“Oh, no, not at all!” Caroline blushed. “Sometimes I am allowed to have a friend to stay. It is so very lonely when Papa is away.”
“You must love him dearly.”
Caroline’s shyness vanished. “We all do!” she cried. “He is the best father in the world.”
“Certainly, he has been very kind to me.”
“I’m so glad you like him,” Caroline said impulsively. “Tell me about the voyage! When he is at sea I lie here wondering... Mama says that I allow my imagination to run away with me, but I can’t help it. I picture him in danger...” Her eyes filled. “You will think me very foolish, I expect.”
“No, I don’t,” Elizabeth assured her warmly. “But I think you have no need to worry. Captain Robsart is a splendid seaman. Why, when the French attacked, they stood no chance at all.”
Even as she uttered the words, she could have bitten out her tongue. What a thing to say! To admit that they had been in danger? She put out a hand to Caroline, but the girl’s eyes were shining.
“He saved you all?”
“Indeed, he did! With the captain in command I was not afraid at all!” This wasn’t strictly true, but the girl believed her.
“How brave you were!”
Elizabeth muttered a quick disclaimer. Then the arrival of her few possessions diverted Caroline’s attention.
“My gowns are sadly crumpled, I’m afraid.” Elizabeth glanced at the creased garments in dismay. “On board the Artemis I could not hang them up, or press them.”
“Jane will do that for you. She is the best of creatures.”
“Your mother’s maid? I should not like to trouble her. At this moment I should like to throw them all away.”
“Miss Grantham, you can’t mean it!” Caroline stroked the expensive fabric in appreciation. “This cloth is so very fine, and look at the trimmings.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Must you call me Miss Grantham? My name is Elizabeth. You think me extravagant, I fear, but if I am to go to London...?”
“Let us ask Mama. She will know what is best to be done.”
It was enough to set both girls chattering about the latest fashions.
In their absence the captain had put his wife in full possession of the facts relating to Elizabeth’s situation. As he had expected, the story aroused both her sympathy and her indignation.
“Poor child!” she exclaimed. “What was her father thinking of? To offer her hand in marriage to a total stranger, and then to bundle her aboard a ship, drugged as she was! My dear, I have no patience with such folly!”
“You don’t quite understand, my love. I should not have done the same myself, but—”
“I should hope not, indeed! Suppose that this wicker basket had been cast into the hold? Miss Grantham might have starved to death, and no one any the wiser!”
“Her father took great care that it would not happen. His measures were extreme, I know, yet his fears for her safety were not unfounded.”
“Robsart, you put me out of patience!” his wife said roundly. “A child is safer with its parents.”
“I wonder?” The captain puffed at his pipe. “Europe may yet be set ablaze.”
“Well, I know nothing of these matters. I thank heaven that the girl was neither drowned, nor killed by a stray musket-ball.”
Her husband patted her hand. “You are becoming as fanciful as Caroline,” he teased her.
“Am I? Next you will be telling me that you’ve just enjoyed a pleasure-cruise, and I, for one, will not believe you.”
He smiled at that, but he did not enlighten her.
“And how does your first lieutenant feel about all this?” she asked.
“Wentworth? I don’t know. When I said that he must marry her, he did not care for the idea.”
“You ordered him to marry her?” Mrs. Robsart looked at him in blank amazement. “Have your wits gone a-wandering, sir?”
“I meant it for the best,” the captain said defensively.
“No doubt!” Mrs. Robsart’s tone was dry. “What a matchmaker you are, to be sure! Between her father and yourself, that child must wonder if she is upon her head or her heels!”
“Well, you may judge the situation for yourself. If you have no objections, Wentworth will dine with us this evening.”
His wife gave him a sideways glance. Then she nodded, chuckling as she rose to drop a kiss upon his brow. The captain slipped an arm about her waist, and pulled her down to sit upon his knee.
“My dear sir, what are you about?” she protested laughing. “Do you not hear the girls?”
