by Mary Nichols
Duncan, hearing the faint indrawing of her breath, turned to look at her and was surprised to see her tears. The disdainful, the haughty, the cool Miss Sadler was weeping, and she was no longer disdainful or haughty or even cool, though her cheeks were pinched with cold. Something had touched a soft spot to make her cry and he longed to comfort her. He half lifted a hand towards her but thought better of it and dropped it back to his side.
‘I now declare you man and wife.’ The parson’s words broke in on his thoughts. Man and wife. Duncan Blair and Helen Sadler. Could it, would it work? But he did not know if that was her real name. Did it matter? And she was not a gentlewoman, not of the aristocracy, not someone of whom his father would approve. Did that matter either? She was probably a liar, might even be a thief. Was that important to him? No, he told himself, the only thing that mattered was that he loved her.
Why he loved her, he could not say, except that his whole mind was concentrated on her, on everything she did and said, every nuance of her speech, every fleeting expression which crossed her piquant face. His body ached to hold her in his arms, to rouse her from her underlying sadness to ecstasy, to make her happy. He knew he was a fool but he could not help it.
‘Oh. I am so happy for you!’ Helen brushed the tears from her cheeks with the back of her gloved hand and moved forward to embrace Dorothy. ‘May you have all the happiness in the world.’
‘Not all,’ said Duncan wryly. ‘We need some of it.’
‘Yes,’ Dorothy said, beaming round at everyone. ‘I wish you both happy too.’
Duncan felt tempted to ask Helen to become his wife there and then, but she had deliberately turned from him to offer her congratulations to Tom and he knew she would not accept him in her present mood.
‘Come back to the hotel,’ Tom said. ‘We have a wedding breakfast laid out in a private parlour, just for the four of us.’
‘Oh, but we would be intruding,’ Helen demurred. If she spent any more time with Duncan, pretending in front of Tom and Dorothy that there was nothing wrong, she would give herself away. ‘I am sure you want to be by yourselves.’
‘No, no, we have plenty of time for that, all our lives,’ Dorothy said, making Duncan smile. Having obtained her heart’s desire, the chit was frightened of what came next. He did not think Helen would be afraid, her response to his kiss had told him that. There was fire beneath that cool exterior, fire and depths he had as yet no knowledge of. But she could cry too… Why had she been crying? He must know.
He grinned at Tom. ‘You stopped us having breakfast if you recall. Miss Sadler and I have eaten nothing since supper last night and I, for one, am extremely hungry.’
Helen silently followed as Tom and Dorothy led the way back to the hotel. The coach had gone on to Glasgow without them and there was nothing to do before another one came along with spare seats, and she, too, was hungry. But if Captain Blair thought he could come up sweet once more, he had better think again.
They were halfway through the meal and drinking a toast to the newly weds when a commotion outside heralded the arrival of an unscheduled carriage. Helen became dimly aware of the ostlers calling out and horses neighing and a voice, loud and insistent. ‘Where are they?’ A moment later the door was flung open and a tall man with greying hair stood on the threshold. His top hat and well-cut frockcoat were covered in mud splashed from horses’ hooves and the ends of his muslin cravat, once pristine and carefully tied, were drooping.
Dorothy, who had her back to the door, heard it crash back and turned to look. ‘Papa!’
‘I’ll give you Papa,’ he said, striding forward and stopping in front of the quartet. ‘What do you think you are about, child? Your poor Mama is distraught and I have had to leave important negotiations to come chasing after you. I pray God it is not too late. You will never take if this escapade gets out, you know that don’t you? No one will have you. And as for this scapegrace…’ He pointed at Tom. ‘I’ve a mind to thrash you within an inch of your life. Now, get out of my daughter’s life. We will concoct some tale. Dorothy has been staying with her Aunt Sophia, that will do.’
‘Aunt Sophia is from home,’ Dorothy said, as if that were the most important point to pick up in the whole tirade. ‘We went there.’
‘You went to see your aunt?’ He stared at her in surprise. ‘Why do that?’
‘To wait for you. We thought Aunt Sophia would help us to persuade you.’
