by Mary Nichols
Lucy had really taken to her and he knew that she could influence his sister for the better, if only she could be prevented from making any more mistakes in protocol. He had to admit she was a pleasure to have about the house. In the space of a few days she had made herself agreeable to everyone, servants included, for she was always cheerful and never grumbled. Her ready smile brightened his day and he knew he would miss her if she left. Besides, he was still curious.
‘It is of no consequence,’ he said, noticing how his words made her suddenly relax and let out her breath, as if she had been holding it in apprehension. He smiled. ‘I am sure you are intelligent enough to learn what is right and proper, given a little instruction, so in future when you are in any doubt, come to me. If I am not available, err on the side of caution.’
‘You mean I may stay?’
‘Yes, you may stay. Now, go and find my sister. She will be impatient to know the verdict.’
Emma rose and bobbed a curtsey, something she had trained herself not to mind doing. ‘Thank you, my lord.’
She hurried away, glad of the reprieve, even though she did not expect it to last. He was suspicious of something, though she was not sure exactly what had alerted him. Should she leave before it all became impossible to bear? But the thought of tramping the streets looking for work again and having nowhere to live in the meantime, deterred her.
What was more, the prospect of never seeing him again made her miserable; he had become the focal point of her existence.
Perhaps she ought to tell him the truth, confess to her deception, beg his pardon. He was a forgiving kind of man, he had proved that. Although she had deceived him over her name and her experience as a companion, none of it had been directed at him personally.
If she told him the truth, would he understand? Would he allow her to stay, keep her secret? He might even be able to tell her something about Viscount Mountforest. It was not unlikely they were known to each other. In spite of being a different generation, were they perhaps friends? That might make it difficult; his lordship was too loyal to listen to anything said against a friend. But, oh, how she needed to unburden herself, make a clean start.
She could leave, creep away like a thief in the night, which would be an even more despicable thing to do. Where would she find a position as congenial as this? Her working conditions were extremely pleasant and she had become very fond of Lucy. There was also the practical problem of repaying the advance she had been given, which she had not yet earned.
Until she found a suitable opportunity to tell his lordship the truth, or until something happened to make it impossible for her to stay, she would remain, learn to earn her wage and her keep. Love, she told herself sternly, did not come into it.
Lucy was in her sitting-room, pretending to read, but as soon as she heard Emma’s step outside the door, she ran to open it and pulled her into the room.
‘Oh, Emma, did he give you a dreadful set-down? I know what he is like when he is on his high ropes, worse than Papa ever was. If he upset you, I shall not forgive him. As for letting you go…’
Emma laughed. ‘I am not to be dismissed.’
‘Oh, thank goodness. I had a horrible vision of being packed off to Yorkshire and no come-out. I would do anything rather than that. Besides, you are my friend.’
‘Then as your friend, it behoves me to make sure you behave properly,’ Emma said, allowing herself to be pulled down on to the edge of the bed beside the girl. ‘From now on, we follow the rules.’
‘Rules! What are rules for if not to be broken?’ She paused. ‘But you were with him a long time. Whatever were you talking about?’
‘Miss Mountforest, for the most part.’
‘Sophie?’ Lucy queried in surprise. ‘What has Sophie to do with it?’
‘Sophie? You are mistaken, dear. Miss Mountforest’s name is Emma, the same as mine. She was my employer and friend in, India. Surely you remember my saying so that first day?’
‘Yes, and I wanted to ask you about her, but Dominic would not let me speak. Heaven knows why, he has nothing to hide.’
Emma was mystified. ‘I do not understand.’
‘Why, Miss Sophie Mountforest is Dominic’s intended. She is the only daughter of Viscount Mountforest. They have been unofficially engaged for ages, but they wouldn’t publish it on account of us being in mourning for Papa. We are out of mourning now and I believe they intend to make the announcement very soon.’
Emma was so shocked she could not speak. No wonder he had been so curious about Miss Emma Mountforest! If he did not know she had been deceiving him, he very soon would, and the knowledge that the object of his desire was her own cousin greatly added to her distress. She had tempted fate and lost, lost her good name, lost her self-respect, lost any chance of happiness.
