Quiet Meg (23 page)

“You mean to fight him.”

“I
do”

Meg slid toward him across the seat.

“Do not” She reached to touch his broadcloth cloak.
“Let us go away from here. Now-tonight! He will not follow the both of us. We might go anywhere-the Continent,
the West Indies …”

“I have wandered too much,” he said. He stared at her
gloved hand on his cloak. “And it is not what you choose”

“But it is what I choose! I choose it now, freely, before
we are wed, before you confront him-while there is still
choice!” She edged closer to him, so that her skirts brushed
one of his boots, and spread her fingers upon his knee.
“Will you not take me away?”

She was close enough now to see his face more clearly.
Given the passion of her plea his expression was frustratingly blank. And his dark eyes were hooded.

“Mere minutes ago you were fleeing to Sutcliffe”

“I know. But you do not understand. I did that because …
because..

“Yes? Because you simply tired of telling him no? Because you wish to be a countess? Because you preferred his
bonbons to my violets? Dieu m’en garde!”

“Oh please … stop .. ” Meg covered her face with her
hands.

In the silence she tried to steady her breathing, then
Cabot asked again, “What did he promise you?” This time
his voice broke. “What could it possibly have been?”

“He promised to spare you. He promised me your life.”

In the instant quiet, Meg heard the rain begin in earnest on
the carriage roof. The horses were slowing, the coachman
called to them as the wheels stopped. Cabot moved closer, directly across from her, and gently pulled her hands from her
cheeks. They sat knee to knee as she looked up into his eyes.

When Lord Hayden opened the door, both of them
glanced to the side.

“Wait!” Cabot said, and his hold on her hands tightened.

“We were followed, Chas,” Hayden said. Rain dripped
from the brim of his hat. “Two men. One’s remained here
across the road. There’s little time.”

Cabot sighed and released her hands. He stepped out
into the damp. Meg rose to follow him. Instead of simply
taking her hand he clasped her at the waist and swung her
completely clear of the puddled street. One arm remained
possessively about her. Meg watched Annie and Major
Trent entering a stone house set back amid some trees.

Hayden handed Cabot an umbrella, which he carried as
he walked her to the front of the house. Inside, in the modest hallway, he pulled her urgently to the side.

“One minute,” he told Hayden. “Just one minute.”

Hayden shook his head, but turned into a parlor, where
Meg could see Annie, the major, and two gentlemen in collars. Then Cabot blocked her view. He stood so close she
caught the scent of his cloak’s damp wool.

“Sutcliffe bargained my life for your compliance?”

Meg nodded as she held his gaze.

“He would not have kept his promise,” he said. “Even
had he tried, which I sincerely doubt, I would not have let
him keep it. Not at that price.” He took one of her hands,
and raised it to his lips. Even through her glove his kiss was
warm. Meg’s other hand sought his chest. She wanted simply to cling to him.

“It seems to be my habit,” he added softly, “to misuse
what little time I have with you. Forgive me, Meg. But we
must do this now. At once”

“Why?”

“Because it is the only way to protect you. Because it
draws another line that Sutcliffe might hesitate to crosswhether I am to hand or not. Marriage works to the advantage of both of us, and distinctly to his detriment.”

“How does it work-to your advantage?”

Cabot smiled down at her.

“When I meet him-he shall know it.”

“You must meet him?”

“If he calls me out. And he will.”

“I cannot bear it.”

Again he kissed her hand.

“I shall survive it. You must expect me to. But now we
must hurry.” He turned to glance at the others, talking
softly in the further room.

“Is it … is it real?” Meg asked, following his gaze.
They were clergymen, but this was not a church.

Again he smiled.

“You must ask the rector here. I believe he is properly
ordained. If not, I shall happily repeat myself.”

Meg drew breath.

“You must know…”

“Chas,” Hayden said sharply from the doorway. There
was little of the aloof marquis in his manner at the moment.

“Yes” Cabot again slid an arm about her waist. Meg
reached up to remove her bonnet as they walked into the
parlor. She focused only on the arm at her waist and the
kindly features of the rector.

“Are we ready, then?” he asked.

