The Viscount's Unconventional Bride

by Mary Nichols

  She moved her head sideways and realised that it hurt to do so. Mrs Slater was sitting in a chair by her bed watching her. ‘Oh, I did not know you were there,’ she murmured. ‘Is it very late?’

  ‘Noon, my dear, but no matter…’

  ‘Noon! Oh, I cannot lie here…’ She struggled to sit up, but had to lie down again when the room seemed to whirl about her. ‘Oh, I am suddenly dizzy.’

  ‘It is not to be wondered at after the ducking you took yester day. And then to walk about in wet clothes…’

  ‘Betty?’ Her friend had been just as wet.

  ‘Betty is perfectly well. She has had her breakfast and gone out with Mr Linton. I have lent her a dress…’

  What were Betty and Mr Linton doing going out together? she wondered. Where had they gone? Why had they not woken her and suggested she should go with them? She felt abandoned and desperate to regain her dignity and determination, both of which seemed to have deserted her. ‘It is very kind in you. I must get up.’ She tried once more to sit and the same thing happened: she was dizzy and her head hurt. In fact, all her muscles ached. ‘It must be trying to work that barge,’ she said, then smiled wanly. ‘Did Mr Linton tell you about that too?’

  ‘Yes, and that you had lost all your belongings. I have said I will find some garments for you, until he can bring you some more.’ She smiled suddenly. ‘I wonder what his taste will be.’

  ‘I have no idea. I cannot think why he should bother. I had better wear my breeches again.’

  ‘I do not think that men’s clothes suit you, my dear. And to be sure they were torn and muddy. I have disposed of them. Mr Linton said you would not need them any more,’ Mrs Slater said.

  ‘Oh.’ She felt too weak to argue about Jonathan’s high-handedness; besides, she had promised Jonathan not to wear the breeches again. She sank back on the pillow, wishing she felt strong enough to exert her independence.

  ‘You have taken a chill, Miss Vail, and must stay in bed a little longer.’

  ‘Oh, please, I am Louise. And I cannot impose on you.’

  ‘It is not an imposition, Louise, but a pleasure. We should all help each other through life, do you not agree? It is what our Saviour taught us.’

  ‘You sound like my father.’

  ‘Your father? I understood you were without a father. Mr Linton said he was your guardian,’ the older woman commented.

  She was annoyed and inclined to deny the man was anything of the sort, but realised he had probably done it to save her reputation. And truly the Reverend Vail was not her father. She could not tell the good lady that, it would lead to a roasting, a roasting about who she was and where she came from and where she was going. And it was all too much to explain. ‘So he is, but that has only come about quite recently. My papa was a devout Christian.’

  ‘I am glad to hear it.’ The good lady seemed to accept this ambiguous statement at face value. ‘I felt sure you were not the hoyden you appeared to be. A hoyden would not have been so caring and helpful when that coach turned over and that dreadful man…’ She shuddered. ‘You were very brave and so was Mr Linton.’

  ‘Thank you.’ If she had any idea of confiding the truth, she discarded it. The woman obviously lived by her religious principles and they would not include giving house room to a runaway, especially one who was probably the result of an illicit liaison. Mr Linton had been kind to shield her from that. But how had he explained what she was doing in a public coach while he came behind in his own carriage?

  ‘I will have some broth sent up to you, and then you must sleep some more. Nourishment and sleep are the best cures for your ailment. And when you are quite well, we will talk some more.’ She stood up, patted the covers and left Louise to her thoughts. But her head was so muzzy she could not think straight, let alone formulate a plan. Nor did she think sleep and nourishment were the cure for her ills. She wished she had not promised Mr Linton she would not leave Mrs Slater. Why had he gone off with Betty? Betty was a little turncoat; she would have something to say to her when she put in an appearance. But supposing she did not? She had said she wanted to go home. Is that where she was, on the way back to Barnet, escorted by Mr Linton, leaving her to stew here, too weak to move…?

