A Not So Respectable Gentleman?

by Diane Gaston

  But still a beauty. He hadn’t realised it then, but he’d known that day had been a moment to cherish.

  As was this moment.

  Their gazes caught and held.

  He spoke quietly, ‘We’ve known each other a long time.’

  A horn sounded to call them back to the carriage. He rose from the chair and offered her his hand. She scooped the kittens back onto their blanket and put her hand in his, letting him pull her up.

  They came close, inches from each other, and neither moved as their gazes caught and held. He inhaled her scent, felt the warmth of her body.

  The horn sounded again and they hurried to the yard.

  Walker met them. ‘There is a basket of food in the carriage.’

  Leo asked the maid, ‘Would you like to sit inside the carriage now? I can sit on the roof.’

  She looked stricken. ‘I—I like being outside.’ Her glance darted to Mariel. ‘Unless you would prefer I ride with you, miss.’

  Leo watched Mariel look from Penny to Walker and back again. ‘You may ride outside, if you like.’

  Her maid beamed. ‘Thank you, miss!’

  Once Leo and Mariel were back inside the carriage, Mariel remarked, ‘I believe there is romance afoot.’

  ‘Romance?’ He was puzzled.

  She gestured to the outside. ‘Penny and Mr Walker.’

  His brows rose. ‘No?’

  ‘I am fairly convinced.’ She peered at him intently. ‘Must I worry for her sake?’

  ‘Worry about Walker?’ Leo laughed. Walker, for all his rough past, would never trifle with an innocent such as Mariel’s maid. ‘He’s a fine man.’

  ‘Good.’ She averted her gaze. ‘I would not wish Penny to be ill used.’

  ‘Neither would I.’ True, he and Walker had engaged in encounters Mariel must never learn about, but all was different now—although their business was not entirely on the up and up.

  She plucked cat hairs off her skirt. ‘You? With your reputation?’

  He frowned. ‘Gossip, Mariel.’ He’d not been a saint, but he didn’t debauch innocent women. ‘Do you believe the tales told of me?’

  She cast him a long look before finally saying, ‘Your sister Annalise believes you have a mistress. Shall I not believe her?’

  ‘A mistress?’ He shook his head. ‘What mistress?’

  She held her gaze steady. ‘You must ask her.’

  He could not tell if she was teasing him or not. ‘Mariel.’ He spoke firmly. ‘I do not have a mistress. I do not have any idea what Annalise was talking about.’

  Mariel lifted one eyebrow.

  The carriage rolled through the village to the open country again. Pristine green hills passed by, and the rain-swollen Medway River. None of it provided enough distraction for him.

  Where the devil had Annalise got the idea he had a mistress? She wouldn’t have seen him with a woman. Good God, he’d not been with any woman besides Mariel, had he?

  The entire next hour was consumed with reviewing in his mind everywhere he had been and whom he had spoken to. The only woman he’d been with had been Mariel.

  He suddenly sat up straight. ‘That’s it!’

  She started.

  He laughed. ‘Penny!’

  She blinked. ‘What about Penny?’

  ‘It was driving me mad.’ He leaned towards her. ‘The mistress was Penny. Annalise saw me with Penny. At Hatchards. And Annalise called at my rooms the afternoon Penny delivered your note. It was Penny.’

  She cocked her head. ‘Well, that explains it, doesn’t it?’

  He could not tell if she believed him. ‘I have never kept a mistress. My reputation might suggest otherwise, but the truth is I—’

  She reached across and put her gloved fingers on his lips. ‘I never believed you did. At least not at present. I knew Annalise was mistaken.’

  He captured her hand in his. ‘I will not say I’ve been a saint, but, Mariel, you are the only woman I ever truly desired.’

  Yearning filled her eyes. ‘Oh, Leo! Then why can we not forget these past two years? We could start over.’

  He felt himself grow cold. ‘I told you. I am not the same man as I was then—’

  ‘I do not care if you lost your wealth,’ she broke in.

  He gave a dry laugh. ‘It is not that. I have plenty of money.’ And a small fortune coming soon by ship, God willing.

  ‘Then, why, Leo?’ Her voice cracked.

  Some things were best unspoken. ‘I no longer belong in polite society. As for why? It is best you do not know.’

  She pulled her hand away and turned from him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hughes stood in the centre of the road watching for the carriage. How fortunate he and his men had spied Fitzmanning when the carriage stopped to change teams at an inn. They’d ridden ahead to this spot.

  This perfect spot.

  All was going according to plan.

  The rumble of an approaching carriage reached his ears. Was their luck still holding?

  ‘Make ready!’ he called. His men were hidden from the road, obscured by shrubbery.

  Hughes’s excitement grew. This task was almost too easy. He wanted to shout in triumph, but first he needed to make certain this was the correct carriage.

  It came into view. He kept his eyes peeled on the post boy, the coachman, the passengers seated on top. This was it!

  ‘On my signal!’ he cried, stepping out of view.

