by Diane Gaston
‘It is ridiculous to wait.’ He paced in front of her. ‘You do not need a memory to get with child. It is not as if you have other choices. How many offers do you expect to receive at your age?’
She disliked having to look up at him. ‘You see, sir, I do not know my age. That is what I am trying to make you understand—’
He waved an impatient hand. ‘You are twenty-three, if your brother told the truth about it.’
Twenty-three was old enough to be considered a spinster.
‘I have no idea what my brother told you.’
‘I suppose your birthdate is in the documents your brother sent to me when we reached a settlement.’ He stopped pacing and leaned down to her. ‘If you are planning to cry off, or if you are the sort to engage in affairs, I beg you tell me now. I have wasted enough time.’
A wave of guilt washed through her. Should she simply tell him now that she would not marry him? She did not know what to do.
She stood and faced him. ‘Sir, I have no idea if I am the sort who has affairs.’ She certainly had experienced wanton impulses with Lucien. ‘I do not know at all what sort of person I am.’
He took a step back. ‘Well, you can show me by staying away from Roper.’
Her face warmed with anger. This man failed to hear or consider anything she had to say. She’d had enough of being at the mercy of men who expected her to do what they wanted and did not listen to her.
Where had that thought come from?
Once in her room, she could not sit still.
She’d promised Lucien she would not walk out alone, but staying inside would drive her mad. The streets would be busier at this time of day. It should be safe enough.
She needed to discover how to reach Bristol. Once in Bristol she could find the school she had attended and from there beg them to find her work. Her recurrent dream about little girls seated at a school table must mean something. If it was school that could crack open her memory, she must find that school.
She put on her hat again and, before she could change her mind, walked out of the room, down the stairs and to the hall.
‘I am going out again,’ she said to the footman in the hall.
‘Going out?’ He sounded surprised.
‘Yes. To the shops.’ She walked to the door.
He stepped quickly to open it and she hurried into the street.
Chapter Eighteen
Lucien had tried to follow the stranger, but by the time he reached the buildings where he’d seen the man, he’d disappeared. He walked the streets around there, but did not see him again.
He started back to Sir Richard’s, hoping Cullen and Ella had had better luck.
As he neared Brock Street from Church, he saw Lady Rebecca walking swiftly towards the Circus. Alone.
What the devil was she doing? She’d promised not to venture out.
He took a breath, but didn’t hesitate. He followed her at some distance.
She walked past the Circus on to Gay Street, but paused and glanced around. When she spied him, she looked alarmed at first, but then stood her ground and waited for him to catch up to her.
‘Lady Rebecca—’ He was vexed with her.
‘I know. I know,’ she responded. ‘I promised not to go out alone.’
‘Then why are you?’
She averted her gaze. ‘I have errands...’
He crossed his arms over his chest. ‘You will have to do better than that.’
She returned an obstinate look.
‘Tell me.’ He softened his voice. ‘What would make you take a chance like this? It must be something important. Because I know you are not a fool.’
She lifted her eyes to him briefly, then looked away. ‘I want to find out how to go to Bristol. I’m convinced if I can find my school, my memory will come back.’
‘Can you not ask Stonecroft to take you?’ he asked. ‘He would want your memory restored, would he not?’
Her gaze met his again. ‘He thinks my memory loss a trifling matter.’
Lucien fell silent for a time as they walked down Gay Street together.
Finally he said, ‘I will take you to Bristol. There are coaches to Bristol from the West Gate Inn.’
Her step faltered. ‘Oh, Lucien. No. You need to go to London, not Bristol. It might take me several days to locate the right school.’
Yes. He should go to London, but how could he? He could not leave until he knew she was safe.
The sky that had been grey for days darkened even more and fat drops of rain pattered the pavement.
Lucien glanced up at the clouds. ‘Quick. Let us find some shelter. It will be pouring in a moment.’
They dashed behind the buildings on Trim Street and found a garden doorway that provided a semblance of shelter.
The shower grew thicker and Lucien put his arms around her to help keep her out of the rain in the small space they occupied. Their bodies were pressed together.
‘Lucien.’ She sighed and rested her head against his chest.
‘Like on the raft,’ he murmured. ‘I must hold you to keep you safe.’
He savoured the feel of her in his arms, one more moment in so many they had shared together.
She touched his shoulder. ‘How is your wound? I have not asked these several days. Does it still pain you?’
‘Very little,’ he told her. ‘Sir Richard’s surgeon examined it and removed the stitches. It is healed over.’
He’d missed the warmth of her, the scent of her. Something shifted inside him about her. Could he be happy without her? He was no longer convinced that she could be content with Stonecroft, who was so indifferent to her needs.
They did not speak, but clung to each other like they had on the raft. Perhaps that was the way to get through life, he thought. Clinging together.
The rain shower stopped as abruptly as it had begun and Lucien reluctantly released her.
‘I—I believe I should return to Lord Stonecroft’s,’ she said. ‘You have told me how to find a coach to Bristol, so I do not need to go further.’
