Talk of the Ton. Mary Nichols
on her head.
‘Come on, I haven’t got time to argue.’ And with that he bundled her into the coach and climbed in behind her. ‘Back to town, Jerry, as fast as you like,’ he commanded his coachman.
Chapter Two
‘What are you going to do with me?’ she asked, trying to push her unruly hair under the hat again as the carriage moved off. It was a luxurious vehicle, its seats padded in red velvet. The man who occupied the opposite seat was fashionably dressed in a well-cut tail coat of green kerseymere and coffee-coloured pantaloons tucked into polished Hessians. His cravat was tied in a simple knot. He was handsome too, fair haired and bronzed from living in a climate warmer than that of England. It seemed to emphasise the blueness of his eyes, which were looking at her with something akin to amusement. She wondered how old he was; nothing like as old as her Uncle James, who must be forty, or as young as Toby, who was only a year older than she was. Twenty-seven or eight perhaps.
‘Oh, do not fret, I have no designs on your person,’ he said.
‘Then let me go.’
‘That, I think, would be considered unchivalrous.’
‘No more unchivalrous than holding a lady against her wishes.’
‘If the lady has no idea of the danger she is in, then a gentleman has no choice.’ He laughed suddenly. ‘Whatever made you think you could pass yourself off as a boy? A more feminine figure I have yet to meet.’ His eyes roamed appreciatively over her coat and breeches as he spoke. The only slightly masculine thing about her was her cut-down fingernails and the brownish stain along the cuticles. He was intrigued by them. ‘It is a good thing I intervened when I did.’
She remembered the sailors and shuddered. On the other hand, just because this man was well dressed, did it mean he was to be trusted? ‘I have already thanked you for that. If you really are a gentleman, then you would convey me to the nearest coaching inn where I might take a stage back home.’
‘Can’t do that, I am afraid.’ The last thing he wanted was to act the unwilling escort to a spoiled young miss not long out of the schoolroom. He liked his women mature and experienced, so that they both knew where they stood. They could enjoy each other without the complication of broken hearts and dreams of weddings. It was how he had survived since leaving England seven years before. Silently he cursed young Kendall for landing him with this one. He had been at the wrong place at the wrong time. Half an hour’s difference and he would have come and gone, or she would have gone on board and spoken to Kendall herself. The young man would have had to leave the ship to look after her. Now here he was acting the knight errant and the young man she had pursued was sailing away.
‘I beg you to look after her,’ he had said. ‘Take her to her uncle, the Duke of Belfont, and try to smooth her way, for I fear his Grace will be very angry.’ An irresponsible stripling, a self-willed young madam and an angry Duke—what had he done to deserve being saddled with their problems?
He turned a little in his seat so that he could see her properly. She had taken off that monstrous hat and was trying unsuccessfully to put her hair up with combs. It was beautiful hair, thick and dark and gleaming with good health. Her eyes, beneath winged brows, were a deep amber and her mouth was full and generous with a chin that was jutting proudly. Considering her dishevelled state and the strange garb she wore, that was quite a feat.
‘Shall we start again?’ he queried. He had a lop-sided kind of smile, she noticed, which made her want to smile back, but she was determined not to do so. It would make him think she approved of his high-handed abduction of her. ‘Let me introduce myself. My name is Andrew Melhurst. I have lately returned to England after some years abroad.’
Oh, so he was a nabob, a nobody grown rich in the subcontinent and come home to flaunt his wealth. The chests and boxes she had seen being loaded on to the wagon, the sumptuous coach and the expensive diamond that glittered in his cravat, bore that out. ‘Mr Kendall told you my name, but what else did he tell you?’
‘Very little, Miss Harley, there was no time. But he did make it clear he had not asked you to come and he would deem it a favour if I would see you safely home.’
‘You think I ran away to go with him, don’t you?’
‘It matters little what I think. Perhaps you should be more concerned by what the rest of the world thinks. If this little escapade becomes known, you would find your reputation in tatters. Mine too, I fear.’
‘Oh.’ She knew she had made a dreadful mess of everything. What had made her think her disguise was good enough to deceive? Oh, Toby was always laughing and saying she was more boy than girl and her mother had said how startled she had been when she first saw her in her father’s breeches, but that was not enough to pass muster with the man who sat opposite her, regarding her with his bright intelligent eyes. And not only him, the passengers in the coach from Sudbury had looked at her strangely and she was sure those rough sailors had realised she was not a boy. She was lucky to have come this far without being molested and the prospect of returning home in the same way was more than a little frightening. The fact that this stranger had seen fit to point it out to her did not help. ‘It is your own fault, you did not need to intervene at all.’
‘You know, you are right, I wonder why I did.’
‘Because Toby asked you to, I suppose.’
‘There is that, but I am not accustomed to doing the bidding of strangers, so it must be that I am a gentleman and gentlemen do not leave ladies in dangerous predicaments when it is their power to help. Now, what about my suggestion that we start again in a more civilised fashion? I know your name, I know you are the niece of the Duke of Belfont, but nothing more.’ He smiled suddenly and, in spite of herself, she found herself breathing a sigh of relief and smiling back. ‘Suppose you tell me why you set out on this adventure. I cannot believe you meant to worry your family to death.’
‘No, I did not. And I was not running away or trying to elope or anything foolish like that. I simply wanted to say goodbye to Toby, to find out—’ She stopped suddenly, knowing her reasons would sound foolish.
‘To find out what?’
‘Oh, it is too complicated…’
‘We have plenty of time. I am not letting you out of this coach until we reach Belfont House.’
‘Oh, you are never taking me to Uncle James, he will be furious.’
‘With good cause, I imagine. But where else should I take you? Is that not your home?’
‘No. I live with my mother and sister just outside Sudbury.’
‘Sudbury! How did you get from there to here?’
‘By stagecoach and cab, how else?’
She was not lacking in courage, he decided. ‘I think you had better tell me everything from the beginning.’
She sighed. ‘I suppose I had or you will dump me on his Grace’s doorstep and leave me to his wrath.’
He did not bother to tell her he would not ‘dump’ her anywhere, but as for taking her as far as Sudbury, he hadn’t bargained on doing that, even though it was not far out of his way. ‘Go on,’ he said quietly.
So she told him everything: her love of botany, instilled in her by Joshua, and Toby who had been her friend and playmate since childhood, her longing to go plant hunting, to have adventures, though after today she was not so sure she was as intrepid as she had thought she was. And the unfeeling way that Toby had been sent away, simply because her uncle wanted to stop her dreaming and turn her into a conventional débutante.
He smiled. ‘I do not think you will ever be that,’ he said, doing his best not to laugh. He looked at her, wondering if she was too proud to laugh at herself, and was relieved when her efforts to remain stern failed and a broad smile creased her face and showed him perfect white teeth. In a moment they were both laughing aloud.
‘It