Runaway Miss Page 4

  She could run away, but that would break her mother’s heart; besides, if she just disappeared, Mama would have half the ton out looking for her, not to mention Runners and constables and it would not be fair to worry her so. And it would make no difference in the long run; she would be hauled back in disgrace and she was quite sure it would not put Lord Bentwater off, for hadn’t Sir George said the man enjoyed a challenge? It was almost dawn before she fell into a restless sleep and then her dreams were of huge black spiders and struggling in a sticky web from which she could not escape.

  It seemed she had barely closed her eyes when a hand shook her awake again. ‘Sweetheart, wake up.’

  She woke with a half-scream; the nightmare had been very real, but it was her mother standing over her with a lighted candle. She was wearing a dressing gown over her nightgown and her hair hung loosely about her shoulders. ‘Shh, not so loud, my love.’

  ‘What’s wrong, Mama? What time is it?’

  ‘Just after five o’clock.’

  ‘Five! Couldn’t you sleep?’

  ‘No.’ She sat down on the side of the bed. ‘Emma, I cannot let you go to that dreadful man. You must leave. Now, before George wakes up.’

  ‘But where will we go?’

  ‘We? I cannot go with you, child. My place is with my husband.’

  ‘I cannot leave you. I want to escape that dreadful man, but the thought of leaving you behind is not to be borne.’

  ‘You must. If we both go, we shall attract attention and George will find us and make us come back. It must look as though you have gone alone. I shall deny all knowledge of your intentions.’ She opened Emma’s wardrobe and began pulling out clothes. ‘I’ve spoken to Rose and she has agreed to go with you. As soon as you are safe arrived, she can go to her mother. If George asks to question her, I shall tell him I obeyed his instructions and turned her off.’ She was throwing garments on the bed as she spoke. ‘There is nothing suitable here. You cannot go dressed as a lady, that would be asking for someone to become suspicious and if it becomes known Sir George is looking for you, especially if he offers a reward, you will soon be brought back.’

  ‘Mama, do stop throwing my clothes about and come and sit down again. Where am I to go and how will I travel? And how will you know I am safe?’

  Lady Tasker sat down and took her daughter’s hands. ‘You will go by stage to a very old friend of mine who lives in Kendal in Cumbria. Her name is Mrs Amelia Summers. I have had no correspondence with her since I remarried and Sir George knows nothing about her, so he will not think of her. I have no money for a hired chaise and besides, like elegant clothes, it would only cause comment. I will give you all the money I have and the pearls your father left for your twenty-first birthday. George knows nothing about them. I’ve kept them hidden. You’ll have to sell them or perhaps pawn them. You never know, we might have a stroke of luck and be able to redeem them.’

  Emma realised that would only come about if Sir George became ill and died, but, as he was disgustingly healthy and never exerted himself, that prospect seemed far distant. ‘Mama, I am not at all sure I should agree to this.’

  ‘Do you want to marry that dreadful man?’

  ‘You know I do not. But I am afraid for you.’

  ‘Sir George will not harm me. There is no other way and we are wasting time.’ She handed Emma an envelope. ‘Here is the letter to Mrs Summers and here, in this purse, is the necklace and twenty guineas. I have no more, but it should be enough for your fares and for Rose’s return fare, with some over.’

  ‘Mama, I can’t—’

  ‘Please do not argue, Emma. It has taken all my resolve to come to this and I want you to go. When you are safe arrived, write to Lady Standon, not me. You had better have a pseudonym and one Sir George will never guess. Say the first thing that comes into your head…’

  She looked about her, noticed the bed curtains and promptly said. ‘Draper. Miss Fanny Draper.’

  ‘Good. When you write to Lady Standon, be circumspect.’ She stood up, ‘Now I am going to send Rose to you. She might have something suitable for you to wear.’

  She left the room, leaving Emma shaking with the enormity of the undertaking. She had never travelled anywhere alone before and never on a public coach. But it was not so much that that made her hesitate, it was the thought of leaving her mother. But perhaps it would not be for long. Perhaps Sir George, when he realised how determined she was, would relent and she could come home again. She left her bed and poured cold water from the jug on her washstand into a bowl and washed her face.

