Miss Peterson & The Colonel
By
Fenella J Miller
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any method, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of The Author - Fenella J. Miller
Miss Peterson & The Colonel © Copyright Fenella J. Miller, 2016
This e-Book is a work of fiction. While references may be made to actual places or events, the names, characters, incidents, and locations within are from the author’ s imagination and are not a resemblance to actual living or dead persons, businesses, or events. Any similarity is coincidental.
COVER DESIGN BY JANE DIXON-SMITH
For Rachel, Hannah & Emma Bevan.
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Chapter One
Lydia grabbed at the strap as the carriage tilted but failed to stop her undignified slide into the well. Her maid landed heavily on top of her. For a moment she lay winded, unable to move.
'I beg your pardon, miss, I couldn't stop myself from falling.'
'It's not your fault, Martha. I think we must have broken an axle. I sincerely hope the horses are unharmed.' With some difficulty she extricated herself and stood up. 'At least we are both in one piece. If I balance on the edge of the seat I believe I might manage to open the door.' She attempted the manoeuvre and the coach rocked alarmingly.
'Please don't do that, Miss Peterson. You'll likely have us right over.'
'Why doesn't Jim come to our aid? Do you think he's taken a tumble from the box. As Billy has gone ahead to order our refreshments he cannot assist. I must get out.'
This time her struggles sent the coach crashing right over. Her world turned upside down, her legs and arms became entangled with Martha's and it was several minutes before she was able to get both of them upright. The doors were now the floor and ceiling, the squabs pointing into the air. The sound of her precious horses panicking meant she had no option. If she did not get out and release them from the harness one would likely break a leg.
Martha screamed and pointed down. Lydia saw water seeping in through the door that now acted as the floor. They must have turned over into the ditch that ran alongside the road. 'Hold onto something, Martha. I think if I could step on your knee I might reach the door handle somehow.'
Her smart travelling ensemble was ruined, the hem already saturated with muddy water and her spencer in no better case. Her lovely new bonnet was hanging in disarray around her neck. Her sister had been most insistent she dressed in her best to meet the colonel, as the much longed for visitor was to arrive today as well. She was not going to impress anyone now.
The whinnying and stamping from the team had stopped. Was this a good or bad sign? Before she had time to consider, the door above her head was slammed back and a gentleman appeared in the space. His features were indistinct, but from his voice he was obviously well-to-do.
'Why couldn't you stay still, ladies? You have turned a minor accident into a major disaster. I have released your horses and attended to your coachman, however, now that you've managed to tip the carriage over there is nothing I can do to get you out without assistance. You must stay inside.'
The incredibly rude gentleman vanished as suddenly as he'd appeared, leaving Lydia up to her boot tops in freezing water. 'Come back here this instant, sir. You cannot abandon us in here.'
He slammed his fist against the carriage and shouted back. 'I cannot right the vehicle unaided, and can't pull you out through the door. You will come to no harm, the ditch is shallow, I shall be back as soon as I can.'
Then he was gone, only the sound of hoofbeats echoing in the cold winter air to keep her company. This was no gentleman. He had callously left her and Martha without making a serious attempt to rescue them. He could be gone hours. What about poor Jim possibly unconscious on the side of the road?
She would not remain incarcerated a moment longer.
'Martha, let me stand on your knee. If you brace yourself against the seat I'm certain I can scramble out.'
'It's a good thing you're not as short as me, miss. I'd not reach if I tried.'
With her maid as a stool, she grasped the edges of the open door. 'Martha, give me a push.'
Her feet were grasped firmly and she rose steadily. Throwing herself forward, she tipped headlong through the door and slithered, skirts and petticoats flying, down the side to land with a thud in the road. 'I'm out, Martha. I shall come back to you in a moment. I must check on Jim and the horses first.'
Three of the team were standing dejectedly in the shelter of the hedge that bordered the lane. There was no sign of Jim and the fourth horse. Good grief! The wretched man had used the lead horse to convey her coachman. Surely it would have been better to wait until a cart could be brought round?
Too late to repine. She must get Martha out and her precious chestnuts to shelter. The White Queen could be no more than two miles away; that must be where her would-be rescuer had gone for help. The thought of him returning and castigating her a second time prompted her to take matters into her own hands.
