by Mary Nichols
The big man appeared suddenly behind them. He was not in livery today, but in a cloth coat, leather breeches and sturdy boots. He held a shotgun at the ready. ‘What are you doing here?’ he demanded, calling the dogs to heel.
‘I was out walking. I thought the house might be interesting.’ It was the first thing that came into her head. ‘I thought the Countess might allow me to view it.’
‘She will not.’
‘Then I will not trouble her. If you would call off the dogs, I will take my leave.’
‘You were at the Fair yesterday,’ he said, ignoring her request. ‘I saw you there.’
‘Yes.’
‘Stranger here, are you?’
‘Not exactly.’ She was keeping a wary eye on the dogs in case they decided to disobey their master. They looked as though they would like to eat her alive. ‘I lived in Moresdale as a little girl.’
‘What brought you back?’
‘I was staying in York and decided I would come and see if I remembered it.’
‘And do you?’
‘Only faintly.’
‘Tell me your name,’ he ordered.
‘Louise Vail.’
‘Ahh.’ It was a long drawn-out sound, as if the name meant something to him.
‘You know the name?’ she asked.
‘’Twas the parson’s name. Long time ago now.’
‘Yes.’
He called the dogs to his side and ordered them to sit. ‘You can go now,’ he said. ‘Turn round and walk slowly. I advise you not to run. Shut the gate behind you.’
She obeyed, forcing herself to walk steadily and not look back, though the hair on the back of her neck prickled uncomfortably. ‘Do not come back,’ he called after her. ‘I might not be on hand to control the hounds next time.’
She reached the gate, slipped through it and shut it behind her, then she sank to the grass on the side of the road. Her legs were shaking so much she could not walk another step until she had recovered.
Five minutes later she stood up and made her way down the hill to the village. She was not sure what to do next. Jonathan had been right; she needed a strategy. More than that, she needed him. He seemed to be the pivot of her existence. Whenever she was in trouble, she wished for him.
Her wish was granted because she saw him making his way towards her, once again dressed as Jonathan Linton.
‘Where have you been?’ he demanded, his anxiety making him sound angry.
‘To Moresdale Hall.’
‘And?’
‘And nothing. I could not get past the dogs. Six huge wolf hounds, nearly as tall as I am.’
‘Louise, you foolish, foolish girl. You could have been killed.’
She shuddered. ‘That big servant who attended the Countess yesterday came and called them off. He questioned me, asked me my name. He knew it too.’
‘Did you mention Catherine Fellowes?’
‘No. I wanted to see the Countess and ask her. But I could see that was useless and so I left. He told me not to go back. He was almost as menacing as the hounds.’
As they stood talking, the Countess’s carriage bowled past them with the old retainer on the back step. The curtains were drawn and they could not see inside it.
‘The Dowager,’ she said. ‘We could go back and try to get in, while she is out.’
‘I thought you wanted to speak to her. I cannot see any reason to risk those dogs, which have undoubtedly been left wandering loose, when there is nothing to see and no one to answer your questions.’
‘The Countess. Catherine.’
‘She might not be there and if the Earl is in residence and is as ill tempered as he is rumoured to be, you will get no welcome, especially if you are his wife’s daughter and not his,’ he pointed out.
She did not like to be reminded of that. ‘What makes you think I might be?’ she demanded crossly. ‘Yesterday you were doing your best to persuade me I am not related at all, though perhaps that was only to get me to go to the dance.’
‘I was only trying to be logical, though in the state you are in logic is beyond you.’
‘You would be in a state if you were me. I do not know who I am, and it is not kind of you to remind me.’
‘Do not fly into the boughs over it, I was simply pointing out—’
‘I know what you were pointing out. You do not need to remind me that I am a bastard, unacceptable in polite circles. I am under no illusions.’
‘Louise…’ he began and stopped.
‘I do not know why you stay with me.’ She laughed suddenly. ‘Oh, but I do.’
‘Do you?’ he asked softly.
‘Yes, Luke asked you to and no doubt he had to pay dearly for the services of one of the famous Piccadilly Gentlemen’s Club. You see, I know its name. I wish he had not wasted his money.’
‘Wasted it?’ he asked, angry himself now and not inclined to tell her he had received no payment and would ask for none. ‘Your brother loved you enough to ask for our help in finding you and keeping you safe. Do you throw that love back in his face?’
‘He is not my brother,’ she said flatly.
‘And now you disown him. I am ashamed of you, Louise Vail.’
‘I know that! I am not fit company for a Viscount, so I will relieve you of the burden of it.’ She turned on her heel and ran across the green, going she knew not where.
Jonathan watched her go and cursed himself for his clumsiness. They had no proof she was not legitimate and he should not have brought the subject up. She was hurt, confused and angry and all he had done was add to her feelings of being an outcast. He did not care who she was, what secrets were hidden in her past, who had been her mother or who had fathered her. She was a person in her own right, brave, spirited, resourceful and lovable. And he loved her. He had not told her so, but perhaps he should. But where was that love leading? To marriage? What had happened to his vow to think very carefully?