  She was brushing her hair when Rose crept into the room. ‘I’ve brought a dress of mine for you to wear on the journey,’ she whispered. ‘But you had better take a few garments of your own for when you arrive. I’ll pack them while you dress. We can’t take more than a carpet bag, considering we will have to carry it.’

  ‘Rose, am I doing the right thing?’

  ‘Yes. Now do not trouble yourself over the rights and wrongs of it, for the wrong is all with Sir George. We must hurry before the rest of the house stirs.’ She finished the packing and turned to look at Emma. A little giggle escaped from her. ‘Who is to say who is mistress and who servant now?’

  ‘I cannot get into your shoes.’

  ‘Then you must wear your own. It won’t matter.’ She picked up a cloak that had seen better days. ‘Here, put this on, the morning is chilly.’ She draped it over Emma’s shoulders and buttoned the neck. ‘It’s shabby, but that’s all to the good, we don’t want you recognised, do we? Come on, let’s be off.’

  ‘But I must say goodbye to Mama.’

  ‘She is waiting in the kitchen. We will go out of the back door.’ She picked up the carpet bag, opened the door and peered up and down the corridor. ‘All clear,’ she whispered.

  The farewell she bade her mother was tearful on both sides, but could not be prolonged in case Sir George woke and came in search of his wife. ‘Go now,’ her mother said, giving her a little push towards the outside door. ‘God keep you and bless you. Rose, look after her, won’t you?’

  ‘I’ll do my best, my lady.’ She turned to Emma. ‘Come, my lady…No, that cannot be. What are you to be called?’

  ‘Fanny Draper.’

  And so it was Lady Emma Lindsay who stepped out of Lindsay House, but Fanny Draper who linked her arm in Rose’s to walk to Lad Lane and the Swan with Two Necks.

  ‘How do you know where to catch the stage?’ Emma asked.

  ‘It is how I arrived when I came back after my mother’s last lying-in. There is nothing to it. We buy our tickets and climb aboard. I know it is not what you are used to, but think of it as an adventure. As long as no one perceives you for a lady, you should be safe enough. You will not mind if I treat you as an equal? It will look odd if I do not.’

  ‘No, of course I shall not mind. From this minute on, there is no Lady Emma, only a woman called Fanny.’

  The Swan with Two Necks was a very busy inn, with coaches coming and going all the time, disgorging and taking on passengers. There was a small ticket office to one side of the building where the two girls were obliged to stand in line for their turn to be served. Waiting was torture and Emma began to worry that there would not be seats for them. And the longer they had to wait, the more likely it was that Sir George would discover her absence and send people out searching for her. The first place he would check would be the coaching inns.

  She let Rose do the talking when they reached the little window. ‘Two inside seats to Kendal,’ she said.

  ‘No inside seats, miss. There’s two going on top. Three pounds ten shillings each and that takes you only as far as Manchester. You need another carrier to take you the rest of the way.’

  Adventurous as she was, Emma could not view the prospect of travelling outside with equilibrium. ‘Oh dear, Rose, what are we to do? Is there another coach?’

  ‘Not to Manchester,’ the man said. ‘You can go to Chester from the Golden Cross.’
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  ‘But we cannot be sure of getting to Kendal from there, can we?’ she whispered to Rose.

  ‘No. Perhaps if we take the outside seats, we will be able to change them later when we have gone a little way.’

  ‘Change them now.’

  Emma swung round at the sound of the male voice, ready to take to her heels if he should prove to be an emissary of her stepfather’s. The man who faced her was at least a head taller than she was, but the rest of him was in perfect proportion: broad shoulders in a burgundy-coloured coat, slim hips, muscular legs in well-fitting pantaloons tucked into shining Hessians. She looked up into his face. His expression was proud, almost arrogant, and his startlingly blue eyes had a steely depth which indicated he was not used to being crossed. Or perhaps it was sadness; she could not be sure. He smiled and doffed his hat, revealing fair curly hair.