‘I never heard such a fribble. My sister would no more condone this than I would.’
‘Then I am glad she was not at home. Tom and I are man and wife now. There is nothing you can do about it.’
All the fight seemed to go out of him. He sank into a vacant chair at an adjoining table and stared at her for a long time. She reached out and took Tom’s hand. ‘It was done properly by the parson, with witnesses.’
‘When?’
‘An hour ago.’
‘Then you have not…’ He stopped. ‘The marriage has not been…’
‘Consummated?’ queried Tom, guessing what was in his mind. ‘No, sir, it has not. But that doesn’t make it any less of a marriage. Unless Dorothy wants it, there will be no annulment.’
‘Certainly not!’ Dorothy said, finding a new courage now that she had the ring on her finger. ‘Tom, how could you think I would want that?’
‘Then married we are and married we remain, to the end of our days.’
She smiled at her father. ‘Papa, please accept it. There is no way you can undo it and I do so want you to be happy for me.’
Mr Carstairs looked at Duncan and Helen. ‘And am I to assume, sir, that you were party to this? You helped take my child from me.’
‘Mrs Thurborn is not a child,’ Duncan said, making Dorothy giggle at the sound of her new name and almost proving Mr Carstairs’ point. If Arabella had not been faint-hearted when he suggested it all those years ago, they would have been married in like manner. It took real conviction to go through with a runaway marriage and Arabella, in spite of her protestations, had not been sure enough of her love to defy her father. For the first time he was glad of that. Now, he realised, fate had had something else in mind for him.
‘The Captain and Helen were our chaperones and witnesses,’ Tom put in.
‘Captain?’
‘Captain Duncan Blair of the Prince of Wales’s Own Hussars, at your service, sir,’ Duncan said, inclining his head.
‘And this?’ He turned towards Helen.
‘Mrs Blair,’ Duncan said before Helen could reply herself. ‘My lady wife.’
Helen drew her breath in sharply. How dare he! How dare he be so presumptuous! ‘Mr Carstairs…’ she began.
‘Tom wanted to do everything aboveboard,’ Duncan went on. ‘He told us of his plans right from the first and as my wife and I were already making arrangements to come to Scotland, we agreed to chaperone the young couple.’
‘It seems a bit smoky to me,’ Mr Carstairs said, not altogether convinced. ‘Where does Sophia come into it?’
Duncan shrugged and looked at Tom; he had done his best and now it was up to the young man.
‘Dorothy wanted someone from her family at her side,’ Tom said. ‘We thought that if Miss Carstairs could persuade you to see things our way, there would be no necessity to come all the way to Scotland. As she was not there… He smiled at the older man. ‘We had no choice. Captain and Mrs Blair could not delay their journey and they would not leave us unchaperoned. You do see how it came about…’
‘Oh, what’s done is done, I suppose,’ Mr Carstairs said, making Dorothy fly across and put her arms round him.
‘Oh, Papa, I knew you would come round.’
He disentangled himself from her. ‘But I still have words to say to that young man. In private, I think. After that, I shall be hungry as a hunter.’ He looked at the food left on the table. ‘I’ll have some of the capon and that game pie.’ He rose and Tom followed him to the other side of the room, where they were deep in conversa
tion for several minutes.
‘Captain Blair. I must thank you for what you did for us,’ Dorothy said. ‘I am sure that telling Papa we had a married couple to chaperone us all the way made all the difference.’ She giggled suddenly. ‘What a good fibber you are, Captain Blair. I do not know how you kept a straight face. And you, too, Helen.’
‘Oh, Miss Sadler is a master when it comes to hummery,’ Duncan said laconically, looking not at Dorothy but at Helen as he spoke.
Helen had no answer to that, but it reinforced her conviction that he suspected her of telling untruths. Could he possibly know her real name? Oh, how she wished she had never started the deception! Scott’s verse came to her mind: ‘Oh, what a tangled web we weave, When first we practise to deceive.’ She, who had always been honest as the day, had woven a web of deceit which was going to enmesh her totally unless she could rid herself of the ubiquitous Captain before they reached Glasgow. It was enough to make her dear mother turn in her grave.