  Jonathan had taken Betty to help him choose suitable clothes for Louise. They had visited several shops where ready-made gowns could be obtained. His mother and sister had all their gowns made for them and a fine penny they cost, but there was no time to have gowns made for Louise and he did not think sumptuous clothing and hooped petticoats were appropriate under the circumstances. He smiled to himself as he turned over ready made muslins, gingham and jaconet in pinks and blues and greens, open gowns, silk petticoats, closed gowns, quilted stomachers, laced stays, flimsy scarves, ladies’ shoes. ‘What do you think?’ he asked Betty. The girl was wide-eyed and giggly.

  ‘They are all very fine, sir. I am sure M…Lou will be happy with whatever you choose, but…’

  ‘But what? And why can you not refer to her as Louise?’

  ‘She said I was to call her Lou until she gave me leave to say her real name.’

  ‘But that is Louise?’

  She nodded, looking at the ground where some puddles still remained from the downpour of two days before, picking her way round them. He knew she was uncomfortable about the quizzing and though he had intended to pursue it relentlessly, believing she would tell him more than Miss Vail would, he could not go on with it. It would be making the poor girl into a sneak and that was not fair. Louise Vail must tell him herself. And until she did he would stick to her side.

  He was perfectly aware that was not what he had been commissioned to do—find her and bring her back was all that had been asked of him—but he could not help wondering what was behind her flight. It was something that had turned her from a happy madcap into a rather sad and lonely traveller and he could empathise with that. He could not force her to go back, would not if he could, and he had a feeling, which he could not explain, that she was going to need him. ‘But what?’ he said, going back to the discussion about clothes. ‘You said Miss Louise would be happy with anything but…’

  ‘She will insist on paying for them herself and her purse is all but empty, so please, sir, do not be too extravagant.’

  ‘I shall be as extravagant as I choose to be. You may safely leave Miss Louise’s scruples to me.’ Discarding the idea of pink and lemon, he picked up a taffeta gown in a clear green, the green in her oh-so-expressive eyes. ‘What about this? Will it fit her, do you think? She is a little taller than you, but your figures are similar. You could try it on and we shall see if the size is right.’

  Betty was shown into a room at the rear of the establishment and a few minutes later emerged in the green gown. The vibrant colour did nothing for Betty, but he knew it would be just right on Louise. ‘Yes, it will do nicely,’ he said, handing her a deep blue silk. ‘Now try this one.’

  And so it went on, from shop to shop. Picking gowns, none intended to be worn with hoops; he hated the cumbersome fashion and chose those which only needed lightly padded petticoats. Selecting jackets and mantles, gloves and scarves, hats and shoes was one thing, but picking hose and under wear had Betty blushing to the roots of her fair hair. He did not seem to notice, but at least he did not ask her to try them on and parade before him! When he was satisfied he had bought a wardrobe sufficient for the remainder of her journey, he then bought dresses, shoes and under wear for Betty, who blissfully stammered delighted thanks, and having paid for everything and arranged for it to be delivered, he escorted her back to the Slaters’ villa, only to discover Louise was far from well.

  ‘She has taken a chill,’ Mrs Slater told him. ‘But it is hardly to be wondered at, is it? I have dosed her with Godfrey’s cordial. It always helps my little Will.’

  He was surprised at how alarmed he was, how anxious to be of help. He wanted to rush straight up to her room and see for himself how she was. ‘What can I do to help?’ he asked, as Bet
ty slipped away. ‘Have you sent for a doctor?’

  ‘Yes. He has just left.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  She smiled at the young man. Guardian or not, he obviously felt a great deal more for the young lady than he had told her. ‘It is a chill, but if she is kept warm and nourished, she will take no harm’

  ‘Thank goodness for that,’ he said with feeling. ‘I am grateful for your help, Mrs Slater.’

  ‘It is the least I can do. The doctor advised three days in bed and both young ladies are welcome to stay here until Miss Vail is fully recovered.’

  ‘Are you sure it is not too much for you? Shall I engage a nurse for her?’ he asked.

  ‘There is no need. I can nurse her with Betty’s help. What will you do?’

