Promise Me Tomorrow (31 page)

Clearly he would enter the inn once he had transacted his business with the blacksmith, and Marianne wondered how she would manage to avoid him until the mail coach arrived. She watched as he walked away with the ostler to the blacksmith’s, leading his horse.

Marianne slipped out the front door and ran across the yard. She stopped at the gate and peered cautiously out. The ostler and the rider were disappearing into the shop next door. Marianne let out a sigh of relief and started down the street in the opposite direction. She had not gone twenty steps when she heard a voice raised behind her.

“Wait! Stop!”

She whirled around and saw the man, now standing in the doorway of the blacksmith’s, looking at her. She whipped back around and set off at a rapid pace. Behind her, the man shouted out her name. “Mrs. Cotterwood! Stop!”

She heard his footsteps running after her, and Marianne picked up her skirts and broke into a run. She darted up the street and ducked into an alleyway. She was going to run through it to the street beyond, but then she saw a stout plank of wood lying discarded on the ground, so she swooped down and picked it up. Stationing herself at the entry to the alley, she waited, listening to the man’s running footsteps. He slowed and turned into the alley, and Marianne swung the board with all her might, catching him square in the stomach and knocking the air out of him.

He doubled over, gasped for air and staggered back out into the street. Marianne raised the board and brought it down again. She had meant to strike him in the head, but at the last second she could not bear to do that and she pulled back, hitting him in the back and sending him sprawling to the ground. She looked up and saw a man in a landau a few yards away. He had stopped his vehicle and was watching her with interest. His eyebrows shot up as he recognized her.

“Mrs. Cotterwood!”

“Lord Exmoor!” Marianne did not like the man, but at the moment he looked like a godsend. Jumping over the man she had hit, she ran toward the landau. “Can you help me?”

“Mrs. Cotterwood, every time I see you, someone is attacking you. You lead a highly unusual life.”

“This isn’t how it is normally, I assure you,” Marianne answered breathlessly, reaching up a hand. “Will you help me?”

“Certainly.” He reached down and took her hand, helping her up onto the seat beside him. “I take it you need to get away from that man. Shall I take you back to Buckminster?”

“No!” Marianne cast a panicked look over at the man, who was now staggering to his feet and coming after her. “Oh, dear. I was going to take the mail coach back to London. But now I can’t. Not with him here.”

“That does present a problem,” Exmoor agreed. “I tell you what. I shall drive you to Exeter myself. You can catch a coach more easily there, anyway.”

“Would you?” Marianne looked at him hopefully. She did not relish being alone with this man for several hours, but she had to get away from her pursuer—and she was determined not to return to Justin.

“Of course. I am always happy to help a lady in distress.” Exmoor gave her a cold smile and slapped the reins. The horses set off smartly.

They were driving straight toward her pursuer. Exmoor slapped the reins again, and the horses broke into a run. The other man waved his arms, shouting at them to stop, but he jumped out of the way at the last minute, and the landau whipped past him.

Marianne twisted around in the seat. The man clambered to his feet and lumbered after them, shouting and cursing and shaking his fist. It was, of course, a pointless effort, for they soon outstripped him. Marianne turned back around, and Exmoor’s vehicle rolled through the village and onto the road to Exeter.

T
HEY BOWLED ALONG FOR SOME MINUTES
in silence before the Earl slowed the horses. Exmoor cast a sideways glance at his companion.

“Who was that fellow?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Marianne admitted.

The Earl raised an eyebrow. “Then why was he chasing you?”

“I don’t know that, either.” Marianne sighed. “My life has gotten…very strange lately.”

“I have to agree. Two mysterious attacks in the course of two days would seem somewhat abnormal.”

“I know. But truthfully, I have no idea why either of them was after me. I presume they were somehow connected, but I don’t know how. Nor do I know why anyone would want to kill me.” She looked at him. “Do you believe me?”

Exmoor shrugged. “Yes. Why would you think I don’t?”

“I don’t know. I felt last night that everyone must think I knew something and just wasn’t revealing it.”

“Perhaps you know something and don’t realize it yet. Had you thought of that?”

“Or perhaps they think I know something when I do not. I think…I think it might have something to do with my childhood.”

His hands tightened on the reins. “Indeed? Why do you think that?”

“Because that is the main area of my life that I know nothing about. And that man back there—he was searching for me earlier.”

“Was he?”

Marianne nodded. “Yes. He went to where I lived when I was young. So I thought it must have something to do with that time in my life. I can remember almost nothing before I was seven or eight.”

“Have you tried to remember? Tried casting your mind back to that time, dredging up any lurking memory?”

“Oh, yes, many times. And not just since this trouble started. For years I have wished I could remember when I was a little girl. But it is all very murky.”

“I see.” After a moment, he went on, “Was Mr. Fuquay someone you knew as a child?”