Thinking did not help. There was every reason to reject the idea. He made himself list them. She might be, probably was, illegitimate and, even if she were not, she had been adopted and brought up by a parson who had no pedigree that he was aware of, and it was an unconventional upbringing at that, more like a boy’s than a girl’s. She would bring no dowry, no prestige to his household. Neither society nor his parents would accept her. Reasons enough, his head told him, but it made no difference. Reason did not come into it, when his heart was engaged.
He could not tell her how he felt, not while she had this bee in her bonnet about her birth. The sooner that mystery was solved the better. On the other hand, if she were to think he had delayed proposing until he knew there was no taint of illegitimacy about her, she would turn him down on the spot, and he could not blame her. He had to do something to bring the whole matter to a conclusion. After all, he told himself with a wry smile, was it not one of the aims of the society to solve mysteries? It was time to visit the Dowager.
Louise had disappeared towards the York road and he assumed she was returning to the Shepherd’s Crook. He ran after her, falling into step beside her. She knew he was there, but did not acknowledge it. If she could stay angry with him, then she could perhaps bear his presence without bursting into tears.
It had all gone so terribly wrong. Finding her mother had seemed such a simple thing to do when she first thought of it, almost an adventure, with reunion at the end and a return to the vicarage, if not exactly in triumph, at least with satisfaction. How very different it had turned out. The journey had been far from straight-forward, made bearable only by the presence of Jonathan. While she had thought he was simply Jonathan Linton, she had enjoyed his company, playing cards, even duelling, because that had been no more than play, but as soon as she knew of his title, she realised the intrepid adventurer could be no more and life suddenly became very serious. What on earth had possessed Luke to ask him to look after her?
‘I suppose you will keep up this silence until I apologise,’ he said.
‘What have you to apologise for? You stated nothing but the truth.’
‘We cannot know that.’
‘It is too late to retract. Words said cannot be unsaid.’
‘I wish to God they could.’ He paused and took her arm, bringing her round to face him. ‘Louise, I am sorry. I should not have said what I did. It makes not a jot of difference to me who you are. I love you.’
‘You love me?’ she echoed.
‘Yes. I thought you must have guessed.’
‘Why? Because you kissed me? Kisses mean nothing. No doubt you kiss your mistress,’ she retorted, thinking that’s what he wanted her to become.
‘No!’ he almost shouted it. And then he took her face in his hands and put his lips to hers in a kiss that was searing in its intensity.
She stood passively, determined not to react, though it was taking every bit of will-power she possessed. If it had been a tender kiss, she could not have succeeded, but it was hard and demanding, the kiss of a man used to having his own way and not liking it when he was thwarted. Realising he had com pounded his error, he drew back, his breath coming in jerky gasps. ‘Oh, God, Louise, I am so very, very sorry. Please forgive me.’
She did not answer, but turned away and began walking quickly down the road, almost stumbling in her haste. He followed a few paces behind her. Once at the inn, she went up to her room and slammed the door behind her. He stood outside a moment, then turned away. She heard him go and collapsed on the bed in a paroxysm of weeping. And the person she wanted most at the moment was her mama, far away in Chipping Barnet.
Chapter Ten
She did not leave her room any more that day. No one came to her. What Jonathan told everybody she had no idea, probably that she had the headache. And that was true enough. Her head whirred and thumped, her thoughts tying themselves into knots as she tried to make sense of what had happened. She wished she had never come on this ill-fated expedition. It had been ill thought out and unkind to her mama and papa and her brothers, especially Luke. She had never meant to reject them, never meant to hurt them. If Mama were to walk through that door now, she would fling herself at her and beg forgiveness, cry in her arms as she had done when hurt as a child, and be comforted.
Here there was no comfort, not even from Jonathan. He had kissed her, said he loved her, but he could say things like that to a mistress, his jolie femme, and probably mean them at the time. Young gentlemen did. She was not his jolie femme, not his anything. And her heart was breaking. Compared to that, her curiosity about her birth dwindled almost to nothing.
She emerged from her room next morning, pale, bleary-eyed with weeping, but resolute. She went down to breakfast some time after Betty. The girl had been inordinately cheerful. She had not seemed to notice how quiet Louise was as she chatted away in her usual inconsequential way about the fair and the dancing and how clever Joe was. By the time Louise had dressed and made her way to the dining parlour, Betty and Joe had finished their meal and gone out to feed and water the horses. Jonathan was still sitting at the table, an empty plate and an empty cup in front of him. He appeared to be brooding.
She sat down opposite him and began slowly spreading butter on a piece of bread. He looked across at her, trying to gauge her mood. Was she still angry with him? He smiled. ‘Good morning, Louise.’
‘I want to go home,’ she said flatly.
‘Home?’ he asked in surprise. ‘You mean Chipping Barnet?’
‘I have no other home. You did say you would take me, though if you would rather not…’ She left the end of the sentence in the air.
‘Of course I will take you. Have I not said so all along? Does that mean you are not proceeding with your enquiries?’
‘There does not seem much point in going on, does there?’
‘None at all,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I do not care one jot who you are, who gave you birth, it is all one to me.’
‘I know that.’
