Runaway Miss (22 page)

‘Malvers,’ he said tentatively, ‘do you remember when we were talking after that night at Brooks’s—you know, when Bentwater asked for Sir George’s stepdaughter?’

‘Yes, of course. Why?’

‘You said if we had not agreed to play, the situation would not have occurred. You felt responsible.’

Alex paused in the middle of tying his cravat, wondering what was coming. ‘So?’

‘Am I right in deducing you have tried to do something about her after all?’

‘What do you suppose I have done?’

‘Brought her up here incognito.’ He paused, but when Alex
did not answer but went on tying his cravat, added, ‘I am right, aren’t I?’

‘What gave you that idea?’

‘Miss Draper. She is uncommonly tall, and Lady Emma is also uncommonly tall. And she disappeared at the same time you did.’

‘Is that all the evidence you have?’

‘Yes. Except she has a certain presence, a superior way of carrying herself and speaking that smacks of breeding.’

‘Not much to go on, is it?’

‘I am right, though, am I not?’

‘Supposing you are—and I am not saying for a moment that you are—what do you propose doing about it?’

‘Why, nothing. I admire your nerve, taking her out from under their noses. Most chivalrous thing I ever heard. But I would not like to be in your shoes if Sir George or Bentwater find out.’

‘How will they find out? Are you going to tell them?’

‘Me? Certainly not. You may rely on me to keep my tongue between my teeth.’

Alex grinned. ‘If I thought you would not, I would throw you right back into the lake.’

‘Do you think she is safe up here?’

‘I hope so. At least until after the regatta, then I am going to take her home.’

‘Back to her parents?’

‘No, you ass, to Buregreen. As my wife.’

Jeremy laughed. ‘I thought you said you would not shackle yourself to an unknown filly. Your words, not mine.’

‘She is not unknown now. I have come to know her very well.’

‘Then let me felicitate you.’

‘Time enough for that after the regatta. Do you still want to help with it?’

‘Of course. You do not think an unplanned dip is going to
stop me, do you? I know it is going to be a great success. And I am vastly looking forward to the ball. I have sent home for an evening dress suitable for the occasion.’

Alex laughed as he shrugged himself into his blue super-fine coat and adjusted the cuffs of his shirt. He felt sure Emma’s secret was safe with Maddox. ‘Shall we go down to dinner?’

Preparations went on apace, the boats were finished, the fortress built and painted, the viewing platforms erected, though it would be Charlotte and not Emma who was going to be kidnapped and rescued. Charlotte was full of her role and insisted on countless rehearsals, which Emma could hardly bear to watch. It was her own fault, flaring up like she had; it had changed everything between her and Alex.

They spoke politely to each other and not for a minute did either drop the pretence that she was Miss Fanny Draper, lady’s companion. It was as if they had never had that dreadful confrontation. Emma wondered if he had managed to wipe it from his memory, but she never could. The words ‘marriage of convenience’ were seared into her brain, though neither of them had ever actually uttered them.

She had even come to accept Jeremy Maddox’s presence. He came to dine frequently, and sometimes the doctor and his family or the Pettifers would join them and then there would be laughter and gaiety, though Emma was careful to stay in the background, ignored by everyone except Mrs Summers. Charlotte flirted outrageously with Alex, who seemed to be enjoying it, so that it was all Emma could do not to scream her frustration at him.

The Reverend Mr Griggs sometimes brought his wife and daughter, but James never came. Emma knew he would not forgive Alex for humiliating him. It was when she thought of that episode and the way Alex had defended her, that she wondered if she had been too hasty in turning down his
thoughtless proposal. Could they have made a good marriage on so poor a beginning? It was a question she could not answer and would not be given the opportunity to test because he had not repeated it. And always, always in the back of her mind was that she could not impose on Mrs Summers for ever and sooner or later she would have to go home.

She sometimes wondered what was happening there. How was her mother? She had had only one other letter from Harriet and that was in reply to hers saying she would not be able to return for the wedding. Harriet had written about her wedding, the clothes, the guests and the fact that they were, the very next day, going to travel to Europe for their wedding tour. She said nothing of Sir George or her mother and Emma supposed nothing had changed. And then everything changed.

She was just leaving a haberdashery shop in Ambleside, the day before the regatta was to take place, when she saw a coach pulling up outside the Unicorn. Although a luxurious equipage, it had obviously travelled a long way, being dusty and mud-begrimed, its four horses bone weary, their manes and sides also spattered with mud. She gave it only a cursory glance, but when she saw who was stepping down from it, she was shocked to the core. She stood, wondering which way to run, for run she must, when he turned and saw her. A wide grin spread across his features and he gave her an elaborate bow.

