Love's Tangle (23 page)

“I appreciate your concern, Roland, but I require no help.”

“I am pleased to hear it.”

By now she was scarlet with embarrassment and longed for him to go. She sipped her tea and a wave of nausea surged through her. She knew he was watching her closely and attempted a weak smile. It would not do to broadcast her indisposition. He would certainly tell Lady Frant and she feared what his mother would make of it—a possible heir was the last thing Celia would want. But perhaps if she knew the truth, that redoubtable woman would help her on her way.

A thought burned through her mind. She would help her on her way…not Celia though, but Roland. He could be just what she needed and while he talked on, her brain was working feverishly.

“Will you be visiting Hurstwood shortly?” He looked startled, his flow of conversation brought to a sharp close.

“I have no definite plans. Why do you ask?”

“A few days ago I received a letter from Bath, from some old friends,” she lied fluently. “I had written telling them of my marriage. In their reply they mention they have an elderly relative living in this district—living near to Hurstwood, in fact. They believe her to have fallen sick and have asked me to visit, if at all possible. I wish very much to oblige them in this.”

“That is most commendable, but I am unsure how I can be of assistance.”

“You have a carriage, Roland, and you have a house close to where I wish to travel. I wondered if you might soon be going there.” She smiled encouragingly at him.

“I would be delighted to escort you, my dear, but does not Allingham boast a coach and coachman? I think we should allow Parsons to do his job, don’t you?”

It was an obvious point and caused her to think rapidly. “Parsons must stay here. He has been commanded by Gabriel to await his master’s instructions which could come at any time or any day.” It was horribly weak but it would have to suffice.

Roland was looking wary but said smoothly enough, “If that is so, I am more than happy to drive you.”

“You are most kind. Shall we say this afternoon? I can be ready shortly after midday.”

The startled expression was back and she hurried to douse any suspicions he might have. “My friends’ aunt is very frail and could leave the world at any moment. I would not like to think I arrived too late.”

Roland squared his shoulders. “Naturally you would not. You may be sure I will return with the carriage before two hours have passed.”

“That is most kind,” she said again, as warmly as she could manage, and rose from her chair. She hoped he would take the hint and leave, for nausea was again threatening and she needed to be alone. She had got what she wanted—a departure from Allingham that would be unexceptional. Not an eyebrow would be raised at the sight of her driving through the gates with Roland at her side.

****

She was packed within the hour but remained out of sight in her sitting room. It was fortunate Alice had been granted leave that day to visit her mother in the next village and by the time she returned, Elinor hoped to be miles from Allingham. But the afternoon wore on and Roland Frant did not appear. She became increasingly tense, hovering anxiously by the window, listening intently for the sound of carriage wheels. Was he about to let her down? By the time the clock struck four, she had taken off her bonnet and consigned her wonderful plan to the flames. But then a jingle of distant harness. Flying back to the window, she saw at last Roland’s gig making its way to the front entrance. She bounded down the stairs, portmanteau in hand, and arrived breathless at the steps of the carriage almost before it had come to a halt.

Roland’s eyes took in the drab grey of her dress and the large bag she carried. His forehead puckered questioningly.

“A few herbal remedies for the invalid,” she said smoothly. “Mrs. Lucas’s own recipes.” He settled the portmanteau between them and indicated her gown. “And are you dressed for nursing?”

“The gown will be more useful than silks and satins, I’m sure, but my real wish is not to intimidate the old lady by appearing too splendidly dressed.”

There was a pause while he digested this and she took advantage of his silence to deflect his questioning. “I had thought you would be with me earlier, Roland.”

“I must apologize for keeping you waiting but Sultan threw a shoe and the smith was a long time coming.”

“I am most grateful you arrived at all.” It would be wise to appease him, she thought. “But do let us make haste. It will be dusk in a few hours and though I have my friends’ directions, I am not entirely sure where the cottage lies.”

