her ribs so hard she thought he must be able to hear it. Having been certain he would demand an explanation of an entirely different sort, she now didn’t know what to think. “This really is a dreary place in daytime,” he observed, looking around the room.

  “I do not find it so,” she hazarded, keeping a wary eye on him.

  “Nonsense. You only mean to disagree with anything I say. I wish you will come into the study.” He seemed hesitant, unlike his normal self, and it made her uncomf
ortable. It was easier to deal with him when he came the earl over her.

  “Why the study, sir? So that you may make good your threat and beat me, too?”

  “Don’t be absurd. It’s so gloomy in here that it makes me feel this discussion is slightly improper.”

  “Well, it is, and you may leave with my good will.” Her voice took on a note of sharpness, purposely goading him.

  “Catheryn.” The note of warning was nearly comforting and the two steps he took toward her even more so. But then he hesitated again. “Damn. I’m only making more of a mull of it.”

  “Are you, my lord?” Her eyes began to twinkle in spite of herself and she felt a warmth spreading through her. Evidently her expression encouraged him, for he took another step toward her. Why was she trembling? He sat on the footstool at her feet and was silent, searching for the right words.

  “I … I must apologize for my behavior last night, Catheryn. I will be sorry for it always, for having embarrassed you in front of everyone, particularly Lawrence and his lot. On my own behalf, I can only plead the strain of the past fortnight and add that I was very badly frightened to walk in and find you facing that damned pistol. Nevertheless, there is no excuse for me. May I hope that in time you will find it in your heart to forgive me?” The expression on his face when he looked up at last was so anxious that Miss Westering was betrayed into one of her low chuckles. Dambroke stared in amazement.