The Resolute Runaway

Home > Other > The Resolute Runaway > Page 2
The Resolute Runaway Page 2

by Charlotte Louise Dolan


  “I didn’t mean to scare you, Miss Joanna, but I heard what happened. We all heard what happened. Such a to-do after you left, you can’t imagine. Mr. Alderthorpe threw a bottle of his best brandy at old Hagers and almost beaned him on his noggin, and your aunt—Mrs. Alderthorpe, I should say—was taken with convulsions, and it took Hagers and Joseph and John Coachman to carry her up to her room. It was more entertaining than a raree-show, and I sorely hated to miss out on it, but I couldn’t waste my chance to sneak away whilst no one was watching me. I packed up all your things and brung them to you.”

  “Oh, Nan, you are a true friend.” Joanna flung her arms around the scullery maid’s shoulders and gave her a hug.

  “Oh, no, miss, I couldn’t never be a friend to someone as fine as you, but I’m not one to forget a kindness done, neither, and you’ve been the only one in that house what had a kind word and a smile for me, so I thought it only fitting that I should fetch your things for you. It ain’t proper that you shouldn’t have your papa’s medals and the picture of your beautiful mama.” Nan thrust a shawl-wrapped parcel into Joanna’s hands. “But I’d best be getting back now, afore I’m missed. You’re going to Riverside, I s’pose.”

  “Yes, but we are leaving at once for Belgium. My brother is in Brussels, and I will be joining him there.”

  “Ah, well, and that’s probably all for the best, then.” Nan turned away and hurried down the road, and though Joanna watched, the other girl did not look back and wave good-bye.

  Once again Joanna was alone, but at least she had her nightshift and a change of clothing with her. In a more cheerful frame of mind, she walked as quickly as possible, reminding herself that she’d had years of practice at being agreeable, and Belinda could not possibly be as hard to suit as Aunt Zerelda was.

  * * * *

  “Joanna! I have asked you three times now what you think of this gold shawl. I wish you would pay better attention, or we will never get finished with our shopping.”

  “I am truly sorry, Belinda. I was thinking about my brother. Do you suppose we could stop by his quarters on our way back to the hotel? I have learned his direction.”

  Belinda grimaced, then adjusted her smile. “I am afraid we could not possibly do that today, else I shall not have time to rest for the ball the Craigmonts are giving this evening. Now, pray tell me what you think of this shawl. It is such a bargain, barely half what one would expect to pay in London. I declare, my idea for us to come to Brussels has turned out even better than I had anticipated.”

  With difficulty Joanna focused her attention on the article her friend was displaying for her inspection. “It looks exactly like the gold one you already have,” she said finally, having long ago run out of flattering compliments for Belinda’s superb taste in folderols.

  “No, no, mine has fringe that is rather too short, whereas this one has quite a long fringe, which is tied in the most cunning manner.” Belinda draped the shawl about her shoulders and turned this way and that, impatiently awaiting Joanna’s approval.

  Joanna dutifully managed to work up a proper admiration for the shawl. “It does look most becoming on you.” At least she was not expected to carry the parcels Belinda had spent the last three hours acquiring. A footman following at a respectful distance did that.

  And Belinda was not the least bit mean, Joanna had to give her that credit. No one could deny that Belinda was generous—but only when it was convenient to her. She was not one to put herself out to help another, and in her own way, Belinda was proving to be as inflexible as Aunt Zerelda. They had been in Brussels three days now—three whole days. And Belinda had still not found the time to accompany her to see Mark, nor had Belinda been willing to let her go by herself.

  No, Joanna must rest when Belinda was tired, eat when Belinda was hungry, and most of all, spend hours each day dancing attendance on Belinda—admiring each outfit she tried on when she was deciding what to wear, praising each of Belinda’s choices when they went shopping ... and shopping ... and shopping.

  The only time Joanna had to herself was when Belinda and her parents were out for the evening, and Joanna could not—she simply could not—wander around Brussels alone at night trying to find her brother.