‘You misunderstand. Let me finish. I do not care because that is all in the past and my concern is for the future, for your happiness and incidentally mine, which is inextricably linked with it.’ He reached out and put his hand over hers. ‘I love you, Louise Vail. You are everything to me, the air I breathe, my sustenance, never out of my thoughts. My head and my heart are yours and without you, they will shrivel and die. I realised that when you were stuck on that ledge. I imagined you tumbling over, dying on the rocks and I knew, whoever you were or whatever you were, I could not live without you.’
His words were so tenderly uttered, they set the tears running down her face again, silent tears of despair. She should have been happy, overjoyed at his declaration, but she knew how foolish that would be. She must harden her heart and not be swayed. ‘You want me for your mistress,’ she said flatly. ‘You want to set me up somewhere discreet and visit me when you can spare the time from your wife and family.’ The tears dried up, her emotion a spent force. ‘I will tell you here and now, I will not have it. If I have to die a wrinkled old maid, then so be it.’
He had known when all that unnatural energy was used up, she would be exhausted and listless and that was exactly as she appeared. He could have wept for her. But what she was saying was far from what he had meant. ‘No, you are not listening to me. I want you for my wife. I need no one else.’
She stared at him, uncomprehending. ‘I do not understand.’
‘I cannot put it any plainer, but I have been clumsy and careless of your sensibilities. Of course you wish to have it done properly, every young lady does. Let me make amends.’ He sank to his knees at her feet, and took both her hands in his. ‘Miss Vail, I love you, I can think of nothing that would give me greater happiness than you should become my wife. Will you do me the inestimable honour of consenting to marry me?’
She stared at him, her lovely eyes expressing her delight, then just as quickly a veil came over them, shutting out the pleasure, as the true implications of what he had said came to her. ‘You can’t mean that.’
‘But I do.’ She did love him; he had seen it fleetingly in those speaking eyes, and he would not allow her to deny it. ‘I would not have said it otherwise. And you love me too, don’t you?’
‘It is impossible, you know that. Madness.’
‘Why is it impossible? Are you saying you do not love me?’
‘I…’ She could not go on, could not deny it. She sighed. ‘That is not the point.’
‘Of course it is. If we love each other what is there to stand in our way? I am single and you are single, there is no impediment that I can think of.’
‘I can think of dozens.’
‘Name one.’
‘You do not know who I am. Even I do not. You are a Viscount. You must marry one of your own kind. If you married me, society would condemn you. We would be ostracised. Your family would never accept me, especially when they learned the truth about my birth. I would not want to be the cause of rift between you and your parents.’
He had told himself the same thing a hundred times, but it made no difference. ‘Society can go hang and my parents will learn to love you as I do. Princess or pauper, I want to marry you and the only person who could prevent that is you. I love you. I beg you to consider becoming my wife.’
‘But we met less than four weeks ago and part of that time I was pretending to be a man…’
‘And a very fetching man you made, my darling. But it makes no difference. I could no more have stopped myself falling in love with you than stopped breathing. Tell me you feel the same.’ He looked up at her from his position on his knees, searching her face. ‘Tell me.’
‘It is impossible,’ she said again, shaking her head.
‘Even if you find out you are not ill born? Would that make a difference?’
‘I do not think so. In any case, I have come to the conclusion that no other explanation is possible. All I want to do is go home.’ She smiled wanly. ‘Do get up, Jonathan, you will dirty your breeches.’ He scrambled up and p
ulled up a chair to sit beside her and take her hand. ‘Listen to me, sweetheart. We will go home whenever you are ready, back to the vicarage where you will tell the good people who have raised you that you are going to marry me and become Viscountess Leinster. And until that happens you are Louise Vail and your home will be with the Reverend and Mrs Vail, your mother and father.’
‘You will change your mind,’ she said. ‘As soon as we get back to civilisation, you will see how foolish you are being.’
‘I shall not.’
‘I shall not hold you to it.’
He gave up for the moment. He still had one card up his sleeve. But at least she now knew how he felt, knew it had nothing to do with what she was, with her birth, and everything to do with who she was now, and they had two hundred miles of travel for him to persuade her to think about it.
She was already thinking about it. All those miles behind her and nothing achieved except a great deal more heartache, all those miles ahead of her in the company of the dearest of all men, all of them exquisite torture. But she did not think she could undertake them with only Betty for company. The intrepid madcap had vanished, somewhere around Doncaster.
‘If you can be ready we will set off tomorrow, after breakfast,’ he said. ‘I will alert Joe to have the carriage and horses ready.’
‘Not today?’
‘It is nearly noon. A little late to make a start.’
‘We could go as far as York.’
He sighed and stood up. ‘So we could. Perhaps you should start packing then. I shall go and find Joe. Goodness knows where he and Betty have got to.’
He left her climbing the stairs and went out to the stables, hoping Joe had taken Betty off somewhere that would delay their departure for an hour or two. He had hoped the summons from Moresdale Hall would have come by now. He had not bargained on Louise suddenly abandoning everything and demanding to be taken home. He was not sure whether to be glad or sorry. Would she change her mind again?
He was halfway across the yard when he saw the Countess’s coach stop in the road and Hamish jump down. He walked over to meet him.