‘I mean it, that I will take you to Bristol, if you wish it,’ he repeated.
She looked up at him and brushed the raindrops from his shoulders. ‘I will think about it.’
He offered his arm once more. ‘I will walk you back.’
They stepped around puddles behind the buildings and returned to Gay Street.
‘You know you took a risk leaving the house by yourself,’ he told her. ‘I saw the stranger when last I left you. That is why I was still out. I searched for him to no avail.’
‘I thought there would be enough people out to keep me safe,’ she said.
‘Do not take another chance like that, my lady. Not until we know more about this man and his interest in you.’
They walked several steps before she answered, ‘I will be cautious.’
It was not precisely a promise to do as he said. He must try to discover this man some other way. He’d check the inns in Bath and see if a man of his description was staying there.
They continued past the Circus until eventually they reached the Crescent.
He sounded the knocker. ‘Again I say goodbye to you, my lady.’
She took his hand in hers and smiled. ‘Again I say thank you, Lucien.’
The door opened and Lord Stonecroft stepped out. ‘Captain Roper, I would speak with you.’ He stepped aside so Lucien could enter.
Lady Rebecca gave Lucien a distressed look. He tried to return her a reassuring one, but certainly nothing good could come from this meeting. ‘Very well, sir.’
‘Lady Rebecca,’ Stonecroft said in a stern voice. ‘You may go upstairs and change into dry clothing. I will speak with you later.’
With one more glance at Lucien, she did what Lord Stonecroft ordered
.
Lucien followed the man into a library right off the hall. The books on the shelves looked as if they’d not been removed in a decade and the chairs and sofa were arranged in perfect symmetry. Only one chair looked inviting, a large leather chair that sat behind a desk embellished with gilt.
Stonecroft turned and faced him. ‘What are your intentions towards Lady Rebecca?’
At least the man was forthright. ‘Intentions? As from the beginning, to see her safe and well.’
Stonecroft walked to a cabinet and took out a decanter and two glasses. He poured brown liquid into both and handed one to Lucien.
Stonecroft took a sip of his before speaking again. ‘You being so frequently in her company causes talk. That whole shipwreck story just adds fuel to the flame. It was bad enough you were written of in the newspapers.’
‘The shipwreck happened,’ Lucien said. ‘Our rescue was news.’
‘Having one’s name in the newspaper makes people talk.’ Stonecroft grimaced. ‘I find it distasteful.’
Lucien’s spine stiffened. ‘You, sir, are more concerned with how people talk than the traumas Lady Rebecca endured. Even now she suffers from her loss of memory. It affects her greatly.’
Stonecroft sneered. ‘You talk like a lover, Roper. I took you at your word that nothing improper occurred between you and my fiancée—’
Lucien raised his voice. ‘Heed me, Stonecroft. Lady Rebecca needs consideration. That is more important than newspapers and gossip.’
Stonecroft lifted his chin like a petulant child. ‘Do take note of who you are speaking to, Roper.’
‘I know precisely who I am speaking to,’ Lucien shot back.
Stonecroft sputtered. ‘You are disrespectful, sir!’
‘Show some respect for Lady Rebecca,’ Lucien countered.
Stonecroft’s face turned haughty. ‘Your association makes people speculate about impropriety over dinner and cards. Still, I am willing to marry her, but I dislike scandal above all things. I demand you honour my wishes in this matter.’
Lucien’s voice rose again. ‘You demand?’
‘Yes. I demand you stay away,’ the man said. ‘Leave Bath. You cause me nothing but trouble here.’
Stonecroft was still missing the point.
‘What of this stranger stalking Lady Rebecca?’ Lucien asked. ‘What will you do to protect her?’
Stonecroft shook his shoulders. ‘I will marry her. When she is my wife no man will dare trifle with her.’
That was a ridiculous statement.
Lucien set down his glass, untouched, next to Stonecroft’s. ‘I find your lack of concern for the lady who is to be your wife reprehensible, sir. You care nothing for the danger that may lurk out there for her. Or for the ordeal she has endured. Or for her loss of memory.’
Stonecroft’s face turned red. ‘You dare to lecture me?’
Lucien countered, ‘I merely state what should be obvious to anyone who has a regard for her.’
Stonecroft fumed. ‘I believe I know what is best for her and for the children I will beget with her.’
Lucien directed a steely glance at the man. ‘If Lady Rebecca needs my assistance, I will always come to her aid. If I see her at an entertainment or on the street, I will greet her and speak with her. I will also decide when I leave Bath and it will never be because you commanded me to leave.’
He turned away from the man and walked out the door.
* * *
Claire had delayed going upstairs, wanting to know what Lord Stonecroft had said to Lucien.
As she waited on the first floor, looking down on the hall, Miss Attwood came down from the floor above.
‘Lady Rebecca, what on earth has been happening this morning? First I am told you and your maid go out, then you come back without her—and in the company of Captain Roper—then you leave again, alone this time and again return with the Captain. What is all this?’