Marianne shook her head. “If he was, I don’t remember him. He never seemed familiar to me. It is all so senseless. I suppose we shall never know.”

“Mmm. I suppose not.” He paused, then asked, “Was your friend back there the reason you are running off to London?”

“I’m not running,” Marianne protested automatically. Exmoor quirked an eyebrow without saying anything. Marianne sighed. “All right, yes, I am running, but not from him. I didn’t even see him until I reached the inn to catch the mail coach. I—it just seemed better not to stay any longer.”

“Because of the incident yesterday with Mr. Fuquay.”

Marianne nodded. That seemed as good an excuse as any, she thought. She had no desire to reveal the real reason.

“What will you do when you get to London?”

“I’m not sure. I—I have been thinking of moving.”

“Indeed? Why?”

“I have a daughter.” Marianne smiled as she thought of Rosalind. “Sometimes I think it would be better for her to grow up somewhere else. Somewhere smaller. And the appeal of the Season has began to pall.”

“Perhaps you could return to your parents,” Exmoor suggested.

Marianne shook her head. “No. They are both dead.”

“I am sorry to hear that.”

The conversation lapsed after that, and they rolled along in silence. Marianne’s head ached from crying and from lack of sleep, and she felt quite miserable. Even the prospect of seeing her daughter again did little to cheer her up.

The landau came to a stop, and Marianne’s head snapped up. She realized that she had actually dozed off. She blinked and glanced around her. “Why are we stopping?”

The Earl glanced at her. “I was thinking of turning off onto this road.” He pointed toward a lane that branched off from the main road. “It is, I believe, a shortcut to Exeter.”

Marianne looked down the peaceful lane. Hedges grew on both sides of the road, and trees arched over it, creating a dappled shade. It was a lovely and secluded spot, but it scarcely looked to be a road that led much of anywhere, let alone a major town.

“It is?” she asked somewhat doubtfully.

Exmoor chuckled. “Yes. I know it looks like any country lane, but it intersects with a larger road.”

Marianne felt strangely uneasy. There was an odd, considering look in Exmoor’s eyes as he watched her. She straightened.

“Actually, you do not need to drive me all the way to Exeter,” she told him. “I have put you to far too much trouble as it is. I am sure that I would be able to catch the mail coach from a nearer village.”

He started to answer her, but the sound of hooves on the road behind them caught his attention, and he turned to look. Marianne twisted around in her seat, also. A man on horseback was approaching them, and as they caught sight of him, he kicked his mount into a run. Marianne’s heart leaped in her chest. The rider thundering down upon them was Justin.

He pulled to a halt beside them. He was scowling and without hat or coat. Marianne noticed that a pistol was stuck into his belt.

“What the devil do you think you’re doing, Exmoor?” Justin growled. “Adding abducting young ladies to your bag of tricks?”

“My dear Lambeth,” Exmoor replied smoothly, “you wound me. I was, in fact, rescuing Mrs. Cotterwood.”

“Rescuing!”

“Yes, he was, actually,” Marianne put in. “A man was chasing me, and Lord Exmoor helped me get away.”

“Good God, Marianne! The minute my back is turned you are running off and being chased or thrown into mines or some other improbable thing.” He swung down off his horse and came around to Marianne’s side of the landau. “Get down, Marianne. I am taking you back.”

“I don’t want to go back. You cannot make me.”

Justin drew his brows together. “Damnation! Am I so fearsome that you must sneak out of the house in the middle of the night to avoid marrying me? All you had to do was refuse my proposal. I will not force you to the altar.”

“You know it was not like that!” Marianne retorted hotly.

“I know nothing of the kind. All I know is that I was awakened early by some sort of fuss downstairs, and when I asked about you, Lady Buckminster told me that you had left before dawn! What else would you call that?”

“I left a letter for you. I told the maid to give it to you later.”

“Well, it is sooner, and I want an explanation from you. I will not keep you if you want to go, but first, blast it, you will talk to me and tell me why you refuse me.” He turned to glare at the man beside her on the seat. “I don’t need your presence, Exmoor.”

“I confess I do feel a trifle
de trop,
” the Earl commented dryly. “However, I cannot desert Mrs. Cotterwood.”

“No, go,” Marianne said. “Justin is right. I owe him an explanation. And it would be beyond enough to embroil you in this.” She held out her hand to Exmoor. “Thank you for your help, and I apologize for putting you to so much trouble and wasting your time.”

“I am always glad to help a lady in distress, madam,” Exmoor replied, taking her hand. “But of course I would not wish to intrude on your privacy. If you are quite sure that it is what you want, I will leave you with Lord Lambeth.” He raised his eyebrows in mute question.

“Yes, thank you, I think that would be best.”

Exmoor tipped his hat to her, and Marianne climbed down from the landau. With some delicate maneuvering of the vehicle, he turned it around without landing in the ditch on either side and started back in the direction from which he had come. Marianne turned to face Justin.

