Runaway Miss

by Mary Nichols

  Emma led the servants back downstairs, leaving them to refill the jugs and take them to Alex, and went to find Mrs Summers to tell her what had happened, the result of which Amelia found herself entertaining Mr Maddox again. Dressed in Alex’s clothes—a white shirt, whose sleeve ends flapped over his wrists, blue pantaloons that came down over his feet, and a coat that swamped him—he looked quite comical. ‘My own fault,’ he said, when they laughed. ‘Shouldn’t have taken the little boat out.’

  ‘You should learn to swim before you take a dip in two hundred feet of water,’ Alex said.

  ‘Is it as deep as that?’

  ‘Just there it is.’

  ‘Then I have had a lucky escape. I am in your debt, Malvers.’ He turned to Mrs Summers. ‘And to you, dear lady, for your hospitality. And Miss…’ He paused, as if unable to remember her name.

  ‘Draper,’ she said.

  ‘Ah, yes, Miss Draper. My thanks to you.’

  Alex noticed him smiling and looking at Emma with his head on one side, as if sizing her up. He felt a frisson of unease and quickly began asking Jeremy what he was trying to do when his boat capsized.

  ‘Measuring the course, for the swim,’ he said promptly. ‘I had tied a hundred feet of line to the finish and was paying it out to find the spot for the platform. I was dragging that too, with an anchor on it. The line snagged and I turned to try to free it and then everything started to rock and I had to let go of the platform and it bumped into the side of the boat and that was it. I was in the water and the line was wrapped around me.’

  ‘You should not have tried to do it single-handed.’

  ‘I know that now.’

  ‘Someone will have to go and secure the platform before it becomes a danger to shipping,’ Alex told him. ‘I will do it as soon as we have eaten.’

  ‘Do you feel strong enough?’ Amelia asked him. ‘After all, you have just had a gruelling swim.’

  ‘I am perfectly well, Aunt. None the worse. What about you, Maddox, will you rest here?’

  ‘If I may.’ He looked down at the clothes he was wearing with a rueful grin. ‘Can’t go out in this rig, can I?’

  The result was that the two men parted and Alex did not see Maddox again until he returned for dinner. By then his friend was wearing his own clothes, though they were not as immaculate as they had been before being immersed in lake water. But at least they fitted. He sat in a chair in Alex’s room, watching him while he changed into something more fitting for dinner with the ladies.

  ‘Malvers,’ he said tentatively, ‘do you remember when we were talking after that night at Brooks’s—you know, when Bentwater asked for Sir George’s stepdaughter?’

  ‘Yes, of course. Why?’

  ‘You said if we had not agreed to play, the situation would not have occurred. You felt responsible.’

  Alex paused in the middle of tying his cravat, wondering what was coming. ‘So?’

  ‘Am I right in deducing you have tried to do something about her after all?’

  ‘What do you suppose I have done?’

  ‘Brought her up here incognito.’ He paused, but when Alex did not answer but went on tying his cravat, added, ‘I am right, aren’t I?’

  ‘What gave you that idea?’

  ‘Miss Draper. She is uncommonly tall, and Lady Emma is also uncommonly tall. And she disappeared at the same time you did.’

  ‘Is that all the evidence you have?’

  ‘Yes. Except she has a certain presence, a superior way of carrying herself and speaking that smacks of breeding.’

  ‘Not much to go on, is it?’

  ‘I am right, though, am I not?’

  ‘Supposing you are—and I am not saying for a moment that you are—what do you propose doing about it?’

  ‘Why, nothing. I admire your nerve, taking her out from under their noses. Most chivalrous thing I ever heard. But I would not like to be in your shoes if Sir George or Bentwater find out.’

  ‘How will they find out? Are you going to tell them?’

  ‘Me? Certainly not. You may rely on me to keep my tongue between my teeth.’

  Alex grinned. ‘If I thought you would not, I would throw you right back into the lake.’

  ‘Do you think she is safe up here?’