Even as Meg nodded he began to speak. Meg heard
something less than words-something like a soothing incantation. She heard the rain spattering against the windows; she was aware that Annie stood at her side. She
heard what sounded like ten names for Cabot before she
was asked to say “I do” She knew he raised her hand and
pulled off her glove. He slid a ring on to her finger. It was
heavy and unfamiliar. She glanced at it briefly before
Cabot kissed her even more briefly, just to the side of her
lips. Then Annie took her bonnet from her numb hands.

“Miss Meg,” she said. “Please remove your cloak. I must
change with you.”

Meg obeyed, fumbling with the clasp at her throat before shedding the soft blue wool. She exchanged it for Annie’s gray homespun and chip straw bonnet. Meg hastily
signed the license and register: Margaret Rowe Lawrence.

Cabot led her back into the hall, but took her toward the
rear of the small house. He kept that reassuring arm about
her waist.

“You’ll be going to my grandmother’s, with one of her
men-Alphonse, just here” He nodded to a sturdy gentleman outside, mounted on an equally sturdy brown horse. Alphonse held the reins for another saddled giant. “Grandmere expects you. She lives some miles away. You must
hurry.”

“But I thought we would be … That I would be going
with you”

“Not just now. We must lead Sutcliffe from you. And I
must know you are safe”

“When will you come for me?”

At that he paused, long enough for her to lose heart.

“Perhaps tomorrow. I shall send word if I’m delayed.”

Her vision was blurring.

“Shall I now call you Chas-as your cousin does?”

The question seemed to hurt him. He sighed deeply as
he tilted her chin with his free hand. This time his mouth
met hers, fully and hungrily. She knew why he had not
kissed her before. When he raised his head, she opened her
eyes. She knew her gaze accused him. He could not leave
her now; he should not leave her now. Not after this.

But he turned from her. As he strode back into the hall
he signaled his cousin David, who moved with alacrity to
take Meg out to the waiting horseman. The major gave her
a hand to help her mount.

“Do not worry, miss-ma’am,” he amended with a
smile. Touching his hat he returned quickly to the tiny
stone house. And Meg followed Alphonse in the rain.

“So that was Meg Lawrence,” David said. “And I
thought I had sobered up.”

The silent group in the carriage eyed him tolerantly.

“It makes no difference,” Hayden advised him languidly.
“She is as she is.”

Chas closed his eyes as he leaned his head back against
the upholstery. There was much to be endured, yet he felt
he had done enough. He would not soon forget the way she
had looked at him. He had needed all his discipline to
leave her.

Hayden knocked twice on the carriage roof, and received
one knock in return.

“We are pursued,” he said. “Still one rider.”

Chas looked at Annie, sitting to his side in Meg’s blue
cloak.

“Annie, we are returning you to Sir Eustace and Lady
Billings. You must stay there tonight. We want Lord Sutcliffe to believe your mistress is at home with her family.”
He pulled a note from his waistcoat. “Please deliver this to
Sir Eustace. It explains all-that I have married Meg and
that she stays tonight with the Dowager Duchess of
Braughton. Did Alphonse collect her things?”

When David nodded from the seat opposite, Chas again
leant back. There had been much to plan today. He prayed
Meg would safely reach his grandmere, who had promised to send word to him at White’s should Meg fail to arrive. If all went well, Chas would hear nothing. They hoped
thus to limit the number of messengers who might be intercepted and quizzed.

“Sir-Mr. Cabot,” Annie said. “Mr. Cabot, I don’t rightly
know what to do with this.” She held out a letter addressed
in a clear, elegant hand. “Miss Meg asked me to get it to
you after she’d gone, once she’d gone to him. I guess it’d
be yours now anyways.”

Chas accepted the note carefully, as though it were a
talisman.

“Thank you, Annie.” He kept it in his hand. Had she explained, in writing, what she had so reluctantly revealed in
person? He doubted it.

His thumb passed repeatedly over the paper as they traveled in silence back to Lady Billings’. The rain had stopped,
but the chill had grown. It would be a cold night and, Chas
realized, a cold morning.

Before Annie moved to leave the carriage, Chas
stopped her.

“Annie, I must ask you not to speak of this to the household.”

“I won’t, sir.”