Mr Carstairs and Tom shook hands and returned to the rest of the party. ‘Food,’ Mr Carstairs said. ‘Then back to Derby. Sophia will be back by now. She will have to be a conspirator whether she wills it or not.’ He sat down and helped himself to food while the others, who had already eaten their fill, sat and watched.
‘The weather is not good, sir,’ Duncan said. ‘I advise you not to delay your return.’
‘No, you are right.’ Reluctantly he put down his knife and fork and stood up. ‘Come, Tom. Come, Dorothy. My carriage is outside. I ordered the horses before I came in.’
Duncan and Helen followed them out to the yard where a roomy private carriage with good springs and padded seats stood with a pair of top-class horses already in the traces. A liveried driver sat on the box, reins and whip in his hands. Helen embraced Dorothy. ‘I wish you happy, my dear, and all the luck in the world.’
‘And you,’ Dorothy said, then added in a whisper, ‘don’t let him get away, whatever you do. You were made for each other.’ Then she skipped away and got into the coach, while the men shook hands. Helen stood beside Duncan and watched them go, her smile stiff on her face. As soon as they were lost to view she turned from him without speaking and made her way back into the inn.
‘Miss Sadler.’ He hurried after her. ‘We must talk.’
‘I have nothing to say to you.’
‘No? But I have something to say to you.’ He put a hand on her arm. ‘At least hear me out.’
She shrugged him off. ‘Why should I? You have behaved abominably and you know it.’
‘By introducing you as my wife? If I had not done so, what do you think Mr Carstairs would have said? What would he have done? An unmarried couple as escort would hardly be considered suitable chaperones. And your reputation…’
She did not need him to tell her that her reputation had been thoroughly compromised and wondered what the Earl of Strathrowan might say if he learned about it. ‘It is in shreds already because of you, Captain Blair,’ she said. ‘I did not ask for your escort or your protection. I should have been better off without it.’
‘If you truly believe that you are deceiving yourself as well as me,’ he said, taking her elbow and guiding her firmly back to the private parlour where the innkeeper was clearing away the remains of their meal. ‘Leave us,’ he commanded, then to Helen, as the man disappeared, ‘Sit down.’
He was so much taller than she was and she hated having to crane her neck to look up at him; it gave him the advantage. She sat down suddenly, as if her knees would no longer support her, but she managed to sound cool. ‘I am seated, Captain Blair, but I tell you now, I am not accustomed to being treated with such arrogance. I’ll allow that telling Mr Carstairs I was your wife was perhaps for the best, and it was not that I objected to, and you know it.’
He drew a chair up and sat facing her. ‘You are complaining that I kissed you?’
‘Yes. And that first night in Northampton…’
‘What about it? I did no more than I would have done for any drinking companion who was a little cut over the head, I carried you to bed and loosened your clothing, no more, though I admit I should not have alluded to it afterwards and for that I apologise.’
‘Drinking companion!’ She sprang to her feet, anger making her green eyes glitter like emeralds and her cheeks scarlet. ‘Is that how you think of me?’
He laughed; she was even more beautiful when angry. ‘No, I do not usually kiss drinking companions.’
‘No, but I expect you kiss ladies at every opportunity.’
‘Now that is something which I confess has been puzzling me.’
‘What has?’ she asked, taken by surprise.
‘Whether you are a lady or no. A lady would never travel alone and even a lady’s companion would have an escort. I cannot imagine any responsible employer expecting you to make the journey unaccompanied..’
‘No doubt he has his reasons.’
‘He? Not she?’
‘Both,’ she said quickly.
He noticed the slip. ‘You know,’ he said gently, ‘you are either a great simpleton or a great deceiver and to be honest I do not really care for either.’
‘Then why insist on staying with me?’
He smiled ruefully. ‘That, too, is something that has been baffling me. It might be plain curiosity, but I think it is more than that. I do not wish to see you in a bumblebath, you are too beautiful to languish in gaol…’
‘Gaol?’ She was startled.