He nodded agreement and once out of the gates, whipped his horse to a spirited pace. The miles disappeared rapidly beneath the carriage wheels, leaving Elinor little time to grieve for what she was leaving behind but reminding her instead how urgent was her present plight. She must search for lodgings in the near dark and in a countryside she did not know. They had been travelling for well over an hour when she saw they were approaching a crossroads, one artery of which was not much more than a lane. She could see a chimney smoking at some distance and made a rapid decision.

“This is it, Roland. Please pull up.”

“Where is it?” He was looking bewildered and she could hardly blame him. They had come to a halt in the middle of nowhere.

“The crossroads,” she extemporized. “The directions mentioned the crossroads.” Thank goodness they had passed no others on the journey. “And a cottage sitting a short way along one of its lanes. There it is, you see,” and she pointed to the chimney smoking in the distance.

Her companion swiveled his head and peered down the lane. “You think this is the place?”

“I am sure of it.” She gathered up her bag. “Thank you so much, Roland, for your assistance. You have been kindness itself.”

“You are surely not getting down here? I will drive you to the house.”

“There is no need. I can easily walk the short distance and you must be getting back to Allingham or it will be pitch black before you arrive and that will make for a dangerous journey.”

He put out his arm to restrain her. “There is a full moon tonight, Elinor, and I can return at leisure. But something feels wrong here—tell me.”

She did not reply and when he spoke again, his voice was incredulous. “Are you running away?”

She felt her shoulders collapse, as though she were a toy devoid of its stuffing.

“You cannot be running away from Allingham!”

“I have to get away—for a while,” she murmured.

“So there is no aunt, no invalid?”

“I am most sorry for the deception, Roland. But you need have no further involvement. Allow me to get down from the carriage and then forget that you ever saw me today.”

“But where will you go?”

“I will seek a lodging—perhaps in that very cottage.” She tried a brave smile which did not quite come off. “There is always someone willing to rent a room.”

“At this time of night?”

“I admit I would have wished to have searched in daylight but it is of no matter.”

“You cannot wander around in the countryside in the dark,” he protested. “You are the Duchess of Allingham!”

“No longer. My life at Allingham is finished.”

He looked astounded but there was a small suspicion of a simper at the corners of his mouth. “Then allow me to drive you to Hurstwood. It is a mere thirty minutes away and you will have a comfortable bed for the night.”

Her expression must have conveyed her alarm at the prospect for he said in his most soothing voice, “I will stay only to give instructions to my housekeeper but you may remain at the house as long as you wish. I will not be returning for some days.”

“It will be for tonight alone,” she promised. “I will be gone first thing in the morning. I cannot say where but that is all to the good. If you have no knowledge, you cannot be held responsible for my disappearance.”

His lips curved into an outright smile. “I do not approve your actions, Elinor, but as you appear determined, I can only wish you well. For now I had better drive you to Hurstwood.”

****

“I cannot see why you should offer Hurstwood to that interloper,” Lady Frant protested while her son irritably divested himself of driving gloves. He had been avid to recount the day’s happenings but his mother was proving a disappointing audience.

“If Gabriel has deliberately stranded her at Allingham, it is for good reason,” Celia went on, “and if he has not and returns shortly, you would have been well advised to have kept your distance.”

Roland looked across the table at his mother. “I
have
kept my distance,” he said impatiently. “Nobody saw us today and she intends to leave Hurstwood on the morrow.”

“I do not like it. If she should continue to stay at your house, we will be implicated in her flight.”

“She will not stay, I am sure. Elinor is a resourceful young woman and determined to leave Sussex. I thought, Mama, that at one time you were equally determined she should.”

“One time? You know very well that is still the case.”

“I thought I did, but you seem lately to have given up on the project—it has been left entirely to me. It was my initiative to relate the tale of Elinor’s parentage.”

“And what point was there in that? It has made not a jot of difference.”

“On the contrary, I believe it has made all the difference. Else why has she taken such a drastic step in leaving Allingham?”

“Only to be driven to Hurstwood,” his mother muttered.

“But don’t you see, by leaving the Hall the duchess is saying the marriage is over. Gabriel will be furious and wash his hands of her completely.”