She had half a mind to tell Miss Attwood everything. About how her brother was pressuring her to have the banns read before she was ready. How he was discounting the difficulty she experienced over the loss of her memory. How unconcerned he was about the stranger who’d approached them.
‘I desired a walk after breakfast and Ella went with me,’ she said instead. ‘We noticed that the stranger who bothered us yesterday was following us and we fled to Sir Richard’s house. Captain Roper was the only one at home. He walked me back.’
‘And your maid?’ Miss Attwood asked.
‘She and Captain Roper’s valet went in search of the stranger.’
She frowned. ‘The other servants tell me that maid of yours is always running off to Sir Richard’s. Did you know there was some carnal attachment between her and that valet? You’d best be wary. That girl will be increasing in no time and, I tell you, Stonecroft will not tolerate a servant in his household with low morals.’
Now they were casting aspersions on Ella?
‘Miss Attwood, Ella is a fine young woman.’
‘I believe at my age I may know more about servants and what can happen than you. I am simply warning you. If you want her to stay as your lady’s maid, you ought to sever these goings on right now. Nip them in the bud.’ She made a gesture with her fingers as if she were doing that very thing.
On the contrary, Claire thought. She should encourage Ella to go after as much happiness as she could, because in a moment everything could be washed away.
Claire climbed one step of the stairs leading to the second floor. ‘If you will excuse me, I must change out of these wet clothes.’
She fled to her bedchamber and was surprised to find Ella there.
‘Oh, m’lady.’ Ella removed her hat and eyed Claire’s wet clothes. ‘I just came in. Where were you?’
‘Captain Roper and I got caught in the rain.’
Ella seemed to accept that explanation.
What was Claire to do about Ella? She could not take her along to Bristol. Claire would be lucky to find a way to support herself; she certainly did not want to spoil Ella’s chances of good employment. And she did not want to separate Ella from Cullen. At least one of them should be happy. She would leave an excellent reference for her and trust that Lucien would help her find a position.
She pulled the hat off her head. ‘You can help me change into dry clothes.’
‘Of course, m’lady.’ She took the shawl and draped it over a chair and came back to undo Claire’s laces. ‘Cullen and I almost caught up to that strange man, m’lady.’
‘You did?’ Her heart pounded faster.
‘We saw him standing on the field in front of these houses. Cullen ran after him and almost caught up to him, but he disappeared into the shrubbery.’
The stranger must know where she lived. Was he watching the house at this very moment? She shivered at the thought.
She was trapped in this house with Lord Stonecroft and Miss Attwood, who both considered her a mere means to an end—the means by which Stonecroft’s heir would be born. Neither cared much for her beyond that and beyond how she appeared to their society.
Well, if she could endure a day and night on a raft at sea, three weeks on a fishing boat and the loss of all her possessions—and her memory—she could endure three more days with these people.
Because she was determined to make her escape before Lord Stonecroft had the banns read.
* * *
Lucien spent the rest of the morning and half the afternoon asking at inns in Bath to discover the identity of man who’d accosted Lady Rebecca. The only possibility he’d found so far was the White Hart. No one remembered the red-haired man, but the inn was large enough that the stranger could be staying there without anyone’s notice.
He visited the West Gate Inn last.
The innkeeper remembered him. ‘Captain Roper, a letter just arrived for y
ou from London. You save me sending a man to bring it to you. Wait a moment.’
The man disappeared into another room and returned with the envelope.
‘Thank you.’ It was from the Admiralty, but Lucien had to put it in a pocket. ‘I am searching for a man,’ he said and described the stranger.
The innkeeper said, ‘I do not recall such a man, but ask the hostlers and in the public room. Someone else might have seen him.’
While Lucien queried every inn worker he could find—to no avail—the letter burned in his pocket. He sat at a table in the public room, a tankard of ale in front of him when he finally opened it and read.
Dear Captain Roper,
The Admiralty is delighted to hear of your survival and rescue and we are eager to have the hero of the Mediterranean return to service.
Most ship assignments were of necessity made in your absence due to important action in Algiers. There is one more opportunity.
The HMS Gaius is ready to sail to the Baltic Sea, but its Captain must be on board by September the tenth. If you can reach our offices by September eighth and be ready to sail by September tenth, the ship is yours.
Yours respectfully,
Melville
First Lord of the Admiralty
Lucien folded the letter and put it back in his pocket.
September the eighth. Two days away.
If he could get passage on the mail coach, he might reach London in a day. There was time. He could do it.
If he left the next day.
Lucien walked slowly back to the Circus. The weather had turned to drizzle, but he did not heed it.
If he left for London tomorrow, it would be without making certain that red-haired stranger did not endanger Lady Rebecca and without taking her to Bristol.
He’d be abandoning her in a time of need, the way his parents had abandoned him.
But it might be his only chance to get a ship.
He reached Number Fifteen in the Circus. Sir Richard was at home.
Sir Richard encountered him on the stairs. ‘Good God, Roper! You’ve been caught in the rain, have you not? You’ll catch your death.’