  ‘I shall stay at the inn until we resume our journey. May I go up and see her?’

  Her hesitation was only momentary. Mr Linton was Miss Vail’s guardian and a gentleman in the very best sense. ‘Yes, but do not tire her, sir. She needs to sleep. It is the best cure, do you not think?’

  ‘Indeed. I will not stay long.’ And with that he bounded up the stairs, leaving her smiling.

  Chapter Six

  He tapped lightly on the bedroom door expecting Betty to answer it, but when she did not, lifted the latch and peeped inside. Louise was alone in the room, lying in bed, propped up with pillows. She appeared to be asleep. He knew he ought not to go in, but she looked so wan, so vulnerable, he could not make himself turn away. He crept across the room and sat in a chair beside the bed to watch her.

  She was lovely; her thick curly hair was spread across the pillow and formed a coppery halo. Her long, dark lashes lay on cheeks that were paler than they ought to be. Her mouth was ever-so-slightly ajar, because her cold made breathing difficult. She had thrown back the covers, revealing her nightrail half off one white shoulder. Her bosom rose and fell and he caught a glimpse of the top of one breast. An arm was flung out towards him, palm uppermost. He felt his breath catch in his throat and a strong wave of desire coursed through him. He ought to go, put temptation well out of reach, remember who he was and what he was supposed to be doing on this strange journey. Instead he reached out and put his hand over hers and continued to study her features as if in thrall.

  She stirred sleepily and opened her eyes. Amazing hazel eyes flecked with green met his blue gaze. ‘You came back,’ she murmured.

  ‘Of course I came back.’ He smiled. ‘There is no being rid of me, my sweet, not until all is resolved. You are stuck with me.’

  ‘Oh.’ She tried to sit up, realised she was only half-covered and lay back again, drawing the sheet up to her chin. ‘And that extends to my bedchamber, does it?’ She smiled as she said it, because she was so happy and relieved to see him.

  ‘If you cannot leave it, yes.’ He understood her; it was surprising how well he understood her.

  ‘You do not trust me. You think I might pretend to be ill in order to escape.’

  ‘But you gave me your promise. I assumed you meant it,’ he said.

  ‘I do not break my word.’

  ‘I am glad to hear that. But why must you escape? Is my presence so disagreeable?’ It was asked gently, as if he really wanted to know the answer.

  ‘You know it is not. I have had cause to thank God for it on several occasions in the last few days.’

  ‘Few days,’ he repeated. ‘Is that all it is? It seems like a lifetime.’

  It was like that for her too. The life before this journey seemed a distant dream, the life after it was full of uncertainty. He was the one who held the two together. There was an unseen bond that drew them together, getting tighter with every day, every minute that passed. It was a bond she had to break, if she was to fulfil her errand. But not now. Not yet. Not until…‘Why did you tell Mrs Slater you were my guardian?’

  ‘Would you have me say I had never met you until a few days ago, that I had picked you up on the road? I wanted her to welcome you as a gentlewoman.’

  ‘Oh. What else did you tell her?’

  ‘That you had embarked on the journey as prank and as soon as I heard of it, I set out after you and glad I am that I did, because the trip has certainly not been uneventful. Of course I did not say anything about playing cards and fighting duels, that would have condemned you for ever in her eyes.’

  ‘Thank you for that. Where was I going on this prank of mine?’

  ‘To visit relations in York.’

  ‘But that is the truth,’ she pointed out.

  ‘There is no point in lying if you do not have to, is there?’ It was said with a smile.

  ‘No, but you are not my guardian. That was an untruth.’

  ‘No. Until we reach the end of this voyage of discovery, I am in loco parentis, so it was no lie.’

  It was strange that he should use the phrase voyage of discovery—it exactly described how she felt about it. But he did not know what she was set on discovering, so what was his objective? More searching out of thieves and murderers? Her head was too confused to sort it all out. ‘The whole of life is a journey of discovery,’ she murmured. She was having trouble keeping her eyes open. ‘But why do you want to share mine?’