Fearing he was going to cross the road to her, she fled. ‘I shall find you again,’ he called after her, though he made no attempt to follow.

He had found her! That loathsome Lord Bentwater had come to her sanctuary and now it was a sanctuary no longer. She sped on, her breath coming in gasps. Down Church Street and the Rothay Road and into Borrans Road and up the lane to Highhead Hall she stumbled. She almost fell in the kitchen door, expecting to find Mrs Granger there, but the room was
empty. She made her way through to the back parlour, only to find that empty too. She remembered Mrs Summers saying something about going to Bowness. Alex would be down by the lake with Mr Maddox. It was Mr Maddox’s fault, pretending to be so friendly and helpful when all the time he had recognised her and betrayed her. That was why Bentwater had called out that he would find her. He had been told where to look…

Panic filled her. There was nothing for it, she must disappear again and quickly. It was not only herself she was thinking of, but Alex and Mrs Summers. They must not be implicated. She loved them both too much to put them through the ignominy of being accused of kidnapping her, when all they had done was to help her. However angry she was with Alex, she recognised the debt she owed him. Why he had seen fit to protect her she did not know, probably never would know, but now it was her turn to protect him.

But where could she go where that man would never find her? It would be risky to take a coach because it would be too easy to follow her. She needed somewhere to lie low, at least for a time. Running up to her room, she changed into her old grey striped dress, put a purse containing the five guineas she still had from pawning her pearls into her pocket, then pulled out her old carpet bag and packed everything she had brought with her from London, anything that could identify her and prove she had been sheltering here.

Once that was done, she looked around at the familiar room and then, choking on sobs, took the bag down to the kitchen, stuffed some food and a bottle of water into the top of it and left the house. She crossed the road and made her way over the bridge and up to Loughrigg. She knew the way now; knew how to avoid the walkers by scrambling over rough ground instead of using the path, and was soon standing outside the shepherd’s hut that had housed Mrs Yates.

The old sofa, the straw-stuffed mattress, the rickety table and two chairs were still there. So was some kindling by the fireplace, a few items of chipped crockery and a pan, though she dare not light a fire for fear the smoke might be seen. She did not want to shut the door; it was the only way light could come in and she wanted to be able to see anyone approaching. She left it open and slumped on to the sofa, disturbing a field mouse, which scuttled outside. She was almost sorry it had gone, leaving her without company of any sort.

‘Here I am and here I stay until the regatta is over,’ she said aloud, as if the sound of her own voice would comfort her. When the town was filled with visitors and there was a lot of noise with guns going off and cheering as everyone concentrated on the battle, she would creep out and get on a coach. She would go as far as her five guineas would take her and then look for work. She grimaced at the thought—from earl’s daughter to lady’s companion and now down to what? Kitchen maid? Scrubber of floors? Washer of dirty linen? And no one to befriend her, as Mrs Summers had done. And all because her mother had married a man with no scruples, no scruples at all. Cold and alone, she put her head into her hands and wept in utter despair.

Alex worked until dusk. He took a last look at his assembled fleet, then went into Bowness to make a few last-minute purchases before rowing over to the fortress to make sure everything was ready. For the last week the towns and villages about the lake had been filling up with visitors; every bed in every hotel and inn had been taken for miles around. It was going to be a grand occasion, far larger than his first conception of it. Satisfied that the regatta was going according to plan, even if his private life was not, he returned to the jetty at Waterhead.

Jeremy had had a wooden hut built by the water that he
called his office. It was where he listed the names of the entrants to the races, what the prizes would be and who had donated them. He had hoisted a flag on the roof. It was pale blue and sewn on to it were the words, Windermere Regatta. On the door was a notice: Mr Jeremy Maddox, starter. Alex put his head in the door. ‘Time to leave off,’ he said. ‘Come back with me for dinner.’

Jeremy left the hut, locking the door carefully behind him. ‘Much appreciated, Malvers. The landlady at my hotel is rushed off her feet and is not inclined to oblige me with meals out of normal hours.’

‘I hope my aunt is a little more flexible,’ Alex said, smiling. ‘Otherwise we shall have to resort to emptying the butter boat over Mrs Granger or going hungry. I’m starving.’

They made their way into the house through the kitchen, where Mrs Granger was banging about scraping uneaten food into a waste bin. She seemed more than a little agitated. ‘Sorry we are late, Mrs Granger, have you kept something for us?’

‘Yes, but you had better go and see Mrs Summers first, my lord. In a right stew she is.’

‘Why? Because we are late? Surely she and Miss Draper did not wait for us?’

‘She is in the drawing room,’ she said, not answering his question.

