Two of a Kind

by Sasha Cottman

  Leah sat; head bowed. “You are not who I thought you were, James. I am beginning to think I may have misjudged you.”

  Her words added another spark to the burning flame he already carried for her. He had long suspected she wasn’t the pliable little miss Guy thought he was marrying. He’d seen clear evidence she was a young woman with a spine. There were deeper more intricate layers when it came to Leah. She was much like Caroline in that they both had substance about them, but Leah had a certain warmth that Caroline did not. Her concern for him and his future held a kindness which went straight to James’s heart.

  He had never met anyone like Leah before, and he doubted he would ever find another woman who made him feel the way she did.

  “I think we may have both misjudged one another in the past. I, for one, am glad of the opportunity for us to get to know each other a little better. Who knows where that might lead?” he replied.

  She patted his arm. “Yes, I think you are right in it being a time for the both of us to reevaluate our opinions. At least we are starting out as friends. Who knows what will happen between here and Cornwall?”

  What did happen was the arrival of a tempest which blew in from the North Atlantic and across the English coast. The gods of fair skies had abandoned the travelers. By day’s end, James and Leah had wasted hours sheltering from the fierce rain and winds of an early winter storm. Leah spent her time huddled under her cloak. Their horse did not take kindly to the weather either, which meant James had to carefully handle him the whole way. It was a long and arduous day on the road.

  By the time they reached the small village of Mere, it was almost night. The plan of them staying somewhere more out of the way was quickly set aside. James, the horse, and Leah were all exhausted and wet.

  When the white Tudor period George Inn appeared in sight, James’s shoulders sagged with relief. “I don’t know about you, but I need a hot bath and a comfortable bed. We shall just have to hope that if anyone is following us that the weather has also impeded their progress.”

  “Agreed. I need to get out of these wet clothes and eat a hot supper. I hope they do a stew. The one last night in Salisbury was absolutely delicious,” replied Leah.

  “And buttered bread,” he added.

  They both sighed with longing. There was nothing better than buttered bread dipped into a hearty stew, all washed down with a crisp ale or cider.

  When the carriage drew to a halt in the yard, James handed the reins over to a stable boy and jumped down. Leah held out her hands to him and let him catch her as she dropped to the ground.

  The innkeeper of the George Inn was a tall, gangly man with a wisp of a beard. He gave James and Leah a suspicious once-over as they stepped inside. His gaze dropped to Leah’s hand and then to James.

  An unmarried couple arriving on an innkeeper’s doorstep in the middle of the night might not be the sort of custom that was welcomed in this neck of the woods. The look was not lost on James.

  “My wife and I would like a room for the night. Your lad has already taken our carriage and horse around into the stables,” said James.

  Leah once again proved herself to be in possession of a sharp mind. Instead of countering James’s lie, she simply slipped her hand in his and smiled sweetly at the innkeeper.

  The aroma of roasted pork drifted in from the nearby kitchen. “Are we still able to procure some supper? That smells like the best roast in the county, doesn’t it, darling?” she said. James nodded to her.

  The innkeeper’s demeanor changed. The question of whether his newly arrived guests were married or not, was quickly set aside as the man showed his obvious delight at hearing Leah’s words of praise.

  “My wife does do an excellent bit of roast pork and crackling, if I do say so myself. If you fine people would like to get yourselves set in your room upstairs, I shall see to getting you some food. I take it you would like roast potatoes and buttered bread with your supper.”

  James and Leah looked at one another.

  “Yes, please.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Are you sure I cannot tempt you with the last piece of roasted potato?”

  Leah waved her hand at James. She was so full, from all the wonderful food that she half expected to roll off the bed as soon as she lay down. “Thank you, James, but I am struggling to breathe as it is. I do love a good roast.”

  The room at the George was fortunately larger than the one they had stayed in at Salisbury, but that didn’t take much. James was able to open his travel trunk properly and while the innkeeper was unable to provide a full bath, a bowl of hot water allowed him to shave and clean up.

  Leah was happy to also avail herself of clean water and a strip wash while James was downstairs seeing to their horse and making preparations for their onward journey in the morning. Unlike James, however, she didn’t have a full bag of possessions from which she could draw. A simple linen nightgown and three plain day gowns were the sum total of her wardrobe. All her beautiful gowns, coats, and shoes remained in London, still packed and ready for the move to what would have been her new home with Guy. What her mother would now do with all the possessions Leah had left behind, she dreaded to think.

  I don’t expect I shall see any of my nice things ever again.

  The new gowns were likely to not fit her by the time she returned to London anyway. At the rate James was feeding her, she would soon be back to her old size. Her day gowns currently hung limply from her frame, but a few more days of stews and roasts, and her familiar curves would begin to return. While her cheeks were still sunken, she already felt less haggard than she had in weeks.

  The innkeeper’s wife had brought them up their supper after they had both washed away the dust and grime of the past two days of travel. Leah had changed into one of her clean gowns and was now seated across from James at a table under the window in their room.

