Fenella J. Miller (9 page)

He shook his head in mock ferocity. “I am deeply shocked, young lady that you even know what a rake is.”

She pouted and placed a fingertip on her lips. “It is a garden instrument, is it not, sir? I must own myself a trifle puzzled as to why a gentleman should be likened to such a thing.”

“You, my angel, are a baggage. Now stop this tomfoolery, there is something urgent we must all do.”

Whilst she and James had been talking nonsense, Sarah and Lord Bloomfield had flung open the windows. The sound of sweet music drifted up through the still night air. He held out his hand and she took it. She was to have the last waltz with the man she loved after all.

As they spun in perfect unison, he tightened his hold until every inch of her was pressed against his chest. Then, as if she weighed no more than a feather, her feet were drifting and he whirled her around with his chin resting on top of her head. As they turned, she saw Sarah as closely held as she. Her friend was smiling up at her partner, her face illuminated by love.

They were still dancing when the church clock struck midnight. At the last stroke, the music stopped and the sound of cheering and clapping from the guests below filled the room. At this moment, Elizabeth knew she could not leave him. Whatever the consequences, she would stay at his side until they could be united in the sight of God.

“Oh dear! I wish I had not eaten quite so much, I feel decidedly queasy after all that spinning around.”

Sarah’s laughing comment broke the spell and they collapsed onto one of the small wooden chairs, once used for children, to catch their breath. Now was the time to tell James the bad news.

“James, I shall not be one and twenty until the end of next November. Lord Hartford will never give me permission to marry. What are we to do?”

“You can elope to Gretna Green and get married over the anvil. I believe this is all the rage amongst the
cognoscenti
at the moment.”

“We shall do no such thing, Miss Culley. When Elizabeth and I are united, it will be with our friends there to wish us well and a sumptuous wedding breakfast to follow. We are not having a havey-cavey ceremony in Scotland.”

How fierce he sounded, but he was quite right. She would hate to be obliged to run away in order to be married. “Then I have no option but to take up my position as a governess. I cannot live without the benefit of clergy in your establishment, James.”

“You shall do no such thing. You’re the granddaughter of an earl; it would be most unfitting for you to work for your living. In fact I can safely say it will be over my dead body that you become anyone’s companion or governess.”

Lord Bloomfield chuckled and waved his hand for calm. “Stop bickering, children. I have the perfect solution. You shall come and live with my brood, my dear. No one would ever think me rackety in the slightest.” He winked at Sarah and she blushed rosily.

“Thank you, Lord Bloomfield. If you are sure, I shall be thrilled to come and live with you. I can be companion to your girls whilst you are on your wedding trip.”

“Then everything is settled. We can spend the next eleven months getting to know each other better. You can choose the furnishings for our home, sweetheart, and maybe I can persuade Lord Hartford to give his consent before the time is up.”

Sarah collected up the dirty crockery and cutlery and placed everything on one tray. “We had better take this back. I don’t want any of the staff to face unpleasant repercussions tomorrow morning.”

“Don’t worry; if this goes in the dressing room it won’t be seen. I can assure you none of the items will be missed. There is an overabundance of such things at Hartford Hall.”

Elizabeth and Sarah fondly embraced. His lordship patted her on the cheek affectionately and then they were gone, leaving her alone with James. She could hardly believe another hour had passed and the time was now one o’clock.

“Tomorrow, darling girl, you will be moved downstairs where you belong. You are under the protection of Bloomfield now. In the future, you will be given the respect you deserve.” He raised her hand and kissed the palm. “I must not linger here; I shall be counting the minutes until we are together again.”

“Goodnight, my love. Take care on the stairs. You had better take a candlestick.”

The schoolroom no longer seemed a lonely place. In the past few hours it had been filled with laughter, love and happiness. She spotted the leather folder she’d brought down from the attics. Botheration! She had yet to write a letter to her erstwhile employers saying she was no longer able to take up her position next week. Yawning hugely, she picked up a pen and uncorked the ink bottle. Better to get it done now; she might not have the opportunity tomorrow.

The door crashed open, the ink spilled across the table and Lady Hartford and her daughters stormed in.

“Y
OU
A
RE
A W
ANTON
light skirt, my girl. You have been up here alone with Sir James these past four hours. I will not have such goings-on under my roof and at Christmas time too.”

Helplessly, Elizabeth looked from one face to the other, hoping at least Eleanor would understand, would not condemn her without hearing the true story. Then, she realised she could not reveal Sarah had been up here with Bloomfield as they wished to keep their liaison a secret.

“I shall not lower myself to your level, madam. You may think what you like. Your opinion is of no interest to me. Kindly leave my chambers; you are not welcome here.”

“Hoity-toity! Brave words will get you nowhere. You will leave my home right now, miss. I’ll not have you soiling my establishment a minute longer.” Lady Hartford turned and beckoned to the same unpleasant footmen who had been outside her door with Lord Hartford. Even they looked shamefaced at what they were being asked to do. “Take this person to the gates and leave her there. Do it now.”

