Runaway Miss Page 16

  However, the man coming round the side of the rock was not Lord Malvers, but Mr James Griggs. He grinned when he saw her. ‘Miss Draper, where are you off to in such a hurry?’

  ‘Nowhere. I was simply walking off that excellent picnic. What are you doing here?’

  ‘I thought you might like a little company.’

  ‘No, I am content to be alone.’

  ‘Oh, come now, Fanny, it cannot be much fun having no one to talk to but yourself.’

  ‘I am not in the habit of talking to myself, Mr Griggs. And I did not give you permission to address me by my given name.’

  ‘Oh, top lofty, are we? What have you to be so haughty about, miss? You should think yourself lucky that Mrs Summers is soft hearted and took you in, or you would be scrubbing floors.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Nevertheless, she was aware of the truth of what he said and supposed he had put his own interpretation on the tale Mrs Summers had told his mother.

  ‘I’m not, but that’s no matter. I’ve taken a fancy to you, Miss Fanny Draper, for all your uppity ways. You afford a challenge and I enjoy a challenge.’ He sat down beside her, so close she could feel his hot breath on her cheek. She tried to hitch herself further away from him, but she was pinned against the rock and there was nowhere to go. ‘I would like to see you unbend a little and smile more. Try it, just for me.’

  ‘Leave me alone. Go back to the others.’

  ‘All in good time when I’ve solved the mystery.’ He was leaning right into her, breathing into her face, one arm creeping around her back. ‘You are not what you seem, Miss Fanny Draper, I spotted that right away. Lady’s companions are dried-up old spinsters. You are far too beautiful and dignified for that, so tell me who you really are.’

  ‘I am what I say I am. Now go away.’ She tried to push him off her, but he simply laughed.

  ‘Where did you learn to be so proud? Was it from aping a previous mistress, or are you what London society calls a demi-rep, not quite respectable but ladylike enough to pass muster? I suspect it’s the latter. Or why would someone like Viscount Malvers trouble himself with you? His mistress, are you?’

  She was furious, not only that he had insulted her, but that he had assumed there was something going on between her and Lord Malvers, though he had come to a very different conclusion from Mrs Summers. Is that what everyone thought? She struggled against him, beating her hands on his chest. ‘How dare you say such a monstrous thing!’

  He put his other arm round her and captured her arms. ‘What’s good enough for his lordship is good enough for me.’ Then he tried to kiss her. She twisted her head back and forth, struggling to free herself. She opened her mouth to scream, but he clapped a hand over it. She bit him. Hard. He swore. ‘That is certainly not the behaviour of a lady or anything like one. I think you’re from the gutter—’

  He was given no opportunity to go on because he was seized from behind and literally thrown off her. She scrambled to her feet and flung herself into Alex’s arms. He held her close, relishing the feel of her body against his. ‘Did he hurt you?’

  She shook her head.

  He became aware that James was getting to his feet, rubbing his elbow where he had caught it on the edge of a rock. His coat sleeve was torn and his cravat awry. He was looking belligerent, coming forward as if to square up for a fight. ‘Get going, Griggs,’ Alex said coldly. ‘Unless you want more of the same.’

  ‘Don’t know what you’re making so much fuss about,’ James muttered. ‘Who does she think she is, aping her betters?’

  ‘Miss Draper is a lady and if you had an ounce of the gentleman in you, you would know that. Now, unless you want me to report your behaviour to your father, I suggest you make your way back to the picnic party.’

  Knowing himself bested, the young man left them, muttering imprecations and trying to adjust his cravat as he went. Alex turned back to Emma. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Yes. Thank you for coming to my rescue.’

  He laughed. ‘I seem to be making a habit of it.’ Always aware of her, even when he was being polite to other young ladies, he had seen her go off alone and later watched James Griggs leave off his drawing and go in the same direction and had decided to follow him. It was as well he had.

  ‘He was horrible and said some dreadful things,’ she said with a shudder. ‘Do all lady’s companions have to put up with that kind of behaviour?’

  ‘Only the very beautiful ones.’ He looked down into her upturned face and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. She shivered. ‘You are not afraid of me, are you?’