  “I was certain I could have eaten the whole pig when my nose first caught the delicious smell of the roast, but like you, I shall have to concede defeat. I blame the three roast potatoes for my downfall,” replied James.

  “You ate four potatoes,” she said, before teasing him with a smile.

  For the first time since she had left London, Leah felt the tension ease in her shoulders. Her heart was beating at a steady rate. It could have been that her body was too busy trying to digest all that wonderful food to remain in its previous near constant state of fear, but she had found herself beginning to relax long before they reached the inn.

  James may have been Guy’s best friend, but they were quite unlike one another in their nature. Where Guy was all for grand gestures and carefully measured words, it was the little spontaneous touches that gave James his power. A brief brush of his hand here, a kind word spoken there. They all added up to frame the picture of him she was slowly painting in her mind.

  She watched as he finished the last of his ale then slumped back in his chair, hands resting on his full stomach. He looked for all the world like a young version of John Bull. And she imagined that if they kept eating such enormous suppers, he would eventually resemble the famous character.

  Leah put a hand over her mouth and tried to stifle a mischievous laugh.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You need a waistcoat if you are going to be John Bull,” she chortled.

  His gaze settled on his rounded stomach and he chuckled. “I won’t need to eat for days; and I expect to be asleep within the hour.”

  On the road, they had shared an afternoon of talking about almost everything as they sat side by side up on top of the carriage. The only topic of conversation which Leah did not want to discuss further was James’s aborted trip to Derbyshire. Guilt sat uneasy in her mind over his selfless act.

  Something else sat in the forefront of her mind and this topic was something which could not be avoided. Her grandfather. The question of exactly what they would say to him when they eventually reached Mopus Manor had to be addressed.


  “My grandfather is a good man, a kindly man,” she ventured.

  James’s gaze lifted to meet hers. He nodded. “I was wondering when we would get to the matter of Sir Geoffrey. I expect he will have one or two questions when he finds us on his doorstep at the end of the week.”

  Us. She had been pondering that same word for most of the afternoon. They weren’t an us, or a we; they were travelling companions which made them . . . Leah couldn’t quite think of a suitable word to describe the connection between her and James. It was the bones of a friendship at the moment, but it was changing by the hour.

  What she didn’t want was for whatever they were to be something of a millstone around their necks. James had done more than enough already to assist her; he had made sacrifices which she suspected would cost him dearly.

  James should not be the one standing in front of her grandfather having to explain matters when the time came. She had made the decision to run away, not him. The weight of that choice should rest on her shoulders alone. “I was thinking that perhaps you and I could part before we reach my grandfather’s house,” she said.

  It made sense for her to be arriving alone at Mopus Manor. She would already be a disgrace in the eyes of her family; why should James have to bear part or all of the blame for her actions?

  The frown lines which immediately appeared on his face were accompanied by a loud huff of displeasure, and a loudly snapped, “No.”

  “If you would just listen,” she implored.

  “No. I am not taking you most of the way and then abandoning you at the end. If your father is waiting for you at Mopus Manor and I leave you to face him, then all this will have been for naught,” he replied.

  There was a firmness in his speech that quickly gave her pause. It told her in no uncertain terms that she would not be winning him over with her proposal for them to part. James was determined to see the journey through to its end.

  “I just don’t want you getting the blame for what I have done,” she said.

  He huffed a second time and the frown lines on his face grew deeper. She had secretly wondered what he would look like in full anger, and now had a horrible suspicion she was about to find out.

  He got to his feet, and a chill ran down her spine. She had sat through enough of her father’s tirades to know when someone’s temper was about to explode. Leah held onto the arms of the chair, her fingers going white with the force of her grip. Holding her breath, she braced for impact.

  But it never came.

  Instead of the usual ranting and loud bellowing which her father was so adept at delivering, there was silence. Instead of the hot sting of a slap against her cheek, there was the warmth from the fireplace.

  When she finally lifted her head, she met James’s sad, puzzled gaze.

  “Leah?” he said.

  Her fingers remained locked hard against the chair; the habits of a lifetime not easily changed. She had seen her father approach anger from many different angles. All of them ended in the same way—with her curled up on the floor, pleading for mercy.

  With careful, measured steps, James approached. He held his arms limply by his sides, showing that he posed her no threat. Leah remained unable to move; it was as if she had suddenly been cast in stone.

  Her eyes tracked his movements, her brain registering the contrast between James’s soft unthreatening manner and the hard violence that was the hallmark of her father in one of his full rages.

  James bent down and knelt beside her, placing a hand lightly on top of hers. “I won’t hurt you, Leah. I would never do that. You are safe with me,” he murmured.

  She focused on his voice and believed his words to be true. Still, she remained in her prison of silence, unable to respond.

  James left his hand in place, his thumb softly brushing over the back of Leah’s fingers, gently coaxing her to return to him.