Eleanor finally spoke up. “Oh no, please, Mama — you cannot send her out in the middle of the night in a ball gown. She will surely perish from the cold; she does not deserve to die for her misbehaviour.”

“How can you speak up for her, sister? She has betrayed your trust, disgraced our house, is little better than a common — ”

“Enough, Amelia, hold your tongue. You may collect your cloak and put on your boots, miss. You have five minutes and then you will be evicted.”

There was no point in arguing; she would do as she was told. Snatching up the precious folder, she hurried into her bedchamber. Thank God she had already packed a bag with essentials. At least she would not arrive at her destination without a change of clothes. There was just time to tear off her gown and pull on her warmest garment. Her cloak was on and her boots laced when her ladyship stormed in.

“Do you come quietly, or do my men have to drag you out like a felon?”

With calm dignity, Elizabeth picked up her bag and walked past her tormentors with her head held high. She knew, even if they did not, she was no longer friendless and destitute. James and Lord Bloomfield would come and find her when they discovered this woman’s perfidy.

She could hear Eleanor sobbing quietly but did not look back. She needed all her fortitude to get her down the stairs without mishap. She was not to leave via the front door, but was pushed unceremoniously through a rear exit. After the warmth of the house the cold outside quite took her breath away.

“Release me at once. I promise you will get your comeuppance for your part in this. I have no need of your escort; I am quite capable of walking down the drive myself.”

Ignoring the two footmen, she strode off into the darkness. There was not even a glimmer of moonlight to help her see the way. The crunching behind her soon stopped. They had obviously decided she would leave of her own volition and did not need their assistance. No doubt, they would be in their beds, snug and warm, before she reached the end of the drive.

Even though the night was inky black, the snow glowed strangely and she was able to find her way safely to the gravel drive. She sent up a fervent prayer she would be able to complete the three mile walk without falling into a ditch or freezing to death. She stopped for a moment to adjust her muffler so it obscured her nose and mouth then, with her bag held tightly to her chest beneath the folds of her cloak, she resumed her march.

Several times she stumbled, grazing her hands and knees and dropping her bag. Then as if her prayers were answered, the clouds drifted away leaving the lane bathed in silver light. The church clock struck twice. She had been walking for almost an hour and should be reaching the outskirts of the town shortly.

The King’s Head was her destination; she would not give in to her fatigue or allow the numbing cold to interfere. Somehow she would reach safety, take a room and wait until James came to find her. But her legs were leaden and she stumbled and dropped her bag. Several items spilled out.

There was a five-barred gate leading to a meadow just beside her. This would be ideal to lean against whilst she repacked her bag. She gathered her belongings and picked her way carefully towards the gate. Inches from her destination, her ankle turned and she plunged forwards, striking her head on the gate.

James found his valet snoring quietly in the dressing room and he had not the heart to wake him for he could quite easily disrobe himself. After putting his garments onto a convenient chair, he climbed into bed, but sleep eluded him. He tossed and turned, heard the clock strike two and decided he might as well get dressed again. His head was buzzing with the amazing possibilities ahead of him.

Against all the odds, he had finally fallen irrevocably in love with the most wonderful woman. In future, he would no longer be alone, but have someone to share his life with. His mouth curved as he thought how it would feel to hold their first child in his arms.

“Sir James, you should have woken me. Are you getting up or retiring?”

“I could not sleep. I’m going downstairs to find myself a hot drink. Why don’t you accompany me?” Shrugging on his navy blue, superfine coat he snatched up a starched white band of material and expertly tied his cravat. “The moon is out and I shall go for a walk whilst you find the kitchens and make me a pot of coffee. Bring it to the study. Do you know where that chamber is?”

“I do. Jenny, one of the parlour maids, told me that was where you were yesterday afternoon.”

James threw his caped driving coat over his shoulders and grabbed his gloves and beaver. A candlestick would be necessary to see them through the house, but outside was light enough to walk about without the aid of a lantern.

The massive Yule log crackled in the grate, making the vestibule comfortably warm. It made no sense to unbolt the front door. He would find a side exit somewhere and leave that way. The sound of running footsteps behind him made him look round. Was his beloved coming to him? Had she somehow sensed he was up?

He waited expectantly. Lady Eleanor ran down the stairs, her face ravaged by tears. She was still in her evening finery.

“My dear girl, what’s wrong? How can I be of assistance?”

“I have not been able to settle; I went to your chamber but you were not in it. Oh, Sir James, a most dreadful thing has happened. My mother has turned Elizabeth out into the night. Amelia told her you and she had spent time alone in her chambers. You must go after her; she will likely freeze out there.”

“I thank the good Lord that you have come to me. Let’s pray your intervention has been in time.” Duncan was at his side, his leathery face etched with worry. “Rouse the house, get all the gentlemen down here. We must start a search. She could be anywhere.” He glared at the shivering girl. “How long is it since she was turned out?”

“More than an hour; I persuaded Mama to let her change out of her ball gown so she had warm clothes and boots on.”

“It is a great pity, my lady, you did not come at once to fetch me. If anything has happened to Miss Baverstock, you are as culpable as your mother and sister.”

