Netherby Halls (21 page)

“Sophia, just what are we doing on the road to
Bristol?”

“He is leaving—I am sure of it. I must stop him. You
do see, don’t you?” cried Miss Delleson, waving her gloved hands
forward. “Drive—hurry! We must hurry.”

“See? No, I do not see,” said Sassy, nearly slowing
to a stop.

“I must go to him and explain, for he will never
approach me again. You do not know Percy. He is hurt and angry and
must think me the worst flirt—if he leaves, all will be lost.”

“Sophy—you cannot go to his lodgings! Is that what
you mean to do? ’Tis not done and will ruin you.”

“Not if you come with me,” Sophy said on a plea.

“Sophy, think of my position. I can’t go with you,”
Sassy exclaimed in shocked accents. “Are you mad?”

Sophy’s blurry eyes, wet with tears, pulled on
Sassy’s heartstrings. “Please, Sassy. I will go, and I know you
won’t let me do so alone. It will be seemly enough if we are
together.”

“Nothing will make it seemly. It will call down
disgrace on us both if we are seen going into their lodgings.”

“Perhaps,” Sophy said hopefully, “Percy will come
outside?”

“That would still entail standing at his front door
for all the world to see. Send him round a note. That should do,”
Sassy suggested.

“Please, Sassy, you must take me to Percy, and if you
do not, I shall jump off this carriage this very instant and walk
there!” Miss Delleson threatened with spirit.

Sassy was pleased to find that Sophy’s feelings were
so engaged but firmly shook her head with a smile. “No.”

“Sassy! How cruel! …”

“No,” said Sassy staunchly.

* * *

Sassy had meant to stand firm, truly she did, but
three things destroyed her resolve.

The first was her kind heart. Sophy’s distress was
genuine, and Sassy had no doubt her friend certainly meant to go to
Percy’s lodgings even if she had to walk. She could see Sophy’s
threat to do just that was completely genuine.

The second thing that moved her was Sophy’s argument
that the two of them visiting together, if they were even seen,
would be quite above board.

The third thing that added to Sassy’s downfall in the
argument was her own youth. She was young enough still to believe
that perhaps, in the end, it would all work out. What harm could
come of it if they were very discreet? And if there was a problem,
perhaps her magic could extricate them.

Thus, Sassy found herself driving her friend in the
general direction of Percy’s lodgings, though all the while her
better self, her respectable self, told her she was in the wrong of
it.

As it happened, Miss Delleson was not exactly sure
where Mr. Lutterel’s lodgings were situated. He had told her they
had leased a charming cottage on the Northfield Road, but she
wasn’t sure just where on the Northfield Road.

At long last, they came upon a cottage whose name,
Hastings, Sophy said she was sure Percy had mentioned. It was
greatly removed from other homes and town, and this gave Sassy some
relief, for at least they might not be seen.

Sassy pulled up to the house and then frowned. “What
shall I do with the horses and carriage? We can’t just leave them
on the open road.”

“No, but neither one of us should wait here with them
either … just pull into the courtyard where there is sure to
be a post we can tether them to. Then, as these evergreens are so
lovely and tall, we shan’t be seen at all.”

“Sophy, you are quite the little cunning thing,
aren’t you?” Sassy remarked with a short laugh.

“When I have to be,” Sophy answered, unabashed.

They waited at the front door, and it seemed an
interminable time before a male servant opened the front door.

The elderly man made no effort to hide his shock as
two young maids burst in on him, one demanding to be taken to Mr.
Lutterel.

Obviously torn with indecision, the butler finally
made that decision with a prim mouth and said, “You may not enter.
You must leave.”

“Leave? Nonsense—we have already entered. Now be good
enough to inform Mr. Lutterel that we desire an audience with him,”
Sassy said, putting up her chin. All she wanted to do was escape,
but she had to put on a front for the servant without giving away
their identities. Tricky.

Sophia turned an admiring glance to her friend and
said, “Well done, dear, well done.” She then turned to the butler.
Her voice a bit shrill from the danger and excitement of her
boldness, she said imperiously but politely, “Now, if you will be
so kind, you may bring Mr. Lutterel to us at once.”