Alex lost his jovial air as he realised something was wrong. He hurried to the drawing room with Jeremy close behind. As soon as he entered the room, Amelia flung herself at him. ‘Alex, she’s gone. Emma has disappeared.’ She suddenly noticed Jeremy and realised her mistake. ‘Oh, I did not see you there, Mr Maddox. You must excuse me—I am so worried, I shall forget my own name next.’

Alex looked back at him and then at his aunt. ‘Jeremy knows, but we can trust him. Now, what’s this about Emma?’

‘She has disappeared. I came back from my shopping, but she was out. I did not think anything of it, she often goes out on her own, though we never should have allowed it. When she had not come back by dinner time, I went up to her room. Alex, her things have gone!’ The last words were a wail of distress.

‘Did she leave a note?’

‘No, nothing. And she took only what she had when she arrived. Everything I bought for her has been left behind.’

‘She cannot have gone far. We must find her. If anything has happened to her…’ He could not go on. ‘Did she have any money?’

‘I don’t think so. Five guineas, perhaps. It was all she had when she arrived and I would not take it from her. She may have spent it. I do not know. Oh, Alex, what are we going to do?’

‘Find her. Come on, Maddox, we must organise the men.’ He rushed outside to the stable block where many of the men he had employed had made comfortable quarters. In no time at all, they were despatched to all points of the compass, some to Ambleside, some to Bowness, some to Kendal, some to comb the fells, though he did not think she would go there so late in the day. It was already dark and the wind was getting up again. If she had taken her bag and a little money, it must mean she intended to leave the area and his best course would be to check the coaching inns. He had his horse saddled and set off to do that himself.

The first person he saw when he went into the Unicorn was Lord Bentwater. ‘Evening, Malvers,’ the man said, revealing his yellow teeth in a grin.

A
lex strode forward, an accusation on his lips, but then he checked himself. If Bentwater had not seen Emma, it would not do any good to alert him to her presence in the area. He forced himself to sound friendly. ‘Bentwater, what brings you here?’

‘This seems to be the place to be,’ he said. ‘London is empty and it looks as if everyone has decamped here. I would never have found a bed if one had not been booked for me. You are a dark horse, my friend.’

‘What do you mean by that?’ He was itching to get away and continue his search for Emma, but must show no impatience to this man. If he knew where Emma was…

‘Why, your ability to put a place on the map. All this hustle and bustle over a regatta.’

‘There is nothing new in that. The Lake District is already a popular destination. All I have done is revive an old tradition.’

‘To some effect.’

‘How did you hear about it?’

‘It has been reported in the newspapers.’

‘In the London papers?’ he queried in surprise.

‘Yes, of course. How you were employing old soldiers
and destitute women and children, and saving my good friend Maddox from drowning. It is the latest
on dit
.’

Alex groaned inwardly. He had trusted Jeremy and now it looked as though his trust had been misplaced. ‘Did he tell you that?’

‘I read it, I told you. And I thought I would have a little holiday, see the spectacle. And to take the opportunity for a little wager here and there.’

‘No other reason?’

‘No, should there be?’ His smile was oily.

‘I am flattered you should think it worth your while. Has London lost its attraction?’

‘Oh, yes. All my friends appear to be here.’

‘Did you come up by stage or the mail?’

‘Neither, brought my own coach. I shall need it to convey my bride home.’

‘Your bride? ’It was all Alex could do not to choke, though he had guessed that the man’s arrival must have something to do with Emma.

‘Yes, you remember Lady Emma Lindsay, stepdaughter to Sir George Tasker?’

‘I have not had the pleasure of meeting the lady.’

‘No?’ Again that predatory smile.

‘I remember you striking a bargain with Sir George over his vouchers. I never knew the outcome.’

‘The outcome, my dear Malvers, was that I have been frustrated, not by the lady, who was happy to accept my offer, but by others intent on thwarting me.’

Alex suppressed the urge to call him a liar. ‘Do go on. This is all very fascinating.’

‘She was abducted on the very day the announcement was to go out. Why do you think that was, Malvers?’

‘I have no idea. A jealous suitor, perhaps?’

‘Possibly. But whoever he is, he will be punished for his
crimes. Make no mistake about it, a crime has been committed. Sir George is on his way here and he will vouch that she accepted me, and a betrothal is binding, don’t you know.’

‘You mean you think her abductor is here?’

‘Oh, I know he is.’ And this time the smile was one of satisfaction.