  She eventually managed a brief nod. Feeling came back into her body. His entreaty had succeeded. Her breathing slowly returned to normal as the barriers of her self-defense were lowered. Her mind finally convinced her body that she was safe once more.

  “I didn’t mean to speak so harshly to you,” he said.

  She shook her head. “You didn’t. The reaction is somewhat ingrained, and I have little control over it.”

  She could name the various levels of heat and volume in a voice, from the cool, sweet sound that usually accompanied endearments, right through to the blazing intensity of soul-destroying wrath. She knew them all, some better than others.

  “Deeply embedded, from the way you reacted so quickly. I’m sorry if I frightened you. I am only beginning to understand how things have been for you, Leah. In time, I hope that you will come to trust me enough to tell me more,” he said.

  A little understanding was all she could ever give to James. The rest of her history would remain as it always had—buried deep.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Leah hadn’t said much in words, but her silence spoke volumes. James cursed himself for having thought her troubles had only begun with her forced engagement. Watching her flinch at the slightest raise of volume in his voice gave him all the heartbreaking evidence he needed to understand why she had not stayed in London and faced up to her father.

  One of the few unfortunate things that came from having had a happy and loving upbringing was that he wasn’t fully prepared to deal with situations of family cruelty. The ton was strict in many of its rules, some of which he considered unfair, especially toward women. Rights he took for granted were often not afforded to the fairer sex. But very few families were outright wicked to their children.

  Having a tyrant as a father and living under that yoke day after day all your life was so foreign to him. He honestly didn’t know what he could say to her. Sorry was such a pitifully inadequate word to use in this situation. Would she even wish for him to say it?

  Leah shifted in her chair. Her face brightened. “We were discussing my grandfather and how he is to be approached.”

  She spoke as if the interaction of the past few minutes had never happened. James decided to let it rest in the hope that at some point she would feel able to discuss her family with him.

  And while Leah appeared determined to move on from the deeply uncomfortable exchange, James made his own decision. No matter what happened before or after they reached Cornwall, he would make certain that Leah never had to go back to living under her father’s roof. His family had enough power and influence to protect her, and he would see it done.

  He wondered how much Guy knew of Leah’s family history. Was her former fiancé aware of what Leah had suffered? A chill rippled the hairs on his arm. The notion that perhaps Guy had specifically chosen Leah because she had already been broken by her family sickened James to the core.

  “Then we do as we have already discussed. I shall endeavor to discover who is in residence at your grandfather’s home, then decide on what is to be done,” he said.

  “No. I want a say in this and what is to happen. It is my future we are discussing here, much as you wish to be involved in helping me make decisions about it,” she replied.

  “Well then, may I suggest that I find out what the lay of the land is at Sir Geoffrey’s house, then return to the inn at Mopus Passage and let you know. If your father is not waiting for you, we can then travel together to Mopus Manor. But if your father is . . .”

  “I will go far away. I don’t care where. A boat to France would be a perfectly acceptable option. Anywhere but back to London,” she interjected.

  It was comforting to know Leah had a spine, that her father had not managed to crush her soul completely. Still, they needed a proper back-up plan in case Tobias Shepherd was waiting for his daughter’s arrival.

  “I was going to say, if your father is at Mopus Manor, then I suggest you and I leave for Scotland immediately. My Uncle Ewan is the Duke of Strathmore, and my family can offer you protection. You may stay at Strathmore Castle for as long as you
wish,” he said.

  Scotland would offer Leah at least some protection from English law. Her father couldn’t just march up to the gates of Strathmore Castle and demand that the Duke of Strathmore hand his daughter over. James stopped and thought about it for a moment, worried that his knowledge of cross-border law was not strong enough. The last thing he wished to do was to cause further scandal or outrage to the Radley family. He already had enough explaining to do to his father and uncle as it was.

  If he and Leah did end up making a run for the Scottish border, he would be stopping in Edinburgh on the way and securing the services of a good lawyer. One that could find some ancient law to protect Leah from her family.

  A priest would do the job. If he married her, she would be forever out of her father’s reach. She would no longer be a Shepherd; she would be a Radley. Offer her marriage.

  It was tempting to suggest such a thing, but the time was not right. A forced marriage was exactly what he was helping her to escape. She had the right to choose whom she married. He did not want Leah agreeing to marry him purely out of desperation. Only if and when he was certain that he held her heart would he ask her to be his wife.

  “Scotland sounds nice, and something we should seriously consider if it comes to it,” she replied.

  But. There was a definite but hanging on the end of that sentence. He waited.

  “But there are some other more pressing matters to consider,” she added.

  “Such as?”

  “Such as what we are to do about sleeping arrangements. It is all well and good to be posing as a married couple outside our room, but you cannot sleep in an uncomfortable chair every night. Your back will be a mess of knots by the time this journey is over if you do that, so we need to find a solution that leaves us both satisfied,” she replied.

  He stopped himself just in the nick of time. The thought of offering to share the bed would likely get him a hard slap across the face.