Why had she imagined he was free? His interest in her had been his natural kindness and consideration, not the early blossoming of something deeper. Oh, what a fool she had been! She would have stood up and rushed from the room if she could have been sure her legs would support her.
‘Mountforest is such an unusual name, they must be related,’ Lucy went on, all unknowing. ‘Did your Miss Mountforest ever speak of kin in England?’
‘What? Oh, no, not that I remember.’
‘Oh, what a hum!’ Lucy began to laugh. ‘I wonder what Sophie will say when she hears of it. She has not yet come to town, for you know, we arrived early, but she will be here tomorrow and you will doubtless meet her.’ She paused. ‘Why, Emma, is anything amiss? You look pale as alabaster. Are you ill?’
‘No, a little faint, that is all. I am perfectly recovered now.’
‘You poor dear! I am not surprised, I know what Dominic can be like when he is angry and it was not at all your fault.’
‘Oh, he was not angry at all,’ she said, glad to change the subject. ‘In fact, he was very understanding and agreeable…’
Lucy peered into her face. ‘Oh, Emma, you haven’t developed a tendre for him, have you?’
‘No, of course not! Good heavens, Lucy, he is engaged elsewhere.’
‘Yes, but you did not know it until I told you, did you?’ When Emma did not answer she went on, ‘You told him the name of your previous employer and yet he said nothing. I wonder what is going on in his head.’
Emma wondered that too. He had questioned her about Miss Emma Mountforest, but he hadn’t said a word about his own connection with the Mountforest family. Why? Why had he kept silent? One thing was now certain; any idea she might have had for confessing had been well and truly knocked out of her.
For the first and only time, she wished her father had been a little more thoughtful for the future and made proper provision for her and Teddy; she found it hard to believe he had been so imprudent as to ignore the possibility of his untimely death. He was, after all, a serving soldier. A small income and somewhere to live was all that she asked and instead she had found problem heaped upon problem.
He had left her to look after her young brother, who had so idolised his father that any hint of condemnation must, in Teddy’s eyes, be immediately redressed. And who could blame him for that? She should be thinking of her brother, not worrying about her own concerns. Hadn’t she and Teddy sworn to clear their father’s name and how better to do it than being on the inside, so to speak? Running away was not the answer. She had to play this charade out to the bitter end.
Could she do it? And when she was confronted with her deception, which was inevitable, could she face her cousin and, more to the point, her uncle, the Viscount? What would Dominic say, Dominic whose good opinion she valued above all other? She dare not think of that.
Chapter Four
If Emma thought that a good night’s sleep might bring the answer to her problem over the imminent arrival of her cousin, she was to be disappointed. It was hours before sleep claimed her, and then she woke at dawn to find all the bedcovers on the floor and nothing resolved. Rest had not been the answer; perhaps physic
al activity might help drive the demons away.
Dominic kept one or two riding horses along with the carriage horses in the mews and a gallop might clear her head. There would be grooms who would saddle one for her and she did not think his lordship would object. She rose, washed quickly and donned her old dark green taffeta riding habit over a pair of cotton breeches.
She was creeping past Lucy’s door towards the back stairs when it was opened and Lucy herself appeared in her nightgown. ’emma, where are you going so early?’ she whispered.
‘I couldn’t sleep.’ Emma, too, was anxious not to wake the household and her voice was low. ‘I thought I would go for a ride in the park. His lordship would not mind if I borrowed a mount, would he?’
‘Of course not. I’ll come too. Come and help me dress.’
‘Lucy, I do not think that would be wise, not after the trouble we got into over that walk in the park.’
‘Oh, that was nothing. Besides, it’s too early for Lady Clarence to be up and about, isn’t it? It’s too early for anyone of note to be out.’
‘I promised your brother I would abide by the rules…’
‘What rules? Show me the one that says I may not ride out.’
Emma was reminded of Mrs Goodwright’s book of etiquette and, in spite of everything, she smiled. That book had been addressed to ladies, it did not cover the duties of a companion and what to do about a young lady too used to having her own way.