  ‘I beg your pardon.’ It was said haughtily. Ladies simply did not speak to men who had not been formally introduced.

  ‘Oh, no need to beg my pardon,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I can as easily ride outside as in.’

  ‘But, sir, there are two of us and only one of you.’

  ‘My man is travelling with me. We will both climb on top.’ He turned to a man who was supervising the stowing of luggage in the boot of the coach which was just then being loaded. ‘Joe, what have you done with our tickets?’

  The man reached up to his hat where two tickets were stuck in the ribbon around the crown. ‘Here, my lord.’

  Alex took them and handed them to Emma. ‘There, with my compliments. I will take the outside tickets offered to you.’

  ‘I am most grateful, sir.’

  ‘My pleasure. The passengers are being called to their seats. Is this your luggage?’ He pointed at Emma’s carpet bag and Rosie’s bundle.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Joe, stow them safely, will you? And then climb aboard. We are going to see the countryside from on high.’ He bowed to the girls, settled his hat back on his head and held the door for them to enter. ‘Perhaps we shall have an opportunity to speak when the coach stops for refreshments.’ He shut the door, took the outside tickets Rose had hurriedly paid for with the money Emma had given her earlier, and hardly had time to climb up beside his man before they were away.

  Emma leaned back in her seat and shut her eyes. She had never felt less like sleeping, but she wanted to collect her scattered wits. It was a little over two hours since her mother had woken her and here she was on the greatest adventure of her life. If she had not been so worried about Mama and what might be happening back at Lindsay House, she might have been looking forward to it.

  Chapter Two

  The other two passengers taking the inside seats were a young man and his wife who sat holding hands and smiling shyly at each other. They posed no threat and Emma allowed herself to relax.

  ‘He is a handsome man, is he not?’ Rose commented in a whisper.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The man who gave us his tickets. Did you hear his servant call him “my lord”?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I wonder who he is. You do not know him, do you?’

  ‘No, thank goodness. The last thing I want is to meet someone known to me.’ ‘All the same, it was good of him to give up his seats for us.’

  ‘Indeed it was. I am sorry I had no time to thank him properly, nor did I offer to pay the difference in the price.’

  ‘No doubt you will have the opportunity when the coach stops for us to take refreshment.’

  ‘I shall make a point of it.’

  They stopped every fourteen miles to have the horses changed, but the passengers remained in their seats for this operation which only took two or three minutes. It was half past ten and they had been on the road just over two hours when the coach pulled in at the Peahen in St Albans and the coachman invited his passengers to partake of breakfast.

  Emma and Rose left the coach and stood in the yard, looking at the inn which had a decidedly unpretentious appearance. Emma, who had never been inside an inn before, was reluctant to enter it, but as it was imperative that she find somewhere to relieve herself, she ducked her head under its low lintel, followed by Rose.

  Having made themselves more comfortable in a room set aside for ladies, they found their way to the dining room, where the chivalrous lord and his servant were breakfasting together. Normally this would have struck Emma as strange, but as the whole adventure was out of the ordinary and she herself was travelling with her maid on an equal footing, she paid no heed to it, but approached the pair with a confident step.

  ‘My lord, I am in your debt.’

  Alex looked up at her as if seeing her for the first time. Here was a very tall young lady, scrupulously clean but dressed in a somewhat shabby cloak, beneath which could be seen a striped cotton skirt in two shades of grey. Her hair was almost concealed by a plain straw bonnet tied on with ribbon. But it was not the clothes that commanded his attention, but the strikingly beautiful face. It was a perfect oval, the skin creamy and unblemished. The strong chin, straight nose, wide violet eyes and arched brows were too refined to belong to a servant and the confident way she spoke seemed to confirm she was other than she looked. The slightly high colour of her cheeks betrayed a certain nervousness. He was intrigued.

  ‘Not at all,’ he said, standing out of politeness, something a real servant would have thought strange, but she seemed to accept it as her due. ‘My pleasure, ma’am.’

  It was not often she had to look up to a man, but she did so now. ‘But inside seats cost more than those on the outside, my lord.’