“And if you would, find Mr. Bertram and send him out to
us, or send someone to tell us where he is to be found.”

“Very good, sir.”

Hayden helped her out of the carriage, showing her the
courtesies he would have shown were she indeed Meg,
such that the footman’s mouth was agape as Annie swept
up the steps to the door.

Chas had the carriage lanterns lit as they waited for word
of Bertram. He broke open Meg’s letter and quickly read it.

“Sir.” A footman knocked at the side of the carriage. “I
am to tell you Mr. Bertram is dining out with a friend. Do
you wish to send a message to him?”

“Ask him to meet Lord Hayden’s party at White’s as
soon as he is able. That is all.”

The footman bowed. As the carriage started up Charles
glanced at Meg’s letter again. `I thought I would have more
time to make amends.’ He leaned his head back against the
seat once more, and looked across at his cousins. They
were observing him with matching, blue-eyed concern.

“I’ve been unmanned,” he noted ruefully, slowly folding
Meg’s note and pocketing it.

“I should think you would be the opposite,” Hayden
drawled.

“In the poetic sense only, Hayden” He glanced out the
window. “If there were more time …”

“Second thoughts, Chas?” he asked.

“No-there was no other course” Chas glanced briefly
at him. “This would have happened one way or another.”
Again he sought the view outside. “Although this business
of ricocheting about in a carriage all evening leaves much
to be desired. I could do with a good night’s sleep.”

“Did she explain-why she went to him?”

“A small mistake in judgment. She thought Sutcliffe
could be trusted” Hayden looked his disbelief as Chas
wearily passed a hand across his forehead. “All she had to
do was nothing,” he added on a sigh.

“An impossibility, Chas-for a woman”

“When did you become such an authority on the ladies,
Hayden? Come to think of it-you were alert to Lucy and
Harry early on as well.”

“I’ve simply been observin’,” Hayden said. He glanced
at his brother, who had spoken only the once. “Haven’t you
recovered yet?”

“I shall never recover,” David said. “To find my angelonly to have her appropriated by my cousin-and my little
cousin at that!”

“‘Tis all in the family,” Hayden said lightly.

“I am not so little anymore, David,” Chas said. “In fact,
I believe I have a good inch on you”

David’s glance dismissed the possibility.

“I think I shall have to beat you, Chas”

“You are welcome to try. Given my present condition,
Hayden would probably grant you the odds.” They had at
last pulled up in St. James’s. “Speaking of which, what are
the odds running now?”

“Eight to one-Sutcliffe’s favor,” Hayden said promptly,
following him out of the carriage.

“And have you made your wager?”

Hayden smiled.

“I cannot reveal my methods”

“You are the devil, Hayden”

“Not quite. Though I know you expect to encounter him
here tonight.” They shared a meaning look, then Hayden
led the way into his club.

It was still early, but the inclement weather had brought
many indoors. Despite the crowd, the Marquis of Hayden
commanded his usual corner table. They were soon out of
their wet cloaks and hats, supplied with wine and some approximation of dinner, and once joined by Hayden’s friend
Demarest, played privately and contentedly at whist. The
normality of the pursuit restored Chas to some semblance
of balance. He did notice that a bemused David appeared
to be looking everywhere other than at his cards.

“You would be doin’ us a favor, major,” Hayden said
mildly, “were you to pay more attention to your hand.”

“I can see nothing before me but an angel’s face”

Hayden glanced to Chas, who was trying to concentrate
on the game, then looked back in frustration to his brother.

“Either play or leave,” he said coldly. “But stop bawling.”

The reprimand brought David up short. Chas suspected
his cousin was still not quite to rights, a situation that owed
less to meeting Meg than to a week of celebrating.

“I would be glad of your company, David, if you can forgive me,” Chas told him. “She might soon enough be available.”

David looked stricken. Mumbling an apology, he rose
and surrendered his cards to an eagerly waiting George
Gillen.

“I shall just take a turn,” David said, and Chas occasionally glimpsed his regimentals as he circulated the rooms.

Chas knew he was not playing well; he was too aware of
the other activity in the club. Any unusual noise set him on
edge. But at least no message had come from his grandmere; Meg had reached her house in safety.