“Do not give her that title. The very thought makes me shudder. And how can you know he will react so?”

“He will consider it his prerogative to determine whether or not the marriage fails and will be very angry she has taken the matter into her own hands.”

His mother continued to look skeptical while he rose from his chair and strode around the room, his hands deep in his pockets, his brow furrowed with thought.

“I have my suspicions, Mama, and if they are true, it is imperative Elinor Milford leave Allingham as soon as possible.”

For the first time Celia Frant looked at him with interest.

“I believe her to be with child.”

His announcement had all the effect he could wish. His mother gasped aloud. “How can you be sure?”

“Naturally I cannot be entirely sure but she is pale and wan and she is not eating. I thought she would be sick when I took tea with her.”

“If she is indeed carrying Gabriel’s child, that would be a blow from which we could not recover. But if she were to disappear, to vanish from his world before he got wind of the fact…”

“Perhaps you will concede now that I have acted prudently.”

His mother nodded. “It would seem so. But let us consider for a moment the difficulties that may yet wreck your plan.” She pursed her lips and began to tap her hand on the table, each tap a harbinger of misfortune. “You say she is determined to leave Hurstwood tomorrow. But what if she doesn’t? The house is a comfortable refuge—what if she is tempted to stay?”

“Then I will go to her with a false tale that Gabriel knows of the baby, that he is very angry and accuses her of stealing the heir to Allingham. I shall paint as black a picture as possible to the—to Elinor—then suggest she leave at once to avoid the duke finding her and punishing her for her disloyalty.”

His mother looked at him in grudging admiration. “I would not have thought you could be so ruthless, Roland, and after seeming to befriend the girl.”

“It is for the good of Allingham,” he said solemnly. “And I do not believe Elinor will suffer. I imagine the duke has provided financially.”

His mother was still thinking. “Is it possible Gabriel already knows of the baby?”

“I doubt it. I cannot think he would have left her alone to travel to London.”

“No, you are right. But that does not mean he will not find out and insist his wife return to Allingham for her confinement. It is his legal right. He might allow her to disappear after the event but he will then be in possession of an heir.”

“It could be a daughter,” he reminded her. “But in any case, he will not find out. Who is to tell him? You? Me? She is not so far gone that the servants will have noticed. And I am certain that within the next few days she will leave Sussex, and when she does, she will leave with her secret intact.”

“And once our little upstart has disappeared, there will be no one left to keep Gabriel in check,” Celia mused. “He has been noticeably abstemious since the night I brought her to the Dower House and according to the bailiff, has taken the running of the estate into his own hands. She has had a beneficial influence and who knows, he might actually have a
tendre
for her and her defection could hit him hard. Without her, he will no doubt return to his old ways.”

Roland nodded enthusiastically and his mother warmed to her theme. “People will say he has driven his bride away. He will lose the goodwill of his neighbors and lose any incentive to regularize his life. That can only hasten his degeneration.”

“Exactly.” Roland breathed an almost ecstatic sigh. “Have I not been clever, Mama?” He could have been a small child awaiting his reward in bonbons.

“You have, my dear,” Celia finally conceded. “I am already looking forward to the day when I see you rightly installed as the Duke of Allingham.”

Chapter Thirteen

Gabriel had been in London for less than an hour before he knew he had made a terrible mistake. Had he really thought that in journeying sixty miles he could escape his feelings? How very stupid! He had thought to save himself from pain but coming to London had not signified salvation. Elinor had been with him every step of the journey and was with him still in every breath he took. She had been with him from the moment he’d first seen her mounting the steps of the dairy, carefully managing her laden tray. He had been intrigued, fascinated, by this slender, too tall girl with a too wide mouth, just made to be kissed. But something more had set her apart from any woman he had met, something indefinable. And months on, he knew what that was—he’d fallen in love. Incredibly, amazingly, he’d fallen headlong in love even as he lounged casually against the creamery walls and watched her every move. During these last solitary months at Allingham he had missed her dreadfully and now they were miles apart, every minute was cutting him to ribbons.