  ‘A mere fribble. Think nothing of it.’

  ‘At least tell me to whom I am indebted.’

  Oh, that was not the speech of an ill-educated commoner. He smiled. ‘I thought perhaps you knew. You addressed me as “my lord”.’

  ‘I heard your servant address you thus.’

  She was observant too, and quick. ‘So he does, but not always. He has been known to be forgetful and call me Major. I answer as readily to either. Let me introduce myself, seeing there is no one else to do the office. I am Viscount Malvers, one-time Major in the Norfolk Regiment of Foot, at your service.’ He bowed as he would to a lady. She did not seem in the least surprised by this, prompting him to add, ‘May I know your name?’

  Emma felt Rose dig her in the ribs, reminding her of her new identity. ‘Oh, I’m no one of any importance at all,’ she said, trying to affect a silly giggle which sounded false in her ears. She decided not to try it again. ‘I am Fanny Draper.’

  ‘I am pleased to meet you, Miss Draper,’ he said, bowing again. ‘Have you had breakfast?’

  ‘Not yet.’ She looked about her. All the tables seemed to be full and there were only two waiters dashing between them. ‘Perhaps we shall not bother.’

  ‘Then please do join me.’ And when she appeared to hesitate, added, ‘Your companion too. You cannot travel for hours without sustenance and it will be some time before we stop again. You will find I can command a more assiduous service than most.’ And with that he clicked his fingers at a passing waiter, who instantly left whatever he had been going to do and approached him. ‘Breakfast for the ladies,’ Alex told him. ‘Coffee, ham, eggs, toasted bread and butter, and be quick about it. Time is pressing.’

  Rose laughed and it was Emma’s turn to nudge her with her elbow. She stopped instantly and they took the other two seats at the table and were soon enjoying a hearty breakfast. Emma was surprised how hungry she was. Perhaps it was the effect of the high emotion of the past few hours, or perhaps because she had missed supper at Almack’s while she had been in the ladies’ room contemplating her reflection and had eaten nothing since six o’clock the previous evening.

  Alex watched her, a faint smile playing about his lips. ‘Do you travel beyond Manchester, Miss Draper?’

  The last thing she wanted was to be quizzed on her destination, but she could hardly refuse to answer without appearing uncivil. ‘Yes, we are g
oing to the Lake District.’

  ‘What a happy coincidence. So am I. Which lake in particular?’

  ‘I am not sure there is a lake. I am to be met at Kendal to take up a position as companion to a lady.’ For a spur-of-the-moment answer she thought it did very well, though she prayed he would not ask any other questions. To prevent that, she asked one of her own. ‘Where are you bound, my lord?’

  ‘To Windermere. I have an uncle there. I used to stay with him when I was a boy, but it is many years since I visited him.’

  ‘I expect you were prevented by your being in the army.’

  ‘Yes. I was out of the country from ’09 to ’14 and I had barely been home six months when I was recalled to go to Waterloo.’

  ‘I believe that was a prodigious gory battle. I heard the Duke of Wellington called it a close-run thing.’

  He smiled, knowing perfectly well what she was at and prepared to humour her. If he wanted his curiosity about her satisfied, he would have other opportunities. ‘Yes, he did and it was certainly that.’

  ‘Did you sustain any injury yourself?’

  ‘Fortunately, no.’

  ‘And now you are home again and ready to resume your civilian life. No doubt you find it strange.’

  ‘Indeed, I do. I am fortunate in having a home and occupation to return to. Many others are not so lucky.’

  ‘Occupation, my lord?’ she queried.

  ‘An estate to run. I have recently come into my inheritance.’

  ‘And is that in the Lakes?’

  ‘No, in Norfolk.’

  ‘You are a long way from home, my lord.’

  He laughed. ‘Is that meant as a criticism, Miss Draper?’

  She blushed furiously. ‘Oh, no, I would not dare…I beg your pardon. My mother always used to say I had too much curiosity.’

  ‘I forgive you. And so that you do not run away with the idea that I shirk my duty—’