The Runaway Chaperone: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Alice Kirks

  “It sounds charming,” Alexandra agreed. Matthew smiled to himself, glad that Alexandra seemed to have accepted his sister’s delightful ways as readily as he himself did. He shrugged.

  “Well, it’s not far to the village. I shall accompany you on foot, I reckon…it’s more reasonable.” He jumped down, wincing as he jarred on the ground. He hoped that hadn’t been obvious. He wouldn’t want Alexandra to think he couldn’t get down from his own horse well.

  “Brother!” Arabella chuckled. “That’s so kind. I am so excited. I can’t wait to show Alexandra the village…she will love the inn, and the smithy, and…”

  “I am sure we’ll have more chance to take Alexandra around the village another day,” Matthew said firmly. “Today, we wanted to purchase cloth. I must be at home by four, Arabella. It’s essential that I’m on time for Albert’s visit later.”

  “Oh…that’s troubling,” she said sadly. “But never mind! We can show Alexandra the library, which would be such fun…she’d love it!”

  “Yes,” Matthew agreed, feeling uncomfortable.

  Matthew was aware, if Arabella was not, of exactly how improper it was to include Alexandra in the family like this. He also knew – and he was sure his sister did not – how very much he would like to show her around. He knew she would appreciate the collection at the library, being the most erudite person he’d ever met – and he also knew how he would enjoy personally showing the books to her.

  “I would think it might be an imposition,” Alexandra said. He looked over at her, surprised.

  “Oh, Alexandra…” Arabella sounded disappointed.

  “Come on,” Matthew said decidedly. “We want to get to the village before teatime. Let’s walk.”

  They walked together up the hill towards the village, which was after all only a half-mile away from where they were.

  While they walked, Matthew watched Arabella. She was wandering off to the side of the path, and that bothered him. This area was, as Albert had mentioned the previous day, not safe. There were footpads in the woodlands! And many people who walked abroad had been laid about.

  Not in broad daylight, perhaps, he reminded himself. But one couldn’t be too careful.

  “Arabella!” he shouted. “Come back!”

  His infernal sister had run up the hill, and she was going surprisingly fast. There were woods up there! One was taking a risk.

  “Your Grace…” the chaperone murmured.

  He growled. “My sister is taking needless risks! Only last week, a man was murdered not three miles from this place! You must be a fool if you think it’s safe to let her run about.”

  “Your Grace…” she said, but he wasn’t staying to listen to such foolishness. He jumped onto his horse.

  “Arabella!” he yelled. “Come back! Immediately.”

  He spurred ahead, catching her in a few seconds. He jumped down. She looked up at him, her face stiff. Then, abruptly, her eyes filled with tears.

  “Brother…” she sniffed. “It was a butterfly! I just wanted to take a closer look, so I could draw it in my sketches later! We’re sketching from nature right now. I didn’t mean…”

  “Hush, now,” Matthew said, feeling terrible. He reached across and wrapped his arms around her, fishing awkwardly in his pocket. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to give you a fright.”

  “I didn’t mean to bother you either,” Arabella sniffed. “It was a big misunderstanding.”

  Matthew shut his eyes. He opened them again and felt no less foolish. He looked back. The chaperone was still standing in the road. He felt his anger settle on her.

  He walked back with Arabella, holding her hand, but his thoughts were directed at Alexandra, who walked along behind. It was her fault for letting Arabella run around like a young scalawag.

  “You don’t take enough care of her,” he hissed at her as soon as they were back at the house. Arabella was running ahead, paying no attention.

  “I don’t?” she retorted. She spoke softly. “One thing I know for certain is that not allowing anyone to take risks is no way to look after them. That’s for your benefit.” Her voice was mild.

  “My benefit?” he clenched his teeth, enraged. “How dare you? I spend every waking moment worrying for her. How dare you? My benefit, indeed!”

  “You don’t want anything to happen to her. That’s all you’re thinking of,” she countered patiently. “Do you know what she wants?”

  Matthew swore, but he couldn’t think of a retort.

  “You don’t know,” the chaperone said patiently. “I thought not. I never saw wrapping someone in layers of wadding benefit them. Consider talking to her, your Grace. I assure you; it is possible to keep someone safe without placing needless restrictions.”

  “Ridiculous blathering,” he muttered. He felt embarrassed, and it fueled his anger.

  She was right – he never spoke to Arabella about her wants. Not really. Most of the time he was with her he spent reprimanding her about one thing or another.

  “Trying to throw your weight around doesn’t help,” she said lightly. “Didn’t work too well for King Charles, did it?”