  ‘Now do you know, I have been asking myself that question and I do not know the answer.’ He stood up, still holding her hand. ‘But you are tired. Today, you rest and tomorrow too, and perhaps the day after that we will resume our discourse on life and fate and what makes us do the things we do. I shall leave you now.’ He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the inside of the palm. ‘But I will be back.’

  She watched him walk across the room and disappear, then shut her eyes. She felt tired beyond imagining, but even in the midst of that, her senses registered that kiss, the butterfly pressure of his lips on the inside of her hand and the strange sensations it aroused in the pit of her stomach. She was too tired to analyse it now, but it left her feeling at peace with herself for the first time for days. She fell asleep with a half-smile on her lips.

  She had a robust constitution and recovered quickly and was soon itching to be up and dressed, but Mrs Slater insisted on keeping her in bed the three days the doctor had ordered and after that allowed her to come downstairs in a dressing gown, one of the many items of clothing Jonathan had procured for her. She had been dismayed when she learned from Betty how much he had bought. It was more than she could ever repay. He told her he did not want repaying; it was little enough to make her respectable again. If he could spend so much, he must be very plump in the pocket. Did it come from his thieftaking exploits? What was behind it all? Why bother with her? She could certainly not bring him a reward.

  It was not only the clothes; he came every day, bringing little presents of flowers, sweetmeats and sugar plums. He was as attentive as any lover, Mrs Slater said, which made Louise smile. The good lady did not know the truth, that he had appointed himself her escort, the reason for which escaped her. And Betty was enjoying herself hugely being squired about by Joe; she did not care if they did not take another step. But Louise did. Mrs Slater had been kindness itself and she appreciated it, but the woman who had beckoned her to ‘come unto me’ still beckoned. The journey had already taken far longer than she had ever anticipated and Mama and Papa back in Barnet would be worrying about her.

  While she had been ill, she had found herself thinking more and more of her life in Chipping Barnet with the loving couple who had brought her up. She remembered happy family occasions, her lessons with her brothers, picnics, learning to ride and shoot and fish and her impatience with sewing and drawing and her mama’s insistence that she should persevere. She remembered especially how she had always been cared for when she had childish ailments, rare occurrences because she was well nourished. How coddled she had been, and her brothers invading her sick room and jollying her along. She missed them all.

  And suddenly she wanted Jonathan to know them and for them to know him, to know how he had looked after her in loco parentis, to use
his own words. Not that he felt a bit like a parent to her, he was far too young for a start, probably little older than Luke, but he didn’t feel like a brother either. She did not know what he was, could not even be sure Jonathan Linton was his real name. All she knew was that he had become part of her life and she would miss him when he had gone. At the end of their voyage of discovery, he had said, and perhaps they would both discover more than they had bargained for.

  At the end of the week, Louise dressed properly for the first time to go down to dinner to which Jonathan had been invited. She wore the green dress he had bought for her. It fitted so well it might have been especially made for her. The stomacher was quilted brocade in a lighter green than the taffeta gown itself. The green of that was as vibrant as newly cut grass and fitted closely into her waist, its open panel revealing a ruched petticoat, edged with cream lace. It had small false hips to accommodate a little padding in her petticoat, which served to emphasise her slim waist and hint at the round curves beneath it. The sleeves were narrow to the elbow and then widened to a cascade of cream lace. The outfit was finished off with green satin slippers, a chicken-skin fan and her only piece of real jewellery, a pearl necklace, brought with her in case she needed to sell it for funds to continue her journey. Her unpowdered hair had been piled up and arranged in curls on top of her head with a few corksrew curls nestling in her neck.

  Jonathan, who was waiting in the drawing room with Mr and Mrs Slater, was bowled over by this apparition of loveliness. Could this be the stripling he had crossed swords with, the hoyden dripping river water, the wan child who lay sick in bed needing comfort? She was all of these and much, much more. Something very strange was happening to him; he was losing his wits. It was better to lose your wits than your heart, he decided. But until he came to his senses, it was a pleasurable state to be in. He smiled and bowed over her hand. ‘My dear, you look lovely. I knew that green would suit you.’