The Louise Allen Collection: The Viscount's Betrothal / The Society Catch. Louise Allen
getting up to assist her, slipping on the step and falling heavily against Joanna, and the thin young man leaping up to help everyone, it proved a somewhat chaotic halt. However, they were soon at the Crown and Anchor and the Reverend Thoroughgood helped her down with her valise.
‘Now, I shall go and collect my gig,’ he said chattily, ‘and be off home to Sister. You just need to go through that door there and you’ll find our good hostess and a nice parlour and she’ll tell you when the Lynn coach comes in. Now, you do have enough money, do you not, my dear young lady?’
‘Oh, yes, thank you,’ Joanna replied, confidently. Then, ‘My purse! It has gone!’
‘Great heavens!’ the clergyman exclaimed. ‘That young man must have been a cutpurse! Mrs Wilkins! Mrs Wilkins!’
The landlady came hurrying out, wiping her hands on her apron. She smiled at the sight of Hebe’s companion. ‘There you are again, Reverend. Your gig is all ready for you. But, sir—’ she broke off at the sight of their agitation ‘—what’s about?’
‘My money has been stolen,’ Joanna lamented. ‘This gentleman thinks it was a cutpurse on the stage.’
‘Well now, miss,’ the landlady said sympathetically, ‘that’s a dreadful thing. Why, there is no stopping the impudent rascals. That’s the third time we’ve seen that happen, is it not, Reverend?’ She patted Joanna’s arm. ‘We had better be telling the magistrate, miss.’
‘But that won’t get my purse back,’ Joanna stammered. ‘What am I going to do? I have to get to Wisbech.’
There was a silence, then the clergyman said, ‘Normally I would not suggest it, of course, but as I have an open gig, and it is still broad daylight, would you consider riding with me to my home where my sister awaits me? You can spend the night most securely under her protection and then in the morning we can consider what is best. To write to your friends in Wisbech, perhaps? Or I may have a neighbour who is driving that way.’
‘There now, that is a good idea,’ the landlady said approvingly.
Joanna bit her lip. It did seem the best of the alternatives, for the clergyman appeared well known and trusted at the inn and he obviously kept his gig there frequently. A clergyman’s sister sounded a most respectable chaperon…
And there was the benefit of it taking her off the main road in case of pursuit. She made up her mind. ‘Thank you, sir,’ she said decisively. ‘If Miss Thoroughgood would not find it an imposition, I would be most grateful.’
The gig was well kept and pulled by a neat black pony and Joanna felt happier as they progressed at a brisk trot through the lanes. The loss of her money was serious, but at least she was not too many miles from Georgy, who was not only the possessor of a vastly generous allowance but was indulged by her husband as to the spending of it. As soon as she knew of Joanna’s predicament, she was sure to send both funds and her carriage at once.
The Reverend Thoroughgood did not seem anxious to ask personal questions or to make encroaching observations, so Joanna was emboldened to introduce herself. ‘I should tell you a little of my circumstances, sir, for I am sure Miss Thoroughgood will not wish to take a total stranger into her home. My name is J…Jane Wilson and I am a governess on my way to my new employer in Wisbech, Lady Brandon.’
It felt shocking to be lying to a man of the cloth, but he would hardly assist her if he knew the truth.
‘We must see you on your way as soon as possible, Miss Wilson,’ the reverend said, turning down another lane. Joanna was becoming a little confused. The lanes must be more than usually meandering hereabouts, she decided, for it seemed they must be driving in a circle. ‘No doubt but that Lady Brandon will be anxious for you to begin to teach her children, and equally your friends and family will be concerned to hear of your safe arrival.’
Joanna bit her lip. It would look odd indeed if the only letter she sent during her enforced stay with the Thoroughgoods was to Lady Brandon. ‘I do not have any family,’ she said, trying to sound brave but lonely. ‘And no close friends. A governess’s life is a solitary one, I am afraid.’
‘I am sorry to hear that,’ the Reverend Thoroughgood said solemnly. ‘You must turn for consolation to the thought of the good you are doing and the Christian learning you are bringing to young and tender minds.’
‘Oh, yes, quite.’ Joanna felt that any further discussion of this would be dangerous. She must recall all she could of her own governesses before venturing into conversation on their lives and duties. ‘Are we near your parish yet, sir?’
‘I do not have a parish: I have always been a scholar rather than a pastor, although I have many friends in London to whom I minister and attempt to bring spiritual light and succour by correspondence and the writing of tracts.’
‘Indeed.’ Joanna racked her brains; this was far more difficult than making conversation with a duchess. ‘That must be very…satisfying.’
‘Indeed it is, my dear Miss Wilson. I feel I myself gain much profit by my efforts in the capital. Now, here we are.’
The gig turned into the drive of a modest yellow brick house set within a somewhat overgrown and dull garden of lawn and laurels. It looked not so much dilapidated as unloved and uncared for and Joanna shivered despite the warm afternoon. A clergyman in modest circumstances could not afford to spend much on external appearances, she chided herself. It was most ungrateful to be critical after he had offered to help her in her difficulties.
No groom came round at the sound of the gig and the Reverend Thoroughgood simply dropped the reins as he helped Joanna down. The pony stood patiently, apparently not inclined to wander off, and the front door opened.
‘Lucille, my dear!’ The Reverend Thoroughgood took Joanna’s arm with one hand and her valise with the other and urged her towards the door. ‘I have a young lady in distress who has been cast adrift upon the highway by the actions of some pickpocket. She is on her way to her new employer and has no friends or family to turn to.’
The woman who stood on the step, one long white hand raised to hold open the door, surprised Joanna. She was tall, dressed with sombre elegance in a dark gown of excellent cut and, although at least forty-five, retained striking good looks. In Joanna’s experience ladies of that age were matrons and dressed and appeared exactly that. This lady had a faintly dangerous and independent air about her.
She looked Joanna up and down, a faint smile on her well-cut lips, then raised an eyebrow at her brother, who hastened to complete the introductions. ‘Lucille, my dear, this is Miss Wilson. Miss Wilson, my sister, Miss Thoroughgood.’
Joanna bobbed a curtsy. ‘I must apologise, ma’am, for this intrusion. The Reverend Thoroughgood has been most kind to me in my predicament and has offered to allow me to stay for a few days until my letter reaches my new employer and she is able to send a carriage for me.’
‘Of course. We are delighted you are here, Miss Wilson. Would you like to come upstairs to your room?’ Her voice was cool, not unpleasant, but Joanna sensed a strange current of amusement underlying her words. It made her uneasy, which was ridiculous. She was tired, that was all. Tired, upset by the theft and still not entirely recovered from her stomach upset.
‘Thank you, ma’am.’ She followed her hostess into a dark hall, up the stairs and into a room. Miss Thoroughgood stood aside as she entered and Joanna walked forward a few steps before turning to see both brother and sister standing in the doorway watching her. ‘I…’ Her voice died away as she took in their cool, assessing expressions and realised that the room she was in was virtually bare except for a bed and a washstand. The narrow window was barred with iron.
‘I must congratulate you, Thaddeus,’ Miss Thoroughgood said, eyeing Joanna up and down in much the same way as she might have assessed the points of a horse. ‘This one will do excellently.