Blushing with pleasure, she rose as Elizabeth came towards her, and was moved to kiss her cheek.
“Well, my dear, has Caroline made you comfortable?”
“She has, ma’am, and most kindly, but I beg that you will excuse my appearance. My clothing suffered somewhat on the voyage...”
“Jane shall press a gown for you to wear this evening, since Mr Wentworth is to dine with us.” She refrained from glancing at Elizabeth’s face. Later, she would have time enough to judge how matters lay between this lovely girl, and her unwilling suitor.
Chapter Nine
“I have asked Rainham too,” the captain murmured as an afterthought. “Did I forget to mention that?”
“You did, my love.” Mrs Robsart threw her husband a look of mock reproach. “I had best give orders in the kitchen.”
“Mama, before you go, Elizabeth would like your advice. She is to go to London, as you know, and she wondered...? She has so little clothing with her...”
“Let us speak of it later.” Mrs Robsart bustled away.
Caroline threw an arm about her father’s neck.
“Looking for your present, puss?” he teased.
“Oh, no, Papa.” Caroline hung her head.
“Now, when did I return without some little trinket for you?” The captain reached into his pocket and produced a small flat leather case. “Open it, my dear, before you die of curiosity.”
The case held a silver bracelet, ornamented with pearls and lapis lazuli.
“Blue stones...how beautiful. Papa, it will look so well with my new gown... Oh, thank you!”
“A new gown?” he said with mock severity. “Have you been spending all my money while I was away?”
“I’d grown out of my others,” Caroline confided. “They were bursting at the seams.”
“So now you are as fine as fivepence? Tonight, I see, I am to be dazzled.”
When the girls came down that evening, he professed to be struck dumb with admiration. His good humour was infectious and Elizabeth’s spirits lifted.
Chris greeted her with his usual warmth, but she was aware only of Perry. She looked at his dark head as he bent to kiss her fingers, and her heart turned over. He looked magnificent. In honour of the occasion both men wore dress uniform, and his powerful frame showed off the blue coat laced with gold to full advantage.
She smiled a welcome, but he seemed unaware of it. His manner appeared to be intended to keep her at a distance—how she hated that air of stiff formality.
She turned away and addressed herself to Mrs Robsart. Her enquiry concerned the possibility of purchasing certain necessary items in the town next day, but she paid little attention to the reply.
Her hostess seemed unaware of the fact that two of her guests had lost their appetites. Yet she could have sworn that neither Perry nor Elizabeth knew what they were eating. The fish course was removed with barely a mouthful taken, and they made few inroads upon the mutton steaks with cucumber. Even a tart made with her finest preserved damsons was left untouched. She was much too wise to press them. Instead, she turned to Perry.
“How shall you travel to London, Mr Wentworth? You have the choice of the Mail, or the stagecoach.”
“I thought of hiring a chaise, ma’am. It will be quicker.”
Elizabeth’s spirits sank. Did he wish to be rid of her so soon?
“Do you think so?” Mrs Robsart ask
ed. “The roads are so poor at this time of year, and we have had heavy rains...” She did not voice her own belief that to travel in a closed carriage with this personable young man for so long a journey could only damage Elizabeth’s reputation, especially as she had no woman with her. “With the larger coaches there are many willing hands to lift them from the ruts...” She caught her husband’s eye and subsided.
Perry had understood her perfectly. “Perhaps you know of some respectable woman who might accompany us? Elizabeth will need a maid.”
“An abigail?” Elizabeth glared at him. “I have no need—” She stopped, realising that she had spoken out too sharply. She turned to her hostess with an apologetic smile. “I could not think of anything for her to do, you see. I have few clothes.”
“You may find some things in Portsmouth,” Mrs Robsart murmured calmly. This child had no idea of the reason for her objection to the chaise. After all, she had travelled for many weeks without a chaperon. It was rather late in the day to be considering such matters. Until now she had come to no harm, but she had seen nothing to assure her that this desirable state of affairs would continue for long.