'Martha, if I lower the reins to you, you must take hold of them. I shall attach the other end to one of the horses. I think it will be possible to pull you out.'
'I shall do my best, miss, but I'm a fair weight. I reckon they might not hold.'
With ingenuity and the help of Rufus, the most amenable of the remaining three horses, Martha emerged through the door a short while later. Lydia held her maid's boots and guided her to the ground. 'We are only a brief ride from the hostelry. If I lead you do you think you could stay on board Rufus for that short distance?'
Martha viewed the animal with disfavour but nodded. 'I reckon even riding that beast is better than standing around here getting frozen to the marrow.'
Less than half an hour later Lydia arrived at her destination, leading one horse with her maid upon it and the spare horse following behind. Her sidesaddle had been stored under the box and she'd managed to remove it. Rufus had shown no objection when she'd placed it on his back. Fortunately her travelling gown was wide enough to allow her to preserve her modesty.
Martha scrambled down. 'If you don’t mind, I shall remain here, Miss Peterson, until someone comes for me.'
Two ostlers ran forward to take the horses and Lydia gave them coins from her reticule. Turning to her maid, she smiled sympathetically. 'Here, take my purse. There's more than enough to pay for a private parlour and a chamber. I'm going to ride the remaining distance to London and fetch assistance. It's no more than five miles; it won't take me too long.'
Lydia had no intention of setting off unaccompanied and was relieved to see her errant groom who had gone ahead to order refreshments, hurrying across to greet her. 'Billy, is Jim badly hurt?'
'He's broke his arm and had a knock on the head, but he's been attended to.'
'And that obnoxious gentleman, is he here?'
'The gentleman ain't, no miss. He set off a few minutes ago with a diligence and half a dozen men to right the carriage and rescue you. He left from the lane at the back otherwise you would have seen him.'
Her abigail was bound to see to Jim; this meant she was free to leave. The irascible gentleman would not be pleased she had already left the scene of the accident. 'Saddle Pegasus and then we can leave immediately. Lady Grayson is expecting me. Lord Grayson will no doubt arrange to collect Martha, Jim and the baggage.'
In less than an hour she cantered through
the archway and into the stable yard at the back of her sister's smart townhouse. She was sadly dishevelled but there was nothing she could do about it. Leaving Billy to attend to the horses, she hurried in through a side door. Ellen would understand and allow her to remain away from Colonel Wescott until her trunks arrived.
Using the back stairs, she hurried to the apartment she always used. Fortunately she kept several changes of raiment here so she could remove her ruined garments before explaining to her sister and brother-in-law what had transpired. Seeing her in such disarray might upset Ellen and that would not do so late in the pregnancy.
Edward, Lord Grayson, found the whole tale amusing and immediately sent his carriage to rescue Martha and Sam. 'Reynolds, my man of business, will take care of everything for you, my dear. Rest assured, your vehicle will be restored to you in pristine condition before you return to Bracken Hall.'
Ellen was less easily placated. 'Lydia, why is it that disaster follows in your wake? Please promise me you will not become embroiled in any further such happenings during your visit? I do so wish you and dear Simon to be friends.'
'Where is he? I thought he would be here today.'
'He has been delayed: he will not reach us until this evening. You can wait until tomorrow to be introduced, my dear. After so much excitement I'm sure you will wish to eat in your room tonight.' Ellen tilted her cheek for a kiss. 'I have never been sanguine about Edward allowing you to live as you please. He is your guardian after all.'
'And an excellent one he is too. David will reach his majority in the summer and be able to take over.'
Her sister laughed. 'Poppycock, my love. The poor boy will continue to do as you bid.' Ellen raised a hand to prevent Lydia's denial. 'I know you pretend to follow his wishes on the small points, but we both know it is you that hold the reins.'
'As long as both he and Edward are content then why should I wish to change things?'
'Run along, my love. It would not do to be seen as you are. I warn you, Simon is not so easily disarmed. He is a man used to command. Indeed, he can be quite fierce sometimes.'
'Then I shall not like him. If