A Companion for Life

by Cari Hislop

  “Go away!”

  “Miss Philips, you’re barely more than a girl. Your mother isn’t going to go away.” Penryth cursed under his breath as Rosamund pushed up beside him and pummeled the door.

  “Grace Darling, I’m here to rescue you. Come away with Mamma; we’ll find you a handsome young man to marry.”

  “I’ve found a husband. I’m going to be the Countess of Morley.”

  “Darling, he’s lying…he won’t marry you. He’s ruined countless silly girls who thought he was taking them to the altar. Come away before it’s too late.”

  “Why would you let me ride with him in the park if he was such a cad?”

  “Because if you’d listened to me he might have married you, but he won’t now. He’ll think you easy. He doesn’t want a countess who might bed every footman in the county. Now come away before he gives you more than the pox.” Her daughter’s answer was a trill of triumphant laughter. “Grace!”

  “Go away!” Girlish giggles hinted at Morley’s silent attempt to keep the war going.

  Penryth sighed with relief as Rosamund fled back down the stairs her face red with fury.

  “Grace if you want to ruin yourself that’s your right, but don’t you think you owe your mother a goodbye kiss? If this wedding falls through you’re going to need her help. It would be prudent…”

  “Morley says you just want me to open the door so you can drag me away.” Penryth silently cursed Morley to hell and tried another tactic. “If you want your mother to give you your dowry you’ll have to act like a woman and come tell your mother to her face that, that’s what you want.”

  “Morley doesn’t care if I have a dowry. He’s so rich it doesn’t matter now go away I hate you.”

  “Your mother’s very upset…”

  “I don’t care. Morley says you can go to the devil.” Girlish giggles were joined by loud masculine moans.

  Penryth felt his stomach heave as his calm mask crumbled in disgust. “Come away from Morley or I’ll stand here and sing all night. Sheep have been known to jump off cliffs to escape the sound. There’s nothing like a captive audience!” He’d reached the second verse when he caught sight of flickering light in the corner of his eyes. “Rosamund, what the devil are you doing?”

  “I’m saving my darling girl.” She held a candle against the door trying to set it on fire.

  “You’re going to set yourself alight…give me the candle…”

  “No! I’m going to save Grace.”

  “She doesn’t want saving.” He said the words loudly in hope Grace would open the door. “We should leave her to face the consequences of her actions. She’ll come to her senses as soon as she realizes Morley isn’t going to marry her.”

  “I’m not leaving…” Rosamund kicked the door to emphasize the statement. “…without my daughter.”

  “Stop kicking the door and go away! You’re ruining my life.”

  “I’m not leaving ‘till you open this door you stupid little fool.”

  “Rosamund, calling the child names won’t endear you…”

  “Shut up you Welsh leek. What do you know about raising children?”

  “Beside the fact I used to be one, I have been raising my nephew.”

  “A fine cad he turned out to be. I’m glad I didn’t marry you. All our children would have been half leek.”

  “If you continue calling me a leek I shall address you as carrot.”

  “And you call yourself a gentleman?”

  “Both of you shut up and go away! Morley says he can’t make love with you talking and singing outside our room.”

  “It sounds to me as if you neglected to teach your eldest brat basic manners. It’s just as well she’s ruined herself. She’d have embarrassed the whole family given another season, but then she is rather young and stupid. Thankfully William fell over and hit his head the other day and now he can’t remember being engaged or what possessed him to contemplate such a harebrained…”

  The door jerked open. Grace, her face red with rage glared at her two unwanted rescuers. She was oblivious to the fact that the neckline of her chemise had been untied and was exposing one of her breasts. Rosamund moaned in horror as she reached to cover up her daughter. “Darling…” Her hands were slapped away. “Your uncle can see your charms.”

  “I don’t care. You’re too late; I’m going to be the next Countess of Morley and you’re going to grow old somewhere else.” The girl was joined at the door by the aging rakehell who’d thrown on a dressing gown, his naked chest and legs suggesting his previous activities. Rosamund hyperventilated in horror as Morley put a proprietary hand on Grace’s bare flesh and made a show of kissing her neck.

  “Your graceful daughter will make a magnificent countess…don’t you think? She’s so lovely…so innocent…at least she was.” The man’s thin lips smiled mocking Rosamund’s rage.

  “Take your poxy hand off my daughter.”

  “She tempted me with a sample of our future wedded bliss and I did eat.”

  “You’re not going to get away with this you scab. You’re going to marry her or her father will call you out and kill you.”

  “Which father would that be? The blind drunk or Thomas Grayson who I understand spends time at Mr Philip’s estate every summer, nine months before the birth of your children? A ducal bastard to father your hopeful ducal bastards; how thorough.”