  “How dare you quote history at me?” he snapped. As she grinned, he flushed.

  She said nothing, but her expression told him that she’d won. He found himself left without anything to say. It was strange, especially considering that she was a servant in his home! He stormed off but didn’t go far before he stopped to let her walk up to him.

  “Sorry,” he said, feeling the heat in his face lessen somewhat. He cleared his throat, feeling awkward. “I…if I insulted you, I apologize.”

  “I accept your apology,” she nodded. “I would feel better, though, if I thought you had heard my discourse.”

  “I heard it,” he muttered. He looked up, and she caught his eye. He looked over at the gardens.

  She stepped back, and he was surprised by how foolish he felt, and how much he actually did respect her. It had been hard, arguing with her, and she was more than his equal – she would be an opponent for anybody! It also happened that she was right.

  Maybe he did try to restrict Arabella somewhat.

  “I’ll go inside.” She was still standing looking up at him, and he felt more than a little foolish. “I must speak with my sister.”

  “Yes, your Grace.”

  Feeling a fool, Matthew walked back towards the house. He went straight up to the drawing-room, where he found Arabella. She had put out her sketchbook and was busy drawing something. She looked up when he came in, brows raised.

  “Arabella, I hope I didn’t frighten you earlier,” Matthew said awkwardly. “It was unfair. You didn’t mean any harm, and I’m quite sure nothing would have happened to you.”

  “You were just being careful,” Arabella contradicted him. “And I saw the butterfly, so it wasn’t all bad, yes?” She gestured to her paints, where she was mixing the colors, ready to paint the wings in.

  Matthew grinned. “Yes, it seems you feel better. Now, I’m going to go and see if Mr. Denning will bring us up some tea. I am starving after taking all that exercise. I’ll have tea before Albert gets here.”

  Arabella laughed. “Good! And cake, please. Lots of it. I think Cook made jam pie, so have him send up an extra helping, if he can.”

  Matthew chuckled.

  After he’d made sure Arabella was comfortable and spent some time with her while she chatted about the tea-party they were going to attend, he went upstairs.

  “Damn that governess,” he murmured.

  That was unkind – Alexandra was a companion, not a governess. And it wasn’t all her fault – some of the blame was his. But he was still furious about it. All the same, he found that the emotions he was feeling were not so much fury as frustration that she was right. Despite the shocking truth that she was a chaperone and just a servant, he had to agree he’d enjoyed their discourse.

  She was a delightful arguer.

  He grinned. Stuck out here in Blakeley, he
rarely had a chance to talk with many people. Albert, certainly, and a few chaps from their circle. He’d missed a challenge, though, and she certainly provided that.

  He shook his head and walked back from the window to the desk. He had letters to write and things to prepare before meeting with his friend.

  Chapter 5

  Alex tensed. She was in the hallway, and two of the maids were coming up to her. She was feeling ill at ease – the argument with his Grace the previous afternoon shocked her. What had she done?

  I could have been fired.

  She swallowed hard. She hadn’t thought about it. Arabella had worried her since she arrived – the girl herself was delightful, but Matthew – she really should use his title – had been overprotective. She could see that Arabella had suffered from that, from his constant rebukes and restriction.

  But was it necessary to risk so much?

  She sighed. It was her nature. Not her position, nor his title, mattered anything compared to Arabella.

  The maids walked past, and she strained to hear what they were saying.

  “Have to take these up,” the first woman said.

  “What does she need those for? Can’t a person go to tea in ordinary shoes?”

  One of them snorted.

  “You know the nobs,” the other one said after a moment. “Shoes for everything. Dancing, walking, riding! What’ll she wear?”

  “The governess?” the other maid asked. “Heaven knows! Not paid to look good, are they?”

  They both sniggered. Alexandra tensed. She knew that the staff didn’t like her, but that was just rude! There was nothing wrong with the way she looked – and, as they pointed out, it wasn’t her job to be fashionable or stylish! In fact, quite the opposite. She felt her stomach twist awkwardly. She didn’t have anything to wear.

  She was going to be escorting Arabella to a fashionable tea. She not only had nothing to wear – there was the other problem of being in public. What if someone saw her; someone who might recognize her? Here at Blakeley, there was no chance – but at someone else’s home, with other staff drifting in and out constantly?

  “Miss?” a small voice called. Alexandra stiffened. “Miss?”

  “Lady Arabella!” she grinned as the young girl appeared, looking up at her worriedly. “Why are you here? And please, call me by my name. We did agree to it since you should really trust me.”