  “Perhaps we could send a footman with a note?” she said out loud.

  “Whatever are you talking about?”

  Joanna realized Belinda was staring at her in complete astonishment. “My brother. Perhaps we could send a footman with a note to let him know I am here, and then he could visit me in our hotel.”

  Belinda broke into a peal of laughter, which had the heads of various young officers turning in her direction, a fact which Joanna knew her friend was well aware of. “Oh, my dear, you are too droll. I asked you if you thought these ribbons would do for my copper sarcenet, and you started talking about your brother again. Really, my dear, you are becoming too tedious.”

  Her smile should have taken the sting out of her words, but there had been so many little cutting remarks, and the smiles were no longer enough to prevent Joanna from feeling the sharp edge of Belinda’s tongue.

  * * * *

  “She is beautiful, I will give you that. But what chance do you have with the chit? Her father is rich as Croesus, and her mother is connected to all the best families. Every officer I know is already scrambling to get an introduction to her.”

  Nicholas Goldsborough clapped his hand on his friend’s shoulder, but his attention stayed focused on the vision of delight, who had just emerged from the milliner’s shop. “Ah, but I have succeeded where others have failed. The Craigmonts introduced me to her last evening, and I even secured a waltz with the young lady. She dances like a dream, by the way, but be warned, if you attempt to cut me out, I shall definitely send my seconds to call on yours.”

  “Does this mean you refuse to introduce me?”

  “No, no, I shall be happy to do the honors, but kindly keep in mind that your job is to distract the companion so that I may have a few minutes to converse alone with the beautiful Belinda.”

  “Her companion? I had not noticed ... Good God!”

  Nicholas pulled his gaze away from his adored one long enough to see his friend was white as a sheet. “What’s wrong?”

  But Mark was already moving toward the two young ladies. To Nicholas’s surprise, he ignored the incomparable Miss Dillon and went directly to the dowdy little miss standing behind her.

  She was not at all in his friend’s usual style, Nicholas thought as he followed. Several inches shorter than the incomparable Miss Dillon, the girl had black hair, which was scraped back into a knot at her nape, her dress was a faded brown and obviously designed for someone considerably larger, and her complexion was sallow, almost jaundiced. All in all, Nicholas could see nothing about her to attract his friend’s discerning eye, but there was no doubt that Mark was so overcome he could not even speak.

  As inexplicable as his friend’s behavior was, Nicholas was not prepared to waste this opportunity. “Good afternoon, Miss Dillon. I am pleased to have this opportunity to renew my acquaintance.”

  “Captain ... Captain ...”

  “Goldsborough,” he said smoothly. “A friend of the Craigmonts’.”

  “Ah, yes, we danced the waltz. How could I have forgotten?” Belinda smiled at him, and her dimples peeked out, and Nicholas felt himself falling deeper under her spell.

  * * * *

  Joanna was ready to die of embarrassment, and all Belinda could do was flirt with the flaxen-haired officer. Why could she not also bat her eyelashes in the direction of the black-haired captain who was staring at Joanna as if she had grown a second head? She could feel herself blushing at the unexpected and unwelcome attention.

  “Joanna?”

  The stranger’s low voice caused her to look up directly at his face for the first time. His shoulders had broadened, and he wore a dashing mustache, but his eyes—his eyes were exactly as she remembered them.

  “Mark ... oh, Mark...” Sh
e cast herself into her brother’s arms and felt herself safe for the first time since she had run away from her uncle’s house.

  Chapter 2

  Joanna could not understand Belinda’s delight in having scores of suitors. Not that there was actually a score of men clustering around Belinda, nor even a round dozen. Today Joanna could count only nine men vying for her friend’s attention and impeding what should have been a pleasant promenade along the ramparts above the park.

  The fact that they were all treating Joanna as if she were invisible bothered her not a whit. Standing a few feet away from the circle of men at present surrounding her friend, Joanna used the opportunity to evaluate them with a critical eye, which would doubtless have amazed them, had they been able to read her mind.