Duncan ran to the huge brass dinner gong and started hammering on it. This was an excellent notion and with luck, the servants would get up as well. He would not wait; he must set out at once. Every minute counted.

“Have the housekeeper prepare a chamber for Miss Baverstock. She will need a roaring fire, hot bricks, warming pans and red flannel. Send the search party after me. I’m going to find a lantern and start looking.”

Outside every blade of grass, every twig, was coated with thick white frost. His throat ached from the cold and
he
was twice her weight and far more robust. If he was finding it hard to breathe, how could someone as frail and delicate as his beloved survive?

He hurtled around to the stable yard. He would saddle himself a sturdy horse because when he found her he would need to get her back as speedily as possible. He spied the stable bell, which was rung in dire emergencies. He grabbed the rope and swung it vigorously.

Two sleep-befuddled grooms tumbled down the outside staircase from the loft in which they slept. “Is there a fire, sir?”

“No, Miss Baverstock has been turned out of the house and is somewhere lost in this freezing night. Every moment we waste might prove crucial to her survival.”

Instantly, the two men straightened up and within a few minutes, they had provided him with a saddled horse, a thick blanket strapped behind the saddle. They were similarly mounted and, like him, also holding swinging lanterns. They were as grim and tight-lipped as he; he’d overheard their swearing as they gave vent to their feelings. Elizabeth was loved by all who knew her; these two were as eager to find her as he was.

He told them to ride on either side of the drive and he would take the middle path. He couldn’t see her footsteps. The dozens of carriages that had come and gone had all but obliterated the snow. Urging his horse into a trot, he peered from side to side, praying he would not see the dark heap of her body lying on the ground.

At the end of the drive, he glanced back over his shoulder to see Hartford Hall glowing in the dark. There would soon be more out to help with the search, but he would not wait for them. He would push on and pray he could find her first. He cantered down the narrow lane, but found no sign of her. Perhaps he was worrying unnecessarily and she had managed to reach the town.

“Tell me,” he called out to one of the grooms alongside him. “Where would she go to find shelter?”

Without hesitation, the young man replied. “The King’s Head, Sir James. It’s a substantial place, the mail coach leaves from there first thing every morning.”

He continued to scan the lane but saw nothing. She had been gone for almost two hours now. He was warmly dressed and had been out for less than twenty minutes, yet was already numb to his fingertips. He prayed Elizabeth had already reached the warmth and safety of the inn.

There were small cottages and barns on either side of the lane, then it twisted, and turned, and broadened, and he was in the town itself. “You take the lead; she must be there. By some miracle she has managed to complete the walk without mishap.”

The place was in darkness, but their lanterns were sufficient to guide them into the yard and to the main entrance. James vaulted from the saddle and hammered on the door. As he waited, he knew his hopes might well be misplaced. It would not have taken so long for someone to respond if Elizabeth had arrived before him. Eventually the door was pulled open and a rosy-cheeked fellow wearing a nightcap peered out.

“Landlord, have you taken in a young woman in the past hour? We have lost Miss Baverstock; she set out from Hartford Hall on foot almost two hours ago and we did not pass her on the road.”

The mention of Elizabeth’s name changed the man’s demeanour immediately. “She has not arrived here. God save her, sir, she must still be out there somewhere. I shall rouse my wife and prepare a chamber for her. If she is closer to us than Hartford Hall, bring her here.”

James felt a wave of misery engulf him. He had ridden past her. She must be lying somewhere in a ditch and he had not noticed. He scrambled back in the saddle and wrenched his horse around.

There must be a place he hadn’t looked. He kicked his horse into a wild gallop. Less than half a mile from the village, he saw what looked like a gap in the hedge. Why hadn’t he noticed this before? He threw himself to the ground and ran into the meadow entrance. At first, he saw nothing, then in the flickering light of his lantern he saw her at the base of the five barred gate. He dropped to her side and with shaking fingers placed them under her chin, feeling for a pulse. Thank God! She was still alive, but only just. He pushed one arm under her knees, the other around her shoulders and stood up. His throat tightened when he saw the angry bruise on her forehead.

The grooms arrived at his side. “Miss Baverstock must have fallen and struck her head. Small wonder we missed her — she was all but invisible in the shadows.”

“Here, let me help you, Sir James.” The man wrapped a thick blanket around his burden and whilst he remounted his companions held her. He leant down and she was handed up to him. He pulled his coat around her, hoping his body warmth might help to keep her alive until he could get her safe.

His willing mount responded magnificently, galloping as easily with a double burden as he had with one. The inn was ablaze with candlelight, the front door wide open, a plump woman, in pristine white apron and cap, waited in the flagstone entrance hall to receive him.

“I’ve sent for the doctor, sir. Bring Miss Baverstock upstairs if you please. You leave her to me and my girls; this won’t be the first time we’ve had to revive a traveller half frozen from the elements.”

James followed her into a substantial chamber, which was overpoweringly hot. Two maidservants were busily rubbing warming pans between the sheets of a huge tester bed.

“Put Miss Baverstock down on the bed, sir. You wait downstairs with Mr. Holding; he’ll find you a warm drink and something to eat. There’s nothing you can do here.”