  ‘No, of course not.’ The shiver had been something else entirely, a kind of tremor of desire that she made herself stifle.

  ‘I’m glad. I would never do anything to hurt you, you know that, don’t you? Nor would I allow anyone else to harm you, believe me.’

  His words warmed her briefly. ‘Do you think I’m a demi-rep?’

  ‘Good lord, no!’ He laughed suddenly. ‘One of those would have known how to deal with a man like James Griggs.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Never mind. He won’t try it again.’

  ‘I am afraid you have made an enemy and that does not augur well for your regatta.’

  ‘Do you think I would consider that when your honour is at stake? In any case, what can he do? You forget, I am an old soldier, used to dealing with jackanapes like him. Do not worry about it.’ He paused to smile reassuringly at her, tempted to kiss her, but knowing such an action would be entirely inappropriate. ‘Now, we had better be going back before people begin to wonder where we’ve got to.’

  He released her and without his support she felt suddenly bereft, as if something precious that was within her grasp had been suddenly snatched away. If she had been more experienced as a woman, she might have been able to use the situation to her advantage, but she was as green as a cabbage and she knew he would see through any artfulness on her part. She followed him down the steep slope back to the bridge to find everyone packing up to return home. Amelia gave her a strange look and raised her eyebrows in a query. Emma simply shook her head.

  When they arrived back at Highhead Hall, the ladies entered by the front door and Alex went round to the stables with the carriage. Leaving it to the care of the grooms, he made his way into the house by the kitchen door to find Joe Bland had returned in their absence and was wolfing down a meal Mrs Granger had set in front of him. The dinner gong sounded before he could talk to him at any length and he was obliged to go to his room to change.

  ‘Your man has arrived,’ Amelia told him when he joined her and Emma in the dining room.

  ‘Yes. I saw him in the kitchen when I came in.’ He turned to Emma. ‘He tells me Miss Turner is safe with her mother, who was very pleased to have her home.’

  ‘Thank you, my lord.’

  ‘Don’t thank me, thank Joe. I did nothing.’

  ‘You let him go when you might have said you could not spare him.’

  ‘Fustian! I am not incapable of looking after myself, you know.’

  ‘I do know,’ she said, thinking of the incident that afternoon when he had sent James Griggs on his way. It was not the action of a man unused to looking after himself, or to having his orders disobeyed. ‘What else did he say?’

  ‘Nothing. There wasn’t time. I’ll talk to him later. Why did you ask?’

  ‘No reason. I thought he might have gone to Norfolk or London.’

  ‘For what purpose?’

  Emma felt her face grow hot and wished she had not spoken. Now he would quiz her, and though she longed to know if there had been a hue and cry over her disappearance she could not give that as her reason. ‘I collect you had business in London before you were called away to come here,’ she said lamely.

  ‘And if I did?’

  ‘I am sure it is nothing to do with me,’ she snapped. ‘I was only making conversation and you are using it as an excuse to quiz me.’

  Her waspish
answer was not at all called for and she mumbled an apology and bent to her meal, but suddenly found she had lost her appetite. She pushed the food around her plate and longed to escape. Fortunately Amelia came to her aid and engaged Alex in conversation, asking him about the regatta project and how his plans were progressing; while they talked, Emma was able to recover some semblance of dignity and the evening ended without further misunderstanding.

  Next morning, knowing his lordship would be talking at length to Joe Bland and not wanting to be on hand should he discover how she had deceived him, Emma dressed for walking, put on her boots and took herself off for a long trek on the fells. The lovely weather of the day before had disappeared. It had been like that all year: one lovely day followed by several of wind and rain. It wasn’t raining now, but overcast and quite cool considering it was June, supposedly the hottest month of the year.

  Half an hour after leaving home, she was climbing a rough path that would take her on to Loughrigg, a long, low fell that stretched all the way from just above Ambleside to Grasmere. She had made enquiries about the route and intended to make her way to the summit at Todd Crag and then down to Skelwith Bridge where she had been told there was a pretty waterfall and thence back by the road to Ambleside and Waterhead.