He took the brooch from his purse and laid it on the table among the dirty plates with their congealing food, where it winked incongruously up at them. ‘Is this yours?’
She gasped. ‘Where did you get it?’
‘I bought it from the man you sold it to.’
‘Why? How did you know I had sold it?’
‘I followed you to the shop. Now, are you going to tell me where you got it?’
‘It was mine to sell if I wished. I have had it ever since my seventeenth birthday. My papa gave it to me.’ Tears stood in her eyes, making him hate himself. ‘I did not want to sell it, but I needed the money. I thought I had enough to last me until we reached Glasgow, but what with one thing and another…’
‘You could not pay for your board and lodgings?’
‘No.’
He sank on his haunches beside her chair and covered her hands with his own. ‘Oh, my dear, I am so sorry. But why did you not tell me of your difficulties? I could have paid your bills, given you money. You did not need to sell your most precious possession.’
‘It is not my most precious possession. I still have my mother’s betrothal ring but if there is no one to meet me in Glasgow, then that will have to go too.’
‘No, it will not.’ He put the brooch in her hand and gently closed her fingers over it. ‘Take it back, my dear, with my compliments.’
She gave a cracked laugh. ‘And what will I have to pay for it? Another kiss? Perhaps something more?’ She put the pin back on the table. ‘No, Captain Blair, the price is too high.’
He smiled. ‘You have not heard it yet.’
She sighed. ‘No doubt you are going to tell me.’
‘Do you think you will be happy with your new family? What is it you are going to be, a governess or a companion?’
‘I truly don’t know until I get there. It was all arranged for me.’
‘Good God!’ He could not suppress his astonishment and his admiration for her courage. That she was now telling the truth, he did not doubt. ‘I think you are too young to be a governess or a companion…’
She was about to give him another set-down but decided against it. ‘I am four-and-twenty.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘Not quite at my last prayers, but very close to it.’
‘Nonsense!’ he said, concealing his surprise. He had taken her for nineteen or twenty at the most. ‘Why is someone as beautiful as you are still single?’
‘Because that is what I choose to be, Captain.’
‘Then you are not g
oing to Scotland to be married?’ he queried. ‘There is no impatient bridegroom waiting for you?’
‘Of course not.’
‘What manner of man might he be, the man to capture your hand?’ he went on. ‘No doubt he would need to have a title and a fortune, so that you would never have to sell any of your possessions again.’
‘Wealth would not be a consideration,’ she said, wondering where his questions were leading. ‘I may be poor, but I am not mercenary. To me love and fidelity are the foremost requisites on both sides. They are more important than riches and definitely more important than a man’s consequence in Society. I could not marry a man who did not love me and whom I did not love. My papa and mama adored each other. Papa was inconsolable when Mama died. It changed him. He was never the same afterwards.’ Her voice had taken on a wistful note which was mixed with a kind of brittleness.
‘And now you are quite alone?’
‘Yes, but not as helpless as you would like to believe, Captain.’
‘Oh, I do not think you are helpless, Miss Sadler. What will you do if word gets out about this little misadventure?’
‘Misadventure! Is that what you call it? But why should anything be said about it?’
‘Dorothy or Tom have only to drop a hint when they return to London…’
‘Captain, we are a long way from London and I cannot think that any of my one-time friends or acquaintances have the least interest in my doings. I need consider only my own conscience and that is clear.’
‘All the same…’ He paused, taking her hand again. ‘We could be married. Here. Today.’
She looked up at him and was nearly undone. If he had asked her in any other circumstances, if she had a dowry, if her father had not been a suicide, if he had said he loved her, she might have said yes. She would have said yes because she loved him.
As it was she stiffened her back and looked back at him with unblinking green eyes. ‘Captain, have you run mad? We are complete strangers. You know nothing about me and I know nothing of you.’ He opened his mouth to say something, but she stood up and went on. ‘And that is how it will stay. Now, I am going to see if there is another coach to Glasgow today. The sooner we reach there, the sooner you may give up your self-appointed task of looking after me.’