‘Why are you smiling?’
‘I was thinking about rules.’
‘Which are too silly, most of them, and made to be broken,’ Lucy said promptly. ‘Oh, Emma, let me come. I am wide awake and longing for a ride. Where’s the harm?’
‘Please go back to bed, Lucy.’
‘No, you are up and about, why should I not be? If you don’t let me come, I shall simply dress myself and follow you.’
Emma was too overwrought to argue and it was better to have Lucy riding beside her, than let her carry out her threat. She turned into the girl’s room and helped her to dress in a becoming dark blue habit with a high-crowned hat with long feathers curling about its brim.
‘I didn’t know you could ride,’ Lucy whispered, as they made their way down the stairs and out of a side door which led down the lane to the mews. ‘I should have suggested it before.’
‘Everyone rides in India,’ Emma said. ‘My brother and I were used to going every morning before the sun came up and made it too hot.’
They reached the stables and found Martin, the head groom, who looked at them both and scratched his head in perplexity when asked to saddle two horses. ‘But, Miss Lucy, there is only one side saddle,’ he said. ‘You bein’ the only lady in the household…’
‘Oh, dear, I had quite forgotten that,’ Lucy said.
‘It doesn’t matter in the least,’ Emma put in, with a laugh. ‘I have always ridden astride. I’m not at all sure I should know how to go on with a side saddle anyhow.’
‘Astride?’ queried the astonished Lucy, looking down at Emma’s habit. ‘How can you do that?’
‘If you ask the groom to saddle a horse for me, I will show you,’ she said.
Martin went away to do Lucy’s bidding, muttering as he did so that he didn’t know what his lordship would say to such goings on. And before the streets were even aired! Why, it couldn’t be above seven o’clock. Respectable young ladies should be in their beds, not pestering him. Not that he would have dreamed of disobeying Miss Lucy, who was a great favourite of his.
In no time at all, he had saddled both Lucy’s mare and a young bay stallion, wondering as he did so if the animal might be a little too strong for the young lady who was not above pint-sized.
He bent to offer Miss Lucy his hand to mount and she was soon in the saddle, then he turned to Emma, wondering a little what he should do. That she would show a great deal of petticoat and leg while mounting he did not doubt and where to put his eyes he did not know. He need not have worried. Emma put her booted foot in his hand and the next minute she was astride the horse, having revealed nothing more than a well-constructed pair of breeches!
As soon as they had trotted out of the yard, he saddled a cob to ride after them. His lordship would give him the bag, for sure, if he let them go alone.
It was a fresh morning and the dew was still on the grass, but it promised to be a fair day, and the two girls were content to trot side by side, enjoying the air. It was too early for most riders and they had the Row to themselves. It was too much of a temptation for Emma, who set her horse to a canter and then a gallop, with Lucy manfully trying to keep up. At the end of the Row, she stopped and waited for Lucy to come up to her.
‘My!’ Lucy said breathlessly. ‘You certainly can ride. Brutus is not exactly easy with a lady on. I tried him once and he didn’t like it above half.’
‘Perhaps he doesn’t like a side saddle,’ Emma said. ‘It doesn’t distribute the weight evenly, you know, and you cannot guide him with both thighs, can you?’
‘I never thought of that. Is it comfortable?’
‘Very.’
‘Do let me try.’
‘I am not sure I should allow it,’ Emma said dubiously. ‘After yesterday, I dare not upset his lordship again. And you are not wearing breeches.’
‘What is that to the point when there is no one about to see me? And as for Dominic, how will he get to know? You would not be so foolish as to tell him, would you?’
‘No, but…’
‘Just a little way, Emma,’ she wheedled. ‘I won’t gallop, I promise.’
Emma relented and, dismounting, helped Lucy mount Brutus, carefully arranging her full skirt over her legs. ‘There! How does that feel?’