Sassy still could not believe she had allowed herself
to become embroiled in this mess. She knew it was shocking
behavior. She knew, if caught, her life would no doubt be ruined.
What had moved her to do this? Sophy—she had felt Sophy and Percy
needed to see each other, and the dratted girl had convinced her
that he would leave.
Ah
, but was that the real reason?
You also knew the marquis would leave with Percy.
She
frowned this thought away.

“Good God!” exclaimed the marquis, stepping into the
hallway.

A darkling look came over his face, and his blue eyes
seemed to fill with anger.
Oh no
—he wasn’t pleased to see
her.

“That is all,” he said to the retainer; then in a
strange voice laced with magic Sassy knew only she could hear, he
added. “You will forget these young women. They were never
here.”

The elderly man nodded and walked away. Sassy was a
bit surprised that the marquis had used a spell right before her
eyes. She looked at Sophy, who hadn’t a clue.

He ignored Sophy and went to Sassy, towering over her
like a god, and asked, “How came you here?”

She attempted a smile, but it faded before completely
forming. His grim expression made it clear just how terrible a
thing she and Sophy had done.

“Miss Delleson’s curricle,” Sassy said quietly.

The marquis crossed the hall and pulled at a bell
rope. A lackey appeared, dressed in blue livery, and the marquis’s
voice came swift and hard. “Have my phaeton prepared and brought to
the courtyard, at once. And on your way, you will see a curricle
outside. Put it in the coach house, but in thirty minutes, fetch it
and bring it to Mr. Lutterel. Now hurry, lad.”

Sassy assumed the boy would have no memory of his
errands in the end. She watched him dart off and felt her elbow
taken by his lordship. He steered her across the hall, not
bothering to note whether or not Sophy followed, though Sassy
turned to look towards her friend.

Sassy gasped at such commandeering but could not find
the words to say. She allowed him the moment as he sat her upon a
hard-backed chair in the study. She took to studying the Oriental
rug at her feet, while Sophy stood fluttering her hands in the air
and looking as though she were about to faint at the sight of Mr.
Lutterel, who strode towards her, his face a mask of shock.

“Sophy,” he exclaimed. “
E
gad
,
Sophy!”

“Percy!” Sophy wailed, her hands outstretched towards
his chest. Once he was within reach, she caught the lapels of his
waistcoat and released a sob.

Sassy knew that in coming to a man’s lodgings they
were breaking a rule but had managed to convince herself that they
could get in and get out without any harm done. Now, it hit home
that the breaking of this particular rule carried with it serious
consequences if they were caught. Her gaze left the couple before
her and returned to the design of the rug. What had she done? What
could he think? She knew that to be found visiting a man’s lodgings
would unalterably condemn both hers and Sophy’s reputations
forever. She should have been the wise one; she should have done
something other than give in to Sophy. Her heart sank with her
gaze, and she had a moment where she felt as though she might just
faint. She had never in her life fainted, but the disapproval in
the marquis’s stern gaze, which she could see when she uplifted her
own for a moment, added a certain appeal to the idea of succumbing
to a case of the vapors.

“You will kindly tell us why you have you jeopardized
your reputation and blessed me with your presence, Miss
Winthrop.”

No longer did he call her Sassy
was her
reaction to his words. She felt shame rush through her mind, and
the heat of high emotion stilled the sharp retort she might have
given him under different circumstances. “Well,
I
did not
come to visit you, my lord,” she managed.

“Then why, Miss Winthrop, are you here?” the marquis
demanded.

Sassy did not wish to put the blame on Sophy and, in
truth, knew she could have remained steadfast and refused to come.
She could see out of the corner of her eye that Sophy had retired
to her handkerchief while Mr. Lutterel held her shoulders and told
her that she should not have come.

“Well … I-I …” stammered Sassy, at a
loss.

“You what, woman?” the marquis demanded
relentlessly.

“It was all my fault,” Sophy wailed suddenly when she
realized her friend was being seriously put to task. “I insisted
Miss Winthrop accompany me, and it has all been for naught.” She
turned to Mr. Lutterel. “You, sir, are a brute!”