  Eight of them were not worth passing the time of day with. One had a laugh like a horse, the second had a protuberant nose and a receding chin, another was incredibly handsome but had not two thoughts to rub together, and the rest vied with each other for the honor of being most nondescript. None of them added to Belinda’s consequence, at least not in Joanna’s opinion. Even the fancy uniforms on six of them were not enough to start young girls’ hearts fluttering.

  Only the ninth man, Captain Nicholas Goldsborough, had not a single flaw. He was handsome without being pretty, intelligent without being prosy, witty without being cruel—in every way he was perfection. A score of suitors like Captain Goldsborough—now, that would be something to see!

  Given his lack of true competition, Joanna was all the more puzzled that Belinda did not single him out, that she did not direct all her attention, all her smiles, all her gurgling laughs toward Captain Goldsborough, and allow the rest of her suitors to retire disheartened from the lists.

  Joanna, on the other hand, was not that indiscriminate. She was not going to waste her opportunity to savor every moment of the captain’s presence. She had no intention of dividing her notice among all of her friend’s suitors, nor had she any inclination to admire the view of Brussels laid out so neatly below them.

  Instead, she planned to use her time wisely to store up memories of the way Captain Goldsborough’s shoulders filled out his uniform to perfection, of the way the sun turned his blond hair to sparkling gold. She would treasure forever the smiles he bestowed so readily on others. She would never forget his blue eyes ... which were now looking directly at her. Oh, my! For a moment she thought her heart had stopped beating, but then it resumed pounding in her chest.

  As if her thoughts had captured his attention, he eased himself out of the group of men and approached her where she was standing a bit apart. With an unfamiliar tightness in her throat, she glanced up, then down, afraid suddenly to meet his eyes.

  Out of the corner of her eye she was aware of him drawing nearer, and she felt as if a god had suddenly descended from Mount Olympus—Apollo, the sun god, to be precise. Captain Goldsborough, by his very proximity to her, was sending intense heat through her body, and she could feel it rising to her face, betraying her thoughts.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Pettigrew. Your brother asked me to make his excuses. His fluency with languages has made his presence necessary at a meeting between the Prince of Orange and one of the Austrian generals. I believe”—and here he paused, and she looked up to see him smiling down at her—”that Mark has received private instructions to moderate the prince’s language in translation. Last week, if the stories circulating in Brussels are correct, the prince managed to offend one Danish general, two Prussian colonels, and even several of his own officers. With Napoleon so close at hand, Wellington is not eager to lose the services of any of his coalition forces at this time.”

  There was such kindness in the captain’s eyes that Joanna felt her shyness melt away, and although she had never before had occasion to converse with an eligible young man, she now found it was the easiest thing imaginable to stand talking with him.

  “How is it that the Prince of Orange needs an interpreter? German is so similar to Dutch, one would think he could at least understand the spoken word, even if he cannot converse fluently in the language.”

  “Ah, there is the rub. Slender Billy was educated in England and can scarcely make himself understood in his mother tongue. But come, there is no point in our standing here like this. Let us seat ourselves in comfort on that bench, since it would appear that your companion is well occupied.”

  He took her arm to lead her to the stone bench, which was but a few steps away. He was only being polite, she reminded herself, but still she could not control the way her heart skipped a beat and her blood began to heat at his touch.

  “As a friend of your brother’s, I hope I may ask you a favor.”

  For a moment Joanna’s mind raced as fast as her heart, casting about for some way she might be able to help such a godlike man, who must surely be able to do anything and everything he chose. What on earth could he want of her?

  “Perhaps I presume too much,” he added with a rueful smile.

  Realizing she had delayed too long in answering him, she hastened to reply, “But of course I shall be happy to help you in any way that lies within my power.” She sounded too eager, even to her own ears, so she tried to make her voice more casual when she added, “Since you are, after all, one of my brother’s best friends.”