  ‘I hope so. At least until after the regatta, then I am going to take her home.’

  ‘Back to her parents?’

  ‘No, you ass, to Buregreen. As my wife.’

  Jeremy laughed. ‘I thought you said you would not shackle yourself to an unknown filly. Your words, not mine.’

  ‘She is not unknown now. I have come to know her very well.’

  ‘Then let me felicitate you.’

  ‘Time enough for that after the regatta. Do you still want to help with it?’

  ‘Of course. You do not think an unplanned dip is going to stop me, do you? I know it is going to be a great success. And I am vastly looking forward to the ball. I have sent home for an evening dress suitable for the occasion.’

  Alex laughed as he shrugged himself into his blue super-fine coat and adjusted the cuffs of his shirt. He felt sure Emma’s secret was safe with Maddox. ‘Shall we go down to dinner?’

  Preparations went on apace, the boats were finished, the fortress built and painted, the viewing platforms erected, though it would be Charlotte and not Emma who was going to be kidnapped and rescued. Charlotte was full of her role and insisted on countless rehearsals, which Emma could hardly bear to watch. It was her own fault, flaring up like she had; it had changed everything between her and Alex.

  They spoke politely to each other and not for a minute did either drop the pretence that she was Miss Fanny Draper, lady’s companion. It was as if they had never had that dreadful confrontation. Emma wondered if he had managed to wipe it from his memory, but she never could. The words ‘marriage of convenience’ were seared into her brain, though neither of them had ever actually uttered them.

  She had even come to accept Jeremy Maddox’s presence. He came to dine frequently, and sometimes the doctor and his family or the Pettifers would join them and then there would be laughter and gaiety, though Emma was careful to stay in the background, ignored by everyone except Mrs Summers. Charlotte flirted outrageously with Alex, who seemed to be enjoying it, so that it was all Emma could do not to scream her frustration at him.

  The Reverend Mr Griggs sometimes brought his wife and daughter, but James never came. Emma knew he would not forgive Alex for humiliating him. It was when she thought of that episode and the way Alex had defended her, that she wondered if she had been too hasty in turning down his thoughtless proposal. Could they have made a good marriage on so poor a beginning? It was a question she could not answer and would not be given the opportunity to test because he had not repeated it. And always, always in the back of her mind was that she could not impose on Mrs Summers for ever and sooner or later she would have to go home.

  She sometimes wondered what was happening there. How was her mother? She had had only one other letter from Harriet and that was in reply to hers saying she would not be able to return for the wedding. Harriet had written about her wedding, the clothes, the guests and the fact that they were, the very next day, going to travel to Europe for their wedding tour. She said nothing of Sir George or her mother and Emma supposed nothing had changed. And then everything changed.

  She was just leaving a haberdashery shop in Ambleside, the day before the regatta was to take place, when she saw a coach pulling up outside the Unicorn. Although a luxurious equipage, it had obviously travelled a long way, being dusty and mud-begrimed, its four horses bone weary, their manes and sides also spattered with mud. She gave it only a cursory glance, but when she saw who was stepping down from it, she was shocked to the core. She stood, wondering which way to run, for run she must, when he turned and saw her. A wide grin spread across his features and he gave her an elaborate bow.

  Fearing he was going to cross the road to her, she fled. ‘I shall find yo
u again,’ he called after her, though he made no attempt to follow.

  He had found her! That loathsome Lord Bentwater had come to her sanctuary and now it was a sanctuary no longer. She sped on, her breath coming in gasps. Down Church Street and the Rothay Road and into Borrans Road and up the lane to Highhead Hall she stumbled. She almost fell in the kitchen door, expecting to find Mrs Granger there, but the room was empty. She made her way through to the back parlour, only to find that empty too. She remembered Mrs Summers saying something about going to Bowness. Alex would be down by the lake with Mr Maddox. It was Mr Maddox’s fault, pretending to be so friendly and helpful when all the time he had recognised her and betrayed her. That was why Bentwater had called out that he would find her. He had been told where to look…

  Panic filled her. There was nothing for it, she must disappear again and quickly. It was not only herself she was thinking of, but Alex and Mrs Summers. They must not be implicated. She loved them both too much to put them through the ignominy of being accused of kidnapping her, when all they had done was to help her. However angry she was with Alex, she recognised the debt she owed him. Why he had seen fit to protect her she did not know, probably never would know, but now it was her turn to protect him.