“A brute? Me?” Percy appeared astounded, too much so
to say more.

“Yes, y-es … you are!” cried the distraught
lady, once again diving into her handkerchief.

The marquis’s oath was indistinguishable, which Sassy
guessed was just as well, as it was likely not something either
lady should have heard. He returned his blue-eyed gaze to Sassy,
his finger about to wag, but was interrupted by the arrival of his
lackey, to whom he said, “Ah, good.” He turned back to Sassy and
commanded, “Come along, quickly now.”

Sassy glanced towards Sophy and uttered, “But …
Sophia …?”

“Mr. Lutterel will see to Miss Delleson.
She
is none of my concern, but
you are!
” He waved his hand for
her to go before him and then took a moment to don his outer
garments.

Sassy was stunned by his statement and thrown into a
state of confusion. At her back, Percy and Sophy were making
mewling sounds to one another, and she, therefore, made no
objection as the marquis rushed her outside to his waiting team and
carriage.

As he helped her up, she turned and looked at him
feeling very shy but needing to mention, “I … ah … my
portmanteau is in the Delleson curricle.”

This elicited another oath before he sent the lackey
to fetch it from the coach house. During this short delay he did
not glance her way, and she kept her gaze averted in the
uncomfortable silence of the moment. She felt like a child. Here
she was, on her own, a tutor—supposed to set a good example—and
what had she done? Oh, but she could not believe it. After all, she
was one and twenty! A veritable ‘old maid’ who should not have
romantic notions and allow one’s friend to talk her into something
she knew at the outset was wrong.

The marquis hoisted her up onto the seat of his neat
vehicle. He dismissed his waiting tiger and jumped expertly up to
take a seat beside her, moving the phaeton in the direction of the
main road, while Sassy wondered mildly whither they were bound.

He was in a temper, something she had not really
experienced from him before. Perhaps the best thing to do under the
circumstances was to sit very still and not offer his wrath any
further fuel. However, she asked herself, why he should be so angry
with her? After all, what had this to do with him?

“I could wring that little fool’s neck!” he exclaimed
suddenly. “How she managed to convince you, with your normally
level head, to fall in with her wild scheme has me fairly baffled.
I thought you did not have a want of sense, ma’am!”

“I have also never thought I wanted sense,” she
agreed, trying to maintain an even temper. “Do people with sense
never err?”

He pulled on the strings and the horses slowed to a
stop. Turning to face her, he sighed, put out his gloved hand, and
took her chin to lift her face to his. Their eyes met, and she
thought in that moment she was going to err again and fling herself
into his arms. She loved him. With all her heart, she loved him,
and the sudden admission to herself was as though a rosebud inside
her had burst open all at once.

“Freely, you admit your mistake? You are a marvel,
Miss Winthrop for I do not think I have ever encountered a
woman who would do so.” He shook his head, but clearly his temper
had abated as he said softly, “Tell me, do … just what did you
think you were doing—furthering the course of true love? A very
silly notion, my sweet. You must certainly never do such a thing
again.”

She was in love with a rake, a libertine, a man who
went from woman to woman, a marquis whose station was quite above
that of a tutor—a vicar’s daughter. These thoughts, not his words,
occupied her mind as he spoke. Somehow, though, his meaning
filtered through, and she said, “Er … yes … you are quite
right. I shan’t do such a thing again, but you are being very
solicitous, my lord.”

He hurriedly stuck in, giving her a naughty grin she
found irresistible, “Am I? Yes, to be sure I am.”

“But you have insinuated that I might agree to be
your … your … to …”

“What are you trying to say?”

“’Tis a contradiction to protect me from gossip and
yet try and set me up as your … light o’love.” There, she
thought, she had said it.

He picked up the reins and urged his horses forward,
throwing her a sideways glance as he said quietly, “Perhaps, my
sweet Sassy, perhaps my intentions toward you have undergone an
alteration, and that is not what I wish at all.”

His words silenced Sassy; her mind went into a
stupor. She stared at his handsome profile, completely confounded
by this calculated and meaningful statement. She had nothing to
offer in response and felt herself blush.