  “Of course,” Arabella grinned. “Alexandra. Sorry…my brother was angry again this morning and it made me feel scared. But I feel much better now. And you’re here! Come on! We must get dressed!”

  “We must?” Alexandra frowned. As far as she was concerned, she was dressed. She was wearing the cream gown that she’d worn for every important interaction with the family – high collar, long sleeves, stiff fabrication. She thought it was appropriate for a governess. Or a chaperone. And besides, it was the only formal-looking gown she had brought with her. “And what did your brother say?”

  “Oh!” Arabella looked up, wide-eyed. “He wasn’t angry with me! He was just all annoyed and unsettled and shouting at Albert. Politics again. I do hate the stuff.”

  Alexandra smiled warmly. “I believe it brings out the worst in people sometimes, yes. But we shan’t let it bother us. I do wonder why he was so annoyed?” She found herself frowning, thinking about the Duke.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Probably just feeling poorly,” Arabella shrugged.

  “Yes, that’s probably it,” Alexandra replied. She herself was less certain. She couldn’t help thinking of the previous day and the argument they had with each other. Was he still smarting from that?

  “Come on, then!” Arabella said, taking her hand. “Let’s go! It’s two o’ clock and we have to get dressed if we want to get there on time.”

  “I also have to dress?” Alexandra asked, looking down again at her cream, high-necked dress and plucking awkwardly at the stiff, long skirt.

  “Yes! Of course.” Arabella looked up. “We’re going to tea, and you’re invited. I thought you could borrow a dress from me.”

  “My Lady!”

  Arabella grinned. “Come upstairs! I know you’re tall, but I feel sure one of my dresses will fit you. We’re quite similar in shape. And we can lengthen it if we have to…there’s still time.”

  Alexandra swallowed. “My Lady…”

  But Arabella was already running ahead, heedless of the surprise her gesture caused.

  “Lady Arabella, I can’t accept so much kindness,” she said, but then stopped. Arabella had run into her bedchamber and was gesturing Alexandra to join her. She hesitated.

  “Please, enter,” Arabella said, beckoning to her. The room was well-lit, the furnishings all in white, including the wallpaper. It was bright and vast, scented with jasmine-scent and powder, and Alexandra swallowed hard, feeling uncomfortable. She hadn’t been in Arabella’s bedroom before, and she had a strong feeling she shouldn’t be. It was her private place, and it seemed inappropriate or Alexandra to be there.

  “My Lady…” she looked around. Her eyes registered fabric bundles on the furniture, and it took her a moment to realize what she saw. Arabella had ordered dresses laid out, and Alexandra felt her heart thump. There were so many!

  “Choose one!” Arabella said. “I decided mine yesterday. I’m wearing the sprig muslin. Brother says it’s got sprigs in a green print that bring out my eye-color. I like it because it’s light and airy!” She twirled around, her long hair flowing as she moved.

  Alexandra paled. The dresses – hanging on the wardrobe or resting on the chaise – were costly. Alexandra, who knew about fabrics, could judge the value of them quite swiftly, and knew that they represented a sizeable portion of anyone’s monthly allowance. Arabella was so generous, though, that she was willing to lend them to someone she barely knew!

  “Thank you, my Lady,” Alexandra said gently. “I like all of them. If it agrees with you, the pink will suit me.”

  The pink dress lay on the chair by the window. It was high-necked, stiff and quite old. Alexandra guessed that it was the cheapest of the dresses, made of ordinary linen. It was also the one that, she reckoned, best suited her role as chaperone.

  “Oh, Alexandra! Are you sure?” Arabella frowned. “It’s an old one. Here. This one is becoming for you. And I like the cream color. It shows up your eyes.”

  Alexandra gaped. The cream one was made of expensive muslin.

  “I would be happy to wear the pink,” she murmured.

  “I prefer the cream. You’re pretty and it does you no good to hide yourself. Didn’t you teach me that beauty is a blessing, and that we should celebrate ours?” Arabella looked up.

  Alexandra swallowed hard. She had said something similar – the day before when they’d discussed humanity. She nodded.

  “If you say so, my Lady,” she said. “And thank you. It’s a beautiful dress and I’m touched. You are kind.”

  “No, I just wanted to see you in something nice for a change!” Arabella grinned. “I wanted to lend it to you, and I’d be cross if you declined.”

  Alexandra smiled. She watched as Arabella’s maid – the only person on the staff who was friendly, a young woman a little older than herself called Brenna, went into the adjoining room.