  He waited until the horses reached his mark in the road.

  ‘Now!’

  His men pulled on a rope they’d strung across the road.

  The rope caught the back legs of the wheelers. The horses stumbled and the rope caught in the carriage’s wheels. There was a loud snap—the shaft breaking, perhaps?—and the horses broke free of the vehicle, the post boy frantically trying to get them under control as they galloped away.

  The carriage jolted and rocked and tilted on its side. Finally it fell, tossing the outside passengers and the coachman like rag dolls. Its momentum thrust it towards an embankment at the side of the road.

  Hughes let out a laugh.

  He glimpsed Fitzmanning inside as the carriage slid down the embankment and landed with a splash in the river.

  Hughes had counted on this scheme impeding Fitzmanning’s progress. If Fitzmanning were injured, so much the better. But having him lost completely in a rain-swollen river was the best of all possible outcomes. Kellford would be pleased.

  Hughes watched the fast-moving current sweep the carriage away, pulling it deeper and deeper into the water.

  ‘Off!’ he shouted to his men. They retrieved the rope and scurried away, before the coachman, holding his head in his hands, gathered his wits about him. The passengers were nowhere to be seen, but they were of no consequence to Hughes. The post boy was probably a mile away by now, still fighting the horses.

  The event would be written off as another unfortunate coaching accident. Its cause would remain unknown. And, for it, he and his men would be paid handsomely.

  * * *

  It had all happened so fast. The shout of the coachman. Mariel’s screams. The snap of something breaking. The carriage suddenly crashing on its side and sliding into the water, the cold water.

  Leo could only think to grab hold of Mariel, to shield her with his body. At first, the carriage floated like a boat, but quickly water poured in through the windows.

  ‘We have to get out of here.’ He scrambled for the door, but could not push it open. The windows were too small to crawl through.

  Mariel pushed at the door alon
g with him, but the water pressed on it with a force too great for them to counter. In no time the water was up to their necks. Remnants of their food basket floated around them.

  ‘Take a deep breath,’ Leo told her. ‘Get as much air into your lungs as you can.’

  She nodded and her gasp for air was the last sound he heard before the water covered her and reached his ears. He took his breath and joined her underwater.

  They pushed at the door again and this time it opened. Leo gripped her arm and pulled them both out, kicking hard to bring them up to the surface. He could feel the weight of her skirts trying to drag them down and the current sweeping them away from the carriage, but he kicked towards the daylight shining above the river water.

  He broke through to the surface and pulled her up with him, lifting her so that she could fill her lungs with air. The river dragged them under again. Leo kicked to the surface once more and they were able to grab another lungful of air before going under again.

  Leo had only one thought. To save Mariel. He’d fight to reach the shore, because he refused to allow Mariel to die this horrible death, unable to breathe, knowing life was ending.

  He clasped hold of the front of her dress, gripping it tight. He would die before he released her. One of his arms was free to fight the water like the enemy it had become. Mariel gamely did her part, kicking and adding her own strokes to the effort.

  A memory flashed through his mind. Swimming in the pond behind Welbourne Manor, the boys and the girls together in their underclothes, unsupervised as usual, but innocent in their play. He remembered dunking Mariel and laughing when she came up sputtering.

  In the rushing river, though, he fought to keep her head out of the water. He increased his effort, though his muscles ached and fatigue threatened. No matter. He must save Mariel’s life.

  The shore came closer and closer by inches. Suddenly the river pushed them towards the trunk of a fallen tree jutting out into the water. With all his strength Leo lunged for the tree’s branches and grasped one at the last second. The river continued to try to sweep Mariel away, but he hung on to her and pulled her towards him until she, too, could grab hold of the tree.

  He lifted her onto the fallen tree, although it took several tries. She made it finally and straddled the trunk. Leo lost his grip and the water tried to capture him again, but Mariel grabbed his coat and held on until he could fight his way back and again catch hold. Finally he, too, straddled the trunk.

  Leo’s muscles felt like jelly as he rested his cheek against the wet wood, savouring its solid surface. He had no idea how long they’d battled the water or how far the current had taken them. They were alive.

  Mariel was alive.

  ‘Are you hurt?’ he called to her.

  She turned her head to look back at him. ‘No.’

  His muscles relaxed in relief.

  But relief was short-lived. He remembered Walker and Penny, the coachman and the post boy. What had happened to them? The coachman, Penny and Walker must have been thrown from the vehicle. Had they been thrown clear of it? Were they alive?

  And what had caused the accident in the first place?

  He raised his head to look at Mariel. ‘We need to get on land. Can you move?’

  She nodded. ‘I’ll try.’

  She inched her way down the tree trunk to where the river became quieter. Tips of shrubs peeked up through water that had overflowed the river’s banks. A breeze rippled the surface of the water and chilled his skin. She must be cold as well, he thought. Cold and weary.

  But she kept on, crawling to where dry land beckoned.

  The tree acted as a bridge to the dry shore. When close, Mariel stood and navigated the rest of the way on foot, until she dropped to ground that was muddy but firm.