Perry was deep in love, she was convinced of it, and she knew, too, that Elizabeth returned his affection.
At present, they were unaware of each other’s feelings, but proximity was all. Men, in her experience, could be pushed just so far before their self-control snapped. Perry was no exception. It might take just a look, a gesture, an accidental touch, and they would be in each other’s arms.
Later that night she voiced her fears to her husband.
“My love, you are mistaken,” he assured her. “Wentworth does not care for her, else he would not have made such a shambles of the business. And Elizabeth gives him no encouragement. He told me himself that she holds him in dislike.”
“Sometimes I despair of you, my dear one!” With that his good lady slipped into bed beside him, and promptly forgot the star-crossed lovers in her own happiness.
On the following day she was relieved to find that Perry had taken her advice. He had booked two seats on the Mail coach which left Portsmouth early next morning.
“So soon?” she protested. “We had hoped to keep Elizabeth with us at least until the end of the week.”
“You are very kind, but my aunt will be expecting me.” Elizabeth did not look at Perry. Her fears were confirmed. He could not wait to rid himself of his unwelcome charge.
It was with a heavy heart that she accompanied Caroline and Mrs Robsart into the town. There was no time to consider the buying of new garments, but it did not matter.
It didn’t take her long to make her few small purchases, which consisted mainly of gloves, handkerchiefs and a bonnet. Jane had restored her wardrobe to something of its former glory, and she would not disgrace her aunt.
The household was up betimes next day to send her on her way with many expressions of goodwill. Elizabeth was touched. She’d known the captain’s family for so short a time, yet they’d enveloped her in their warmth.
Now she had only Perry to remind her of those days aboard the Artemis, which already bore a dream-like quality. Had they really happened? It didn’t seem possible now that she was seated in this crowded coach, her ankles grazed already by the basket of the woman opposite.
With a swift movement of his foot, Perry slid the basket further along, and she gave him a look of gratitude.
He didn’t respond. His face remained impassive, and she felt a little spurt of anger. If he hadn’t wished to accompany her to London, he should have said so. Much as she disliked the idea of a chaperon, the company of some respectable woman would have been preferable to that of a surly companion.
It wasn’t true, and in her heart she knew it. These last few hours with him were precious to her. They were all she would have left to treasure, even though he was here against his will.
She could not know the true state of his feelings. At that moment all he desired in life was to hand Elizabeth into a closed chaise, and set off in search of the nearest parson.
He groaned inwardly. Such a course would do his cause no good at all. Desperate though he was, to kidnap Elizabeth now would turn her dislike into hatred. In an elopement, the bride must be willing. He could imagine her reply if she were asked at the ceremony to take him for her husband. It would be a sharp refusal.
He stole a sideways glance at her. Stiff and cold in manner, she was sitting bolt upright, and her expression didn’t encourage conversation. He could see only her profile as she gazed out at the winter landscape.
It was no bleaker than her thoughts, but she refused to give way to despair. In time, Aunt Mary might be persuaded to send her back to Italy, away from this hard grey land where the men were as cold as ice.
“I beg your pardon, ma’am?” Elizabeth found that she was being addressed by the woman with the basket.
“I asked if you go all the way to London, miss?”
“Why, yes! Forgive me, I am still half-asleep. We made such an early start...”
“A weary journey!” The man beside her shook his head. “I have no faith that we shall reach our destination without mishap.”
“You fear that we may be stopped by highwaymen?” Elizabeth was startled by his dire prediction.
“No, no! There is no danger. The guard is armed.”
The woman with the basket paled. “And doubtless drunk, together with the driver—”
“At this hour of the day?” Perry was quick to intervene. “I saw no sign of it.”
“Wait until we stop, my dear sir! They will make full use of the taproom, and the coachman has but one eye. His lead horse, too, is blind. I am convinced of it... They will overturn us, mark my words.”
Elizabeth found it difficult to keep her countenance. Beside her she felt Perry’s shoulders shaking. It was too much for her. She tried to turn her laughter into a cough, and promptly choked.