‘A bit strange, but comfortable.’ She dug in her heels, clicked her tongue and Brutus went forward at a walk. ‘It’s marvellous!’ she cried. ‘I cannot think why I have never tried it before. Do mount Bessie and come along.’
Emma, who could spring astride most horses without help, found mounting side saddle quite difficult and it was a moment or two before she was seated by which time Lucy had cantered some little way ahead. She was laughing and in great spirits and Emma became concerned that she might not keep her promise not to gallop. She spurred the mare to catch her.
Before she could do so, Brutus had bolted. She had no time to wonder what had caused it, as she set off after her, knowing she had no chance on the gentle mare of stopping the runaway horse. She could hear Lucy crying out and called out to her to hold on.
Other sounds beside the galloping hooves of the mare and her own heavy breathing impinged themselves on her consciousness. Someone was calling out a long way behind her and then, from a path to the side another rider appeared. He passed her in a flash of dark blue jacket and white breeches and was very soon alongside the runaway horse. Reaching out he took the reins from the petrified Lucy and slowly brought the animal to a standstill.
Both horses and riders were blowing hard and Emma had ridden up beside them before either could speak. It was then that Emma, breathless herself, realised that Lucy’s rescuer was Captain Fergus O’Connor, and he was grinning with delight. He jumped down and held out his arms to help Lucy down. She fell into them and remained there, even when her feet were safely on the ground, for she was very shaken and her legs would not support her.
‘Well, if it isn’t my peach,’ he said. ‘I said I would find you again, but I had no idea it would be so soon.’
‘Oh, sir, I am so thankful you came along,’ Lucy replied, turning her face up to his. ‘You saved my life.’
‘And sure, wasn’t it well worth the doing,’ he said, showing no sign of wanting to release her. ‘It was my pleasure.’
‘I must add my gratitude,’ Emma said, taking Lucy’s arm to disengage her from the Captain’s embrace. ‘I had no idea the horse would bolt like that…’
‘Funny creatures, horses,’ he mused, as he reluctantly relinquished the beauty. ‘They know when someone is nervous and
not their master, and if they are the least skittish they play on it. I wonder, ma’am, you allowed it.’
‘Oh, do not blame Emma,’ Lucy cried. ‘I begged to be allowed to ride astride. I had not done it before.’
‘I should think not! But stouthearted you were, there’s no denying. Allow me to escort you home.’
‘There is no need for that, Captain,’ Emma said. Now that the incident was over and no one harmed, she was beginning to wonder what her employer would say about the escapade if he learned of it; allowing the Captain to escort them home would lead to questions with uncomfortable answers and that would surely seal her fate. Walking in the park alone was nothing to what had happened here. ‘We need not detain you. I should not wish you to be late.’
‘Oh, you are not detaining me, ma’am. I had arranged to meet a friend for a ride, but he must have mistaken the time or the date, for there is no sign of him. I have all the time in the world.’
‘The Captain could perhaps ride with us as far as the gate,’ Lucy suggested, knowing exactly what Emma was thinking. ‘No one could object to that surely? I am still feeling a little shaken.’
‘To be sure,’ he agreed. ‘I will see you safely to the highway.’ He seized the mare’s bridle and brought it round to Lucy. ‘This, I think, is your mount, Miss…’
‘Besthorpe,’ she provided.
‘Oh, then the brother you spoke of the other day is the Marquis of Cavenham?’
‘Indeed,’ she said, putting her small foot in his big hand. He lifted her easily into the saddle, then turned to help her companion only to find that Emma, having already mounted, was sitting easily astride the stallion. He grinned appreciatively and swung into his own saddle, turning his horse to ride between them.
‘Captain, I should be obliged if you said nothing of this little episode to anyone,’ Emma requested.
‘I’m not so sure,’ he said. ‘After all, if Miss Besthorpe’s safety is in your hands, then his lordship should know what a bungle you are making of it.’
‘Captain, you are not to say that!’ Lucy cried. ‘Miss Woodhill is my friend and I will not have her scolded. I asked to come with her when she had no intention of bringing me and I implored her to let me ride astride Brutus. She made it look so easy and I thought I could do it too…’