  But where could she go where that man would never find her? It would be risky to take a coach because it would be too easy to follow her. She needed somewhere to lie low, at least for a time. Running up to her room, she changed into her old grey striped dress, put a purse containing the five guineas she still had from pawning her pearls into her pocket, then pulled out her old carpet bag and packed everything she had brought with her from London, anything that could identify her and prove she had been sheltering here.

  Once that was done, she looked around at the familiar room and then, choking on sobs, took the bag down to the kitchen, stuffed some food and a bottle of water into the top of it and left the house. She crossed the road and made her way over the bridge and up to Loughrigg. She knew the way now; knew how to avoid the walkers by scrambling over rough ground instead of using the path, and was soon standing outside the shepherd’s hut that had housed Mrs Yates.

  The old sofa, the straw-stuffed mattress, the rickety table and two chairs were still there. So was some kindling by the fireplace, a few items of chipped crockery and a pan, though she dare not light a fire for fear the smoke might be seen. She did not want to shut the door; it was the only way light could come in and she wanted to be able to see anyone approaching. She left it open and slumped on to the sofa, disturbing a field mouse, which scuttled outside. She was almost sorry it had gone, leaving her without company of any sort.

  ‘Here I am and here I stay until the regatta is over,’ she said aloud, as if the sound of her own voice would comfort her. When the town was filled with visitors and there was a lot of noise with guns going off and cheering as everyone concentrated on the battle, she would creep out and get on a coach. She would go as far as her five guineas would take her and then look for work. She grimaced at the thought—from earl’s daughter to lady’s companion and now down to what? Kitchen maid? Scrubber of floors? Washer of dirty linen? And no one to befriend her, as Mrs Summers had done. And all because her mother had married a man with no scruples, no scruples at all. Cold and alone, she put her head into her hands and wept in utter despair.

  Alex worked until dusk. He took a last look at his assembled fleet, then went into Bowness to make a few last-minute purchases before rowing over to the fortress to make sure everything was ready. For the last week the towns and villages about the lake had been filling up with visitors; every bed in every hotel and inn had been taken for miles around. It was going to be a grand occasion, far larger than his first conception of it. Satisfied that the regatta was going according to plan, even if his private life was not, he returned to the jetty at Waterhead.

  Jeremy had had a wooden hut built by the water that he called his office. It was where he listed the names of the entrants to the races, what the prizes would be and who had donated them. He had hoisted a flag on the roof. It was pale blue and sewn on to it were the words, Windermere Regatta. On the door was a notice: Mr Jeremy Maddox, starter. Alex put his head in the door. ‘Time to leave off,’ he said. ‘Come back with me for dinner.’

  Jeremy left the hut, locking the door carefully behind him. ‘Much appreciated, Malvers. The landlady at my hotel is rushed off her feet and is not inclined to oblige me with meals out of normal hours.’

  ‘I hope my aunt is a little more flexible,’ Alex said, smiling. ‘Otherwise we shall have to resort to emptying the butter boat over Mrs Granger or going hungry. I’m starving.’

  They made their way into the house through the kitchen, where Mrs Granger was banging about scraping uneaten food into a waste bin. She seemed more than a little agitated. ‘Sorry we are late, Mrs Granger, have you kept something for us?’

  ‘Yes, but you had better go and see Mrs Summers first, my lord. In a right stew she is.’

  ‘Why? Because we are late? Surely she and Miss Draper did not wait for us?’