  Was he going to ask permission to call on her? Or take her driving in the park? Or perhaps he was going to suggest a pleasant outing or an excursion into the surrounding countryside?

  “I am hoping you can tell me which ball your friend Miss Dillon will be attending this evening and what color dress she will be wearing.”

  The years of experience with concealing her thoughts from her aunt and uncle now stood Joanna in good stead, and she carefully hid her disappointment from the captain. It would not do at all for him to discover how foolishly she had been enjoying his attention, and how she had mistakenly thought he had even the slightest interest in her.

  For a moment she looked down at her hands, which were twisting her handkerchief into a knot. Then, affixing what she hoped was a casual and friendly smile to her face, she glanced up and gazed directly into the captain’s blue eyes.

  “I believe the Dillons are planning to attend the rout party given by Lord and Lady Wilberford, and Belinda is intending to wear her orange silk gown with bronze ribbons, although I cannot guarantee that she will not change her mind between now and then and choose to wear another dress.”

  “A lady’s prerogative, to be sure. But I shall take my chances and see if I cannot find a suitable nosegay that will not clash with those colors. And what of the gown you plan to wear this evening? Might I also know its color?”

  Even while he asked, his eyes strayed back to Belinda, and Joanna could not pretend he was asking for any other reason than common courtesy. He was a true gentleman ... but that was not the same thing as a suitor. In any case, he could not be considered one of her suitors.

  “I ... I had not planned to attend,” she stammered.

  “Not attend? Does Miss Dillon then plan to keep you hidden away at home while she enjoys herself at the parties?” The captain looked at her in astonishment, the warmth gone from his blue eyes.

  For a moment, Joanna was tempted to destroy forever the captain’s high regard for her friend, but almost instantly she retreated from that thought. She was not a petty person who could let him be unjustly critical of Belinda just so that he might turn to...

  What a ridiculous idea! Even if she destroyed forever his interest in Belinda, he would not transfer his attention to a drab little nobody like her. If he ceased to pay court to her friend, he would also vanish completely out of her own life.

  Thus Joanna did not even have the consolation that she was doing the honorable thing when she hastened to correct him. “Oh, no, you misunderstand. She has, of course, always begged me to accompany her, and has even offered me some of her own gowns to wear, but I... I...” Joanna hesitated, suddenly realizing that the truth would not do.


  She could not explain to Captain Goldsborough, who had shown great bravery when facing French guns, that she was too cowardly to face a ballroom full of strangers. “I have been, waiting until my brother has an evening free to escort me,” she concluded lamely.

  It was not precisely a lie, but it was definitely phrased in a way guaranteed to conceal the whole truth. Not wishing Mark to find her presence in Brussels a handicap to his budding career, she had, in fact, never asked her brother to accompany her to any of the evening festivities, nor even suggested that she was not perfectly content missing out on all the parties that Belinda enjoyed so much.

  “If that is the case, it is easily enough remedied. You must allow me to stand in Mark’s stead. I have a sister of my own, you know, so I am quite adept at playing the role of brother. You may count on me to see that your dance card is kept filled and that no cads and bounders are allowed to do aught to distress you. So say you will attend this evening.”

  He was inviting her to a ball, albeit as a surrogate brother, but still she could not hold back a feeling of delightful anticipation. “I promise,” she replied, smiling up at him. With his help, she could face the prospect of a ballroom full of strangers, if not with equanimity, then at least without abject fear.

  * * * *

  “Oh, I cannot tell you how glad I am you decided to come with us this evening.” Belinda reached over and patted Joanna’s hand. “I have missed having a friend to talk over the panties with.”

  The Dillons’ carriage rumbled over the cobblestones, and Joanna, who was wearing a hurriedly taken-in olive-green dress of Belinda’s, was not at all sure she was glad. With every bump of the wheels her heart lurched, and by the time the coachman pulled up in front of the house rented by Lord and Lady Wilberford, she wanted nothing more than to remain cowering in the dark corner of the carriage where no one could see her.

 

‹ Prev