  Grace’s eyes went wild with shock and anger. “I’m not a bastard! I’m Grace Philips…Mamma; tell Morley I’m a Philips!”

  “Mr Philips couldn’t consummate the marriage. Your blood is nobler than a Philips. You’re a Grayson. It’s why I named you Grace Anne.”

  Grace paled with horror. “My godfather can’t be my father. I can’t be Mr Grayson’s…I can’t! I’m Grace Philips.”

  “It doesn’t matter who your real father is darling. You’re not a bastard; Mr Philips recognizes you as his legal daughter. It doesn’t matter who provided the seed.”

  Morley’s cynical smile was turned on Penryth. “I’d wager my fortune you’re glad she jilted you. I wonder how many bastards she’d have given your name.”

  Penryth looked the man in the eyes. “The girl’s as pale as death, or doesn’t that mean anything to you? She clearly didn’t know.”

  “How could she not know she’s a Grayson? She must have heard the gossip as she passed similar looking blonde debutantes as they wondered which of their fathers had provided Mr Philips with a daughter. It’s a pity the rest of Mr Grayson’s bastards didn’t turn out as comely.”

  Rosamund slapped the sneering Earl who merely smiled in amusement. “Darling, don’t get upset…it’s nothing…” Grace was turning blue as her angry eyes focused on her mother. “Please don’t look at me like that…if I hadn’t bed Mr Grayson you wouldn’t exist. I’ve done everything for you…you’ve always been my favorite… calm down…we’ll go sit by a fire and calmly talk about this… you needn’t get upset…” Grace suddenly gasped for air causing Rosamund to back away in fear. “Don’t lose your temper Grace Anne…Morley will think you’re a harridan. Grace I love you; I’d do anything for you…” Grace clenched her fists. Her face contorted with rage, an ear splitting scream made the two men cringe in pain as she rushed at her mother like a demon unleashed from hell. Penryth was momentarily stunned senseless as the slim girl who didn’t look strong enough to lift more than a full chocolate pot clawed her mother’s hat off and pulled chunks of hair from her head. Rosamund’s screams of pain and cries for help pulled him into the fray.

  Dragging the girl off her mother, Penryth found himself the new focus of her rage. Her fingernails were knives clawing at his face and then his cravat was being twisted until he couldn’t breathe as he resisted the impulse to smash his fist into his attacker’s face. He could hear Morley laughing and clapping at the improvised entertainment as he fell to his knees gasping for air. Vicious bare feet kicked him in the chest. He grabbed a foot and pulled his niece to the ground, but a solid kic
k in the lungs with her free foot winded him and she was running towards Rosamund who was hurrying for the stairs. Penryth was crawling into a run as the demon in white jumped onto her mother’s back screaming curses. Rosamund beat off her daughter with her fists and floored the girl with a blow. She reached the top of the stairs, but her daughter raced up behind her and shoved her hard. The girl stood there glaring at her mother as the older woman tumbled down the stairs. Penryth grabbed the girl’s arms and held them behind her as he wrenched her around to face Morley lounging in the door smiling. Penryth could taste blood, but he needed to turn the girl’s attention away from her mother so he could carry the older woman to safety. “Morley; take your bride back to bed and calm her down with a few kisses. You’re the one who dragged her out into the cold; you should be the one to warm her.”

  “I’m not chaining myself to a raving virago.”

  “You said you loved me!”

  “I lied. You silly little girls are all the same. You think if you ride off into the rain with a Lord he’ll make you his Lady. I want a woman who doesn’t want my title or me. You’re too easy. Quel dommage!” Grace burst free of restraint and flew at Morley. Penryth didn’t wait to see the debaucher being savaged. A masculine scream of pain was enough to know Morley was receiving a taste of justice. Hopefully the girl would tear the rakehell apart. Penryth rushed down the stairs, relieved to see Rosamund slowly sitting up as the travelers in the common room gathered around the bottom of the stairs to stare at her exposed silk stockings.

  “Innkeeper! Send for the doctor…”

  The man appeared at the bottom of the stairs with an apprehensive expression. “We’re waiting for the mail coach. As soon as it’s come…”

  “I’m going to carry her to a room.”

  “You’ll have to pay first; we’ll have to change the bed linen if she dies.” Penryth threw the man a coin and received a deep bow. “The room at the end on the left is free Sir.”

  “Thank you.” Penryth was sure his sarcastic tone was wasted on the smiling yokel. “Rosamund? Does anything feel broken?”

  “I just fell down the stairs, what do you think?”

  “Your tongue is uninjured.”

  “Oh my head…my shoulder…”

  “We’ll send for the doctor. We’ll stop here overnight and return to London tomorrow.”