If he stayed a moment longer, he would give in to the temptation to plant a facer on the man. ‘Can’t stay here gossiping, intriguing as it is,’ he said. ‘Things to do.’ And he strode off to find the innkeeper to ask if he had seen a tall young lady getting on a coach. The man had not, which did not surprise him. Emma had disappeared because she had seen Bentwater, he felt sure of that, so she would not have tried to leave from the Unicorn. But had Bentwater seen her?

He returned to where he had left his horse and rode back to Highhead Hall, musing as he went. Emma would flee in the opposite direction and that meant Bowness or Kendal, probably Kendal, and perhaps the men he had despatched in that direction had found her, or at least heard news of her.

His aunt had not gone to bed, but was pacing the drawing room. She looked up hopefully as he entered, but the hope died when she saw he was alone and was shaking his head.

‘No sign of her,’ he said. ‘But I encountered Lord Bentwater in Ambleside. I’ll lay odds she saw him and that precipitated her flight.’

‘Oh, poor child! Could she not have trusted us to protect her?’

‘Evidently not. Bentwater did not accuse me directly, but he hinted he knew where she was.’

‘I wish I did.’

‘You do not wish it any more heartily than I do. I pray that when the men return, they will have news of her.’

But when they trickled back long after midnight, they had no news at all. And when Maddox returned, leg weary, Alex
met him in the hall and pounced on him, grasping him by the throat and shaking him. ‘You toad, you vile, unspeakable toad! I trusted you…’ He realised he was choking the man and if he did not stop he might very well kill him. He let him go.

Jeremy coughed and spluttered and pulled at his cravat. ‘I say, Malvers, what was that for?’

‘For telling that…that evil muckworm, Bentwater, that Emma was here.’

‘I never did.’

‘’Course you did. My aunt would never have done anything so despicable and no one else knew.’

‘On my honour I did no such thing. Why would I?’

‘For devilment? For the reward? God! If I had thought you would take money, I would have offered it to you myself.’

‘I don’t need money. I’ve more than enough for my needs. On my life, I swear I have told no one. Why, I like the lady. She has guts, that one, and I would not condemn a dog to life with Lord B.’

‘Then can you suggest who might have told his lordship where to look for her? For surely someone did. He would not have come to Ambleside on a whim.’

‘You mean he is here?’

Jeremy’s genuine surprise convinced Alex he was telling the truth. ‘Yes. And crowing.’

‘Someone else must have seen her and drawn the same conclusion I did. As you yourself did, Malvers. Her description was circulated and she is hardly one to melt into the background, is she?’

Alex was forced to admit he was probably right. ‘I was too hasty. I beg your pardon.’

‘Granted.’

‘This is leading us nowhere,’ Mrs Summers put in, thankful Alex had not throttled the man. ‘The point is, where has she
gone? We must find her. We cannot let her wander about alone. With the whole district buzzing with offcomers, she might meet with some very bad characters, apart from Lord Bentwater, that is.’

‘I cannot see what more we can do tonight,’ Alex said. ‘Go to bed, Aunt, you must be exhausted.’

‘And do you expect me to sleep? I shall not shut my eyes. And what am I going to say to her mama?’

‘Speaking of her mama,’ Alex said suddenly, ‘Bentwater told me Sir George was on his way here. One must presume Lady Tasker is with him.’

This pronouncement brought about a wail of anguish from Mrs Summers, which Alex did his best to calm. ‘Emma is a resourceful young lady,’ he said. ‘She has proved it more than once, so we must hope she knew what she was going to do when she left and is managing without us.’ He sounded more confident than he felt, but it was important to calm his aunt.

‘You are not going to give up looking for her, Alex, are you?’

‘Never. Go to bed and rest, even if you do not sleep.’ He bent to kiss her cheek. ‘I am going out again.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘I don’t know. I am too restless to sit still.’

Jeremy followed him and they patrolled the grounds, looking in stables and byres, the coach house and the glass-houses, even though they had been the first places to be searched. ‘If Emma saw Bentwater, the first thing she would want to do is escape,’ Alex said. ‘And the best way of doing that would be to board a coach going out of the area. Five guineas, if she even has that amount, will not take her far, if she is to pay for lodgings at the end of her journey. We will widen our search tomorrow.’

‘What about the regatta?’

‘Damn the regatta.’

‘You are worried, I can understand that, but you cannot abandon it, not after the men have put so much effort into it. People have come from miles around to see the entertainment and take part in the competitions. It would be the biggest let-down since…since I don’t know when. You will be a laughing stock instead of a hero. Wherever she is, Emma will manage a day without you.’

Alex did not like being lectured to in that fashion, but Jeremy was only echoing his own thoughts. Perhaps Emma was safe somewhere of her own choosing, but if Bentwater should find her…

‘If we cannot find her, then I doubt Lord Bentwater will be able to,’ Jeremy said, as if reading his thoughts.