  There were some other walkers on the hills, but they did not bother her as she picked her way to the top, her mind more on her dilemma over Lord Malvers than on the scenery. Would Joe Bland tell him that Lady Emma Lindsay had disappeared from her home and her family were seeking her? Would he put two and two together? And, if he did, how angry would he be? On the other hand, why should Joe Bland pick up any of the gossip of the haut monde? He was a home-coming soldier, a servant, and such matters would pass over his head.

  What did she think she was doing, wandering about the hills all alone? Especially after Mrs Summers’s warning? For even up here she could not hide from the truth of who she was. It would be better to make a clean breast of it and hope for the best. At least she could then take her place in what passed for high society hereabouts. But to do that would mean making a liar of Mrs Summers and laying her open to gossip and that would be unfair to her kind hostess. And if her stepfather were to hear where she was, he would be up here like a shot, dragging her back to be married to Lord Bentwater. Unless Viscount Malvers stepped in. But what on earth possessed her to suppose he might do anything of the sort? Just because he had said he would not let anyone harm her did not mean he would condone what amounted to daughterly disobedience.

  He had looked after her on their journey and kissed her, it was true, but looking after her was simply the action of a kind and chivalrous man and, as far as he was aware, he was only kissing a superior kind of servant, not anyone of any consequence. That kiss had set her heart beating nineteen to the dozen and turned her limbs to jelly, very different from the revulsion she had felt when Mr Griggs attempted it. It made her realise how much Alex Malvers had come to mean to her, that she loved him more than she knew how to express. But he must never know; it would be too humiliating to have him scoff at the temerity of someone as lowly as a lady’s companion aspiring to catch the eye of a viscount. And if he ever learned that she was not lowly at all, but an earl’s daughter, he would be angry that she had not trusted him enough to confide in him. And none of that meant he loved her.

  She reached the summit and stood for a moment to get her breath back and found Ambleside, Waterhead and almost the whole of Lake Windermere spread out below her. The wind, which had been a gentle breeze on the lower slopes, was fierce enough up here to grab at her skirt and send it billowing about her legs. Her hat fell down her back and her hair came undone. Suddenly she found herself laughing. Lady Emma Lindsay would never have come out alone and certainly not in such a dishevelled state. Miss Fanny Draper was another matter, not important enough to need an escort. But which was she? She hardly knew any more. She turned her back on Windermere and began walking again…

  ‘You think she is Lady Emma?’ Alex asked Joe. They were talking in the stables. Alex was dressed for riding, having intended to ask Miss Draper if she cared to accompany him. He had been disconcerted to discover she had gone out very early, telling Mrs Granger she meant to go for a walk. He hoped she would not go far because the clouds were building up again and it could be very unpleasant on the fells in the rain. It was easy to lose your way even if you knew the paths well; if you did not know the area, it would be hopeless.

  ‘I’d lay odds on it,’ Joe said, answering his question. ‘The talk is that she’s gone missing, that her mother is laid low with the worry of it and her stepfather spitting fire. He sent Runners out to all points of the compass, but neither hide nor hair of her has been found. There’s a reward out for her safe return.’

  ‘Safe!’ Alex exclaimed. ‘Home is the last place she would be safe.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because Sir George is gambling with her life.’ He saw the look of puzzlement on Joe’s face and explained how he came to know Sir George’s intentions, making Joe whistle.

  ‘If our Miss Draper is the same lady,’ Alex went on, ‘I can understand her wish to remain undiscovered.’

  ‘Are you going to face her with it?’

  ‘No. We will allow her the comfort of her disguise. And you will say nothing either. If she wants me to know, she will tell me in her own time.’

  ‘You can rely on me, Major. But o’ course we could be wrong all along.’

  ‘We could.’ He paused. ‘There’s a dozen or so men coming here today. Find out what they need in the way of implements and materials and set them to work on the yacht. I want it to look like a miniature battleship. I’m going to talk to my aunt and then I’m going after our intrepid adventurer. She could find herself in danger without even knowing it.’

  He had already explained to Joe about his project and been promised his wholehearted support, so he had no qualms about leaving him in charge. No one knew better that Joe Bland, one-time long-serving sergeant, how to get the best out of a band of men. He found his aunt in her parlour with a pair of wire spectacles on her nose, reading a local newspaper.