  Leo came right behind her. When his feet touched the ground, he reached for her, holding her in his arms, pressing her against him. Her life was the solid earth beneath his feet.

  ‘Mariel.’ He seized her lips in a kiss.

  All his terror for her, all his relief, were poured into the kiss, as if this alone would affirm that she was alive and safe and not lost to him forever. His embrace was almost violent in its intensity, but she matched him. Her arms encircled his neck, holding fast. She returned his kiss with equal fervour, clinging to him as hard as he was clinging to her.

  When they broke apart, both were trembling. He could not release her. At this moment it would have felt as if she would be swept away from him.

  He embraced her again, more gently, holding her against him, while his heartbeat and breathing gradually slowed to normal.

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispered against his chest. ‘Thank you for saving me.’

  * * *

  Mariel wanted never to leave the safety and security of Leo’s strong arms. Death had come so close and he battled it away. Emotions that she’d kept at bay during the danger now threatened to engulf her like the river water that had tried to sweep her into oblivion.

  Leo had saved her. He’d held on to her and saved her.

  ‘Come.’ He pulled her away, but kept his strong arm around her shoulders. ‘We need to move away from the edge.’

  She needed no further coaxing.

  The shore at this spot was thick with shrubbery and they had to push their way through, feet slipping on wet ground underneath. Finally they came into the open.

  The clear day that greeted them at the beginning of their journey had vanished. The sky was grey. Dark rain-clouds gathered in the distance. Nothing was in view but green fields. No houses. No road. Not even a church spire poking into the sky.

  Where were they?

  She seized his arm. ‘Leo! What happened to Penny? And Walker and the coachmen? Did they fall in the water, too?’

  He faced her and looked directly into her eyes. ‘They must have been thrown from the carriage when it tipped over. The horses broke free, I think, the post boy with them.’

  Thrown from the carriage? How could Penny survive such a horrible event? She could have been smashed against a tree or tumbled onto rocks or—or—crushed under the carriage.

  ‘We need to get dry. Find shelter.’ Leo was changing the subject and she did not like that. ‘Would you like to remain here while I look for help?’

  ‘Do not leave me!’ she cried. ‘I want to go back and find Penny. They might need us.’

  His expression was sympathetic. ‘We do not know how far the river carried us. It might be miles.’

  ‘I do not care,’ she insisted. ‘I want to find them.’

  He held her again. ‘I think it a better plan to find you a safe place to recuperate. Then I can go back to the site of the accident.’

  ‘No. I’m going with you.’ She could not bear it if he left her to worry and wonder about where he was and what he might find.

  It took a moment for him to respond. ‘Very well. We’ll look for them together. There is a chance that they are safe. As horrific as our part of the accident was, we came out unharmed. Walker knows how to keep his wits about him. After all he has been through, it will take more than a carriage accident to undo him.’

  ‘Kill him, you mean,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, that is what I mean.’ He released her.

  He was trying to give her hope, but she’d already steeled herself for the worst. She could bear discovering the worst better than waiting and knowing nothing.

  He took a breath. ‘If we walk upstream we’ll eventually find the roa
d and the site of the accident. Perhaps it is closer than I think.’ He peered at her. ‘But if I find someplace where you can be cared for, I will insist that comes first.’

  She would cross that bridge when she came to it. ‘Thank you, Leo.’ She gave him a swift embrace.

  Mariel pulled out the few pins left in her hair and wrung it as best she could before trying to pin it into a knot at the nape of her neck. Her bonnet had been lost in the river. Her clothes were still dripping wet and there was no sun to warm them.

  ‘I’m ready,’ she said.

  Leo took her hand and they started walking.

  It was hard going. Mariel’s skirts were heavy and her muscles weary. Her half-boots were soaked and her feet chafed from her wet stockings. Worse, she kept reliving the carriage falling on its side, sliding into the river, filling with water. Worse still, she pictured Penny lying broken and still by the road.

  ‘I should never have brought Penny with me,’ she said as she put one foot in front of the other.

  ‘You could not have known what would happen,’ Leo responded. ‘Try not to think about it.’

  ‘What did happen, Leo? All of a sudden the coach just lurched and fell on its side.’ She felt it again. The jolt of the carriage. The crash of the fall.

  He shrugged. ‘It felt as if we hit something in the road.’

  She tried to think of other things, as he suggested.

  She thought of his kiss. It spoke of loving her. She could not deny that. And of her loving him. She had never stopped loving him, she realised. No matter that he had left her two years ago. He was back and he’d fought the river to keep them alive.

  She glanced at him. His face revealed the effort it took to keep walking, as did hers, she supposed. His was a strong face. The sight of it still made her breath catch.

  Her mind flashed with the image of the water trying to sweep him away from the tree, right before she’d grabbed his coat. The thought that he might die had been so much worse than his leaving her two years ago had been.

  Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away and glanced up at the sky. ‘It is going to rain.’