  “I’m not stopping in this bed bug infested mouse-hole. I’m leaving and without that she-devil. Morley can have her and good riddance.”

  “You can’t leave your daughter at Morley’s mercy…I think she just bit him. He’ll kill her!”

  “Better him than me. Imagine the scandal if I were to be hung for killing my own daughter. If anyone deserves an early trip to hell it’s Morley. You heard her; she wants me to go so I’m going.” Rosamund pulled herself up and clinging to the banister carefully continued the descent still being watched by people below.

  “She’s your child!”

  “She tried to kill me. She’s a lunatic. I’m leaving.”

  “We’re not leaving without her.”

  “She’s put herself beyond the pale. I disown her.”

  “You’re not going anywhere.”

  “You can’t stop me, you’re not my husband.”

  “Don’t be a cow Rosamund. She’s only seventeen. We’re not leaving her.”

  “If you want to risk life and limb transporting her to Bedlam be my guest. You’ll have to pay them to take her.”

  “We can’t leave. The horses need to rest. Go upstairs and lay down. I’ll see to Grace.”

  “See yourself to the devil; I’m leaving if I have to take the mail coach. I’m not staying here to be murdered by that fiend.”

  “Mamma!” Grace appeared at the top of the stairs clutching her chemise closed over her chest looking like a frightened little girl. Tears gushed out of her two swollen eyes and down her bruised cheeks. Her lips looked badly painted as Morley’s blood dripped off her lips, spattering white linen.

  “You wanted me to go, I’m going.”

  “Mamma…I’m so tired. I want to go home.”

  “You wanted to run away with Morley; so run away.”

  “I want to go home Mamma, I hate Morley.”

  “I wash my hands of you.”

  “What do you mean? Mamma!”

  Penryth rubbed his throat and tried to sound calm as he said, “Grace, go to the left room at the end of hall. You can sleep there tonight. I’ll get your clothes from Morley.”

  “I hate you. I want my Mamma.”

  “Your mamma isn’t feeling well. She hit her head on the stairs. She needs to rest. She’ll be better in the morning.”

  “Yes, I’ll be far away from her; she’s no longer my daughter.”

  “Of course I’m your daughter. Mamma I feel unwell. I need to go home.”

  “How do you think I feel? You shoved me down the stairs. I could have broken my neck. You’re lucky I don’t call the local sheriff and have your arrested for attempted murder.”

  “I didn’t…Mamma come back!” Grace wrenched herself free from Penryth’s attempt to restrain her and ran down the stairs after her mother. Cursing under his breath Penryth followed at a run wishing he could snap his fingers and be home with Lily, far away from Rosamund and her violent darling. In the distance he could hear the horn announcing the approaching mail coach. He fought his way through several frantic workers carrying out sacks of post and the trunks for the passenger hoping to find one of the four seats empty. There were only a few brief minutes allowed for the transaction of post and passengers. If they weren’t in place in the allotted time, the coach would leave without them.

  Pushing his way out into the yard Penryth could see fast approaching carriage lamps lighting up a halo of swirling sleet as if the coach was traveling in its own winter. Grace glowed like an angel, the light from the Inn reflecting off her white linen as she frantically tried to fight her way into her mother’s arms. The two appeared deaf to the cursing ostlers shouting at them to leave the yard. Another blast on the horn warned the Inn yard of the approaching thunder. “Rosamund, the mail coach is coming…get out of the yard!” There was no sign that either heard. He could hear Grace sobbing, screaming demands that her mother tell her that she loved her and then the world seemed to go deathly still. Screaming horses were choked by the coachman as he frantically pulled on the reins as they galloped towards the two women; one wrestling to get away the other desperate to keep her from leaving. Penryth could hear his heart pumping blood through bursting veins as burning leg muscles carried him into the storm swirling ahead of the oncoming vehicle. He mindlessly grabbed the first body he could put his arms around and ran on out of the oncoming hooves; the unexpected weight of his burden sent them both hurtling into the mud. Screams of pain and fear stabbed his ears as he clutched his charge frantically fighting to be free. Opening his eyes, the white glow of Grace’s chemise made him feel sick with equal amounts of relief and guilt as his ears rang with solitary screams of fear and anger.

  “Mamma!” Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Rosamund’s red bonnet pressed into the mud. Swallowing the urge to be sick he found his feet and forcibly carried the screaming girl back into the Inn, up the stairs and into Morley’s room. The rakehell was sitting on the bed next to an open apothecary’s box bandaging bite marks and gashes made with razor sharp nails.

  Penryth held the sobbing girl in one arm and scooped up her pile of clothes with the other. “I want my mamma…” The girl collapsed against her hated uncle quietly sobbing.