“All right,” he said. “Tell me why you ran away from me.”

“I wasn’t running away from you. I just saw that it would be best all around if I disappeared. Cecilia would not look for information to discredit me and make you a laughingstock. You would not have to marry me.”

“I do not
have
to marry you,” Justin pointed out sharply. “I
chose
to. Obviously, however, I forgot to ask if
you
wished to marry
me.
”

“It is not a matter of not wanting to marry you. Of course I want to.”

“Indeed. Your behavior is scarcely that of an eager fiancée.”

“I did not want to have to argue with you!” Marianne snapped back. “I tried to tell you last night why we could not marry, and you wouldn’t listen. It will ruin you! Your family will be furious. Everyone has told me how proud they are, how proud you are. What will happen to that pride when everyone finds out that you have married a girl who not only cannot trace her lineage back eight generations, but doesn’t even know who her parents are?”

“Do you think I care about what my parents say? I will marry to please me, not to please them. And I don’t give a damn about your parents—or eight generations of ancestors, either.”

“You once did. You told me that marriage for you was a business proposition, that you would someday marry someone of proper lineage like Cecilia and produce an heir, as was your duty.”

“Bloody hell! Don’t throw my words back up at me!” Justin’s hand lashed out and grasped her arm. “I am well aware of the sort of idiotic things I have said in the past. But I had never been in love then. I did not realize what it would be like to live without it. But I understand that now, and I will be damned if I shall cut myself off from the woman I love to please my family or Society.”

Marianne stared at him, the blood draining out of her face. She felt suddenly light-headed. “The woman you love?”

“Yes. Of course. Why else would I ask you to marry me?”

“Why, to save my reputation. You said that when you heard Cecilia, you realized that you didn’t want people gossiping about me, that you—”

Justin let out an oath. “Of course I did not want people gossiping about you. I love you far too much for that. I don’t want you for my mistress. I don’t want to spend only stolen hours with you. I want to live with you. I want to be with you all the time, to dance with you at balls—every damn dance, if I want, to wake up in the morning and see your face. I want to look at my children and see you in them. I want to watch your belly grow round and know that it is my seed inside you. I don’t want a dalliance. I want to marry you.”

Marianne swayed on her feet. “You—you did not say then that you loved me.”

“Good Lord, don’t faint on me now,” Justin commented, wrapping one arm around her to hold her up. “I would look like a right ogre.”

He swept her up in his arms and carried her across the road to a low stone wall. He set her down on the wall and went down on one knee in front of her. Taking her hand, he looked into her dazed blue eyes. “Of course I love you, you goose. And I refuse to suffer the rest of my life without you for the sake of pride or family or anything else. The only way you can get rid of me is to tell me that you do not love me.”

Tears filled Marianne’s eyes, and she let out a watery little chuckle. “You know I cannot do that. I love you more than anything.”

“Good. Then will you marry me? And promise not to run away again?”

“Yes.” Marianne’s smile was sunny. “I will marry you, and I shan’t ever run away!”

She threw her arms around his neck, and he kissed her. They stayed on the low stone wall for a few more minutes, kissing and murmuring sweet words of love, until the sound of a cart down the road recalled them to their surroundings.

“I suppose we had better return to Buckminster,” Justin said with some reluctance. “Though how we are to explain this latest escapade, I don’t know.”

Marianne giggled. “We shall say I was terrified by my experience last night.”

“So terrified that you neglected to inform your future husband that you were leaving this morning?”

“I was hysterical.”

“Mmm.” Justin cocked an eyebrow. “I think we will have to come up with something better than that.”

He helped Marianne up onto his horse and mounted behind her. Taking up the reins, he commented, “I am getting quite used to traveling this way. Perhaps I won’t even buy you a mount. You can just ride pillion with me.”

They started down the road at a slow pace, nodding at the driver of the farm cart as if nothing was unusual about their mode of conveyance. They talked and laughed and spun silly stories to explain Marianne’s bolting from the house that morning.

After a while, Justin spotted a figure riding toward them in the distance. It resolved into a rather rotund rider on a shabby mount, plodding determinedly toward them. “I say. It’s that fellow,” Justin said, nodding toward the rider. “The one who told me which way you had gone.”

“What?” Marianne, who had been leaning against Justin with her head on his chest, now straightened and turned to look forward. “Who?” Her eyes narrowed. “But that’s the man! The one who chased me!”

“What? What are you talking about?
He
chased you?”

“Yes. Lord Exmoor helped me get away from him. It was that man!” She explained about seeing him at the inn that morning and recognizing him, about fleeing from him and his giving chase—until she laid him out with a plank and escaped to Exmoor’s vehicle.

Justin began to chuckle, and Marianne fixed him with a cool stare.