  ‘You have already made your mark,’ she said when he entered the room. ‘There is an account here of everything you have done since you arrived and couched in the most glowing terms. There is even a hint that you are planning a most spectacular entertainment for the whole population.’ She put the paper down and looked up at him. ‘That is what you need to make the regatta a success, Alex, good publicity.’

  ‘Yes, I know. Without it, no one will know what is happening. I thought I might go into Kendal and arrange for posters to be printed and distributed.’ He sat down opposite her. ‘Aunt, there is something particular I want to ask you.’

  ‘Ask away, dear boy, I will answer if I can.’

  ‘Do you know who Fanny Draper really is?’

  ‘Oh, dear, perhaps I should have said I will answer if I am at liberty to do so.’

  ‘It is not your secret to tell?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But you do know she is not Fanny Draper?’

  ‘Alex, you are making it very difficult for me. It is not in my nature to tell an untruth.’

  ‘Then do not say anything. Nod your head if I am right. She is not Fanny Draper, she is Lady Emma Lindsay.’ Amelia nodded, obviously distressed. ‘Do not worry, Aunt, I am not going to tax her with it. I know perfectly well why she had to leave home. I was there when the bargain was struck.’

  ‘You were?’ she asked in surprise.

  ‘Yes.’ For the second time that morning he explained what had happened.

  ‘Does she know you were there?’

  ‘Heaven forbid! But how did you become involved?’

  ‘Her mother is an old friend of mine. She sent her to me. It was done in such a hurry, she could not pack properly, nor be given sufficient funds. Her mama gave her a pearl necklace and told her to pawn it if she needed money. Unfortunately, it turned out to be made of paste. I was so t
hankful you were on hand to see she was safe.’

  ‘The devil had the real pearls, I’ll be bound. Is there no end to his wickedness? But talking of being safe, do you know where she has gone this morning?’

  ‘She told Mrs Granger she was going for a walk and asked her where the best views were. Mrs Granger suggested Loughrigg, seeing it’s a fairly easy climb, or round Wansfell to Jenkyns Crag.’

  His heart sank; the walks were in opposite directions. Grimly, he said, ‘The wind is getting up and I think there’s a storm blowing up. I’m going to look for her.’

  ‘A storm? Oh, merciful heavens! Take some of the men with you. You’ll never find her alone. Oh dear, oh dear, whatever will her mother say? She sent her to me to be safe and I have failed her.’ She had left her seat and was pacing the room in her agitation. ‘Oh, I shall never forgive myself if she is lost or hurt. Find her Alex, find her, please.’

  He endeavoured to retain a calm façade, for his aunt’s sake, but his voice betrayed his fear as he promised, ‘I will. Do not distress yourself. I’ll be back with her safe and sound in no time.’ He left her standing at the widow, peering up into the hills, as if trying to see into the distance and discover Emma’s whereabouts.

  Back in the stables he had his horse saddled because he would be quicker on horseback. Then he told the men to leave off what they were doing and search the fells, some to go to Wansfell, some to Grasmere and Rydal Water. ‘Every nook and cranny,’ he commanded. He did not wait to see if they understood but, slinging a coil of rope over his shoulder just in case it should be needed, mounted Salamanca and galloped off down the road to Waterhead, crossed the bridge and made for Loughrigg. He did not know if the stallion would manage the whole ascent, but he would ride as far as he could, then tether him.

  The wind blew the rain in from the west and Emma pulled her jacket closer about her and plodded on. She ought to abandon her walk and return by the quickest route to the valley and home. There was a path leading downwards and she took it, but it petered out and she found herself looking about her for a landmark, something to give her a direction, and was shocked to find she was alone. There were no other walkers in sight. They had obviously interpreted the weather signs before she did and made their way off the fells. She told herself she could not possibly be lost. Ambleside lay behind her and Grasmere to the north, though what was on the western side of the hill she had no idea. Had she strayed there? The wind was in her face. That was surely the wrong direction. She turned and tried walking with it at her back, but there was no path and the rain was making the scree slippery.