‘I hope you are right. He told me he is coming to the regatta. We can have him watched, every minute. I have enough men to do that. One false move on his part and we’ll know about it.’

‘He is a gambler,’ Jeremy added. ‘We could let him win a few pounds, that should keep him interested.’

They could do no more and returned to the house. Maddox went to bed, but Alex paced the room until a rosy dawn lightened the sky. It was going to be a fine day for the regatta. Perhaps that was a good sign. He went to his room, washed, changed his clothes and ate a frugal breakfast before going down to the lake. ‘Keep her safe until this day is over,’ he prayed.

It was only just light enough to see, but already the crowds were gathering. He found half a dozen of his best men and detailed them to look out for Lord Bentwater and keep him in sight the whole day. If the man tried to creep away, the fact was to be reported to him at once, whatever he was doing.

And then the business of the day claimed his attention.

Emma stirred cramped limbs as daylight found its way through the cracks in the building, which was only made of
mortared stones picked up from the ground about it. It had been so windy the night before the door had banged shut and she had left it shut. She had rolled herself up in a smelly blanket—the same one Mrs Yates had wrapped her in before—and curled up on the mattress to try to sleep. The wind howled outside and she could hear unfamiliar noises until she realised it was made by half a dozen sheep jockeying for position in the lee of the hut. They had settled at last and so had she.

She had ample time during that long, sleepless night to review her life and the situation in which she found herself. She went over her journey from London to Windermere, every step of it, the growing closeness with the man who had started out as a stranger and become the love of her life, their misunderstandings and reconciliations, his anger and his kisses and her reaction to both.

She had rehearsed every word they had ever said to each other, the pleasant exchanges and the acrimonious disputes which had only come about because of her stubbornness. She could not change the kind of person she was and stubbornness was one of the traits that kept her going in adversity, the determination not to be beaten. She was sure he understood that, but why had he not told her as soon as he found out who she was? Why keep up the pretence? Was it for the same reason she had, the feeling that she wasn’t safe, not even here so far from London? And she had been right. Lord Bentwater had found her. Was she safe, even now?

She rose and opened the door, letting in the daylight and a blast of cool fresh air. She ate some of the food she had brought and drank a little of the water, then she went outside and, walking up the hill a little way, climbed on to a rock that provided a good viewing platform. There were no walkers on the hill; they were all down by the lake, crowds of them, swarming all over the place, filling up the stands. From where
she stood, she could see part of the lake, could see the flotilla of boats made to look like warships and, from this distance, very realistic they looked, too. She could hear the sound of bugles borne on the wind, the roar of the crowd and guns going off to start the races. The best time to leave, she decided, was when it was growing dusk, when the regatta was over and everyone was making their way home. She could lose herself in the crowds.

It was a long day with nothing to do but think. She went for a walk, scrambling over rocks, running down inclines, drinking from springs; when she grew tired, she returned to the hut to eat the last of her food. Down on the lake the battle was in progress. She could see puffs of smoke from the vessels as they approached the distant island, but that was too far away for her to see the fortress and the flagpole to which Charlotte would be tied in her bright red dress.

It was strange how easily Alex had agreed when she had angrily declared she no longer wished to take part. But now she realised it was as well she was not there, in full view of everyone, including Lord Bentwater. Had Alex been warned that he was coming and that was why he had been so quick to ask Charlotte Pettifer to take over? It was of no consequence now. She had left and once she was on a coach—going—it did not matter where—she would never see him again. She choked back a sob. She had done enough crying to empty the lake and was determined to shed no more tears.

The sky above the lake was lit by fireworks, blue, red, green and yellow, bright star bursts and trailing comets, indicating the successful rescue of the maiden. She had seen it rehearsed so many times, she could see it in her mind’s eye. Alex, standing tall and triumphant in the prow of the
Lady Jane
with his arm about Charlotte, as they returned to harbour, escorted by the victorious fleet. And Charlotte
looking up at him with that flirtatious smile of hers. And then there would be the ball at the Assembly rooms. Alex would go and so would Mrs Summers. Would he think of her while he was dancing with Charlotte? Had she been banished from all their minds?

She was struck by a sudden thought. If Lord Bentwater was here, why should she not go home to her mother? Would she be welcomed and forgiven? Would Sir George concede that she was determined not to marry Bentwater and no longer insist? If the horrible man was not in town to force the issue, could she go back to being Lady Emma Lindsay? Would five guineas stretch that far if she travelled outside and did not buy refreshments? A carrier left Bowness for Kendal every day at dawn in time to catch the London coach—she could go on that. All she had to do was endure another night up here on the fells.