Their lugubrious companion brightened. He launched into a discourse upon the evils of travelling in the winter months, and the number of his friends who had been carried off by a variety of diseases, including an inflammation of the lungs.
Elizabeth was soon helpless, and was forced to bury her face in her handkerchief.
At their first stop, Perry hurried her away from the others.
“You are a disgrace!” he grinned. “Next thing the driver will be asked to put us off.”
“I’m sorry!” she said weakly. “I couldn’t help it. Do you blame me?”
“No, I don’t.” His own eyes were dancing. “Dear God! What a Jeremiah!”
“I’ll do better when we go on,” she promised him. “That is, if he doesn’t start again...” This sent her off into a fresh peal.
“How good it is to see you laugh like that!” Perry told her warmly. “I could almost forgive that miserable creature. When we set out you looked so sad.”
“I was thinking...well...”
“Yes?” he asked eagerly. A faint hope stirred within his breast. Could it be that she would miss him?
“Oh, nothing! I am being foolish. It is this weather. The rain and the mist have sunk my spirits and it is so very cold.”
“You need a hot drink,” he murmured. “Buttered rum, I think.”
Elizabeth was doubtful, but when the steaming potion appeared she drank it gratefully. As the strong spirit coursed through her veins, even her toes began to tingle.
“Better?” Perry was laughing down at her.
“Much better! This is very good, but it tastes rather strong.”
“It is!” Perry was unrepentant. “It may send you to sleep, but I’ll wake you if you snore.”
“I don’t snore.” Elizabeth was indignant.
“How do you know? You can’t listen to yourself. Still, it isn’t wise to drink on an empty stomach, or you may decide to entertain us with a song or two on the rest of the journey.” A snap of his fingers brought the landlord to his side, and he ordered ham and eggs, a dish to which he and
Elizabeth did full justice.
In the event, it was their dismal companion who had imbibed too freely at the inn. He was soon sound asleep.
The farmer in the opposite corner nodded towards the recumbent figure. “There’s one who thrives on prophecies of disaster,” he chuckled as he addressed himself to Perry. “I fancy that you, sir, do not share his fears?”
Perry laughed and shook his head.
“I thought not. Have you seen much action, captain?”
“My dear sir, I am not a captain, merely a first lieutenant, lately returned from the Mediterranean Sea.”
“Were you engaged with the French?”
“We were, but I’m glad to say that we came off best.” Perry smiled at Elizabeth, remembering their shared danger.
“Murdering critturs!” The woman with the basket snorted in disgust. “When I think of their poor Queen! What’s to become of her little ones?”
“I don’t know, ma’am. At this present time I hear they are imprisoned.”
“It’s a disgrace! Mad dogs, the lot of them... It’s as well, sir, that we have you to keep us safe, but your poor little wife here must be fair sick with worry.”
“She keeps up well, ma’am. It isn’t the French who worry her...rather it is the mermaids...”
His listeners laughed heartily at the joke, and Elizabeth joined in.
“No, no, I won’t have mermaids!” she exclaimed. “That is coming it too brown.”
She’d been about to correct the woman’s mistake, but then she decided that it would be less embarrassing to ignore it, rather than to embark upon an explanation.
Perry laid his hand upon his heart. “Do you doubt me? How can that be when I always tell the truth?”
Her expression changed. He was not referring to the wonders of the deep and she knew it. With a grave face she turned away.
When they stopped again there was no time for conversation. The fog had delayed them and the coachman was anxious to push on.
“Well, I must have my tea,” the woman with the basket told him. “And it is too hot to drink.”
“I can’t help that, ma’am. I must keep to my schedule.”
“We’ll see about that,” the woman whispered to Elizabeth. Whilst the driver’s back was turned, she tossed the teaspoons into the pot, and immediately started a hue and cry for them. In the resulting uproar she was able to enjoy her tea at leisure.
Regency Admirer/The Merry Gentleman/The Gentleman's Demand Page 14