  ‘She is in the drawing room,’ she said, not answering his question.

  Alex lost his jovial air as he realised something was wrong. He hurried to the drawing room with Jeremy close behind. As soon as he entered the room, Amelia flung herself at him. ‘Alex, she’s gone. Emma has disappeared.’ She suddenly noticed Jeremy and realised her mistake. ‘Oh, I did not see you there, Mr Maddox. You must excuse me—I am so worried, I shall forget my own name next.’

  Alex looked back at him and then at his aunt. ‘Jeremy knows, but we can trust him. Now, what’s this about Emma?’

  ‘She has disappeared. I came back from my shopping, but she was out. I did not think anything of it, she often goes out on her own, though we never should have allowed it. When she had not come back by dinner time, I went up to her room. Alex, her things have gone!’ The last words were a wail of distress.

  ‘Did she leave a note?’

  ‘No, nothing. And she took only what she had when she arrived. Everything I bought for her has been left behind.’

  ‘She cannot have gone far. We must find her. If anything has happened to her…’ He could not go on. ‘Did she have any money?’

  ‘I don’t think so. Five guineas, perhaps. It was all she had when she arrived and I would not take it from her. She may have spent it. I do not know. Oh, Alex, what are we going to do?’

  ‘Find her. Come on, Maddox, we must organise the men.’ He rushed outside to the stable block where many of the men he had employed had made comfortable quarters. In no time at all, they were despatched to all points of the compass, some to Ambleside, some to Bowness, some to Kendal, some to comb the fells, though he did not think she would go there so late in the day. It was already dark and the wind was getting up again. If she had taken her bag and a little money, it must mean she intended to leave the area and his best course would be to check the coaching inns. He had his horse saddled and set off to do that himself.

  The first person he saw when he went into the Unicorn was Lord Bentwater. ‘Evening, Malvers,’ the man said, revealing his yellow teeth in a grin.

  Chapter Eleven

  Alex strode forward, an accusation on his lips, but then he checked himself. If Bentwater had not seen Emma, it would not do any good to alert him to her presence in the area. He forced himself to sound friendly. ‘Bentwater, what brings you here?’

  ‘This seems to be the place to be,’ he said. ‘London is empty and it looks as if everyone has decamped here. I would never have found a bed if one had not been booked for me. You are a dark horse, my friend.’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’ He was itching to get away and continue his search for Emma, but must show no impatience to this man. If he knew where Emma was…

  ‘Why, your ability to put a place on the map. All this hustle and bustle over a regatta.’

  ‘There is nothing new in that. The Lake District is already a popular destination. All I have done
is revive an old tradition.’

  ‘To some effect.’

  ‘How did you hear about it?’

  ‘It has been reported in the newspapers.’

  ‘In the London papers?’ he queried in surprise.

  ‘Yes, of course. How you were employing old soldiers and destitute women and children, and saving my good friend Maddox from drowning. It is the latest on dit.’

  Alex groaned inwardly. He had trusted Jeremy and now it looked as though his trust had been misplaced. ‘Did he tell you that?’

  ‘I read it, I told you. And I thought I would have a little holiday, see the spectacle. And to take the opportunity for a little wager here and there.’

  ‘No other reason?’

  ‘No, should there be?’ His smile was oily.

  ‘I am flattered you should think it worth your while. Has London lost its attraction?’

  ‘Oh, yes. All my friends appear to be here.’

  ‘Did you come up by stage or the mail?’

  ‘Neither, brought my own coach. I shall need it to convey my bride home.’

  ‘Your bride? ’It was all Alex could do not to choke, though he had guessed that the man’s arrival must have something to do with Emma.

  ‘Yes, you remember Lady Emma Lindsay, stepdaughter to Sir George Tasker?’

  ‘I have not had the pleasure of meeting the lady.’

  ‘No?’ Again that predatory smile.

  ‘I remember you striking a bargain with Sir George over his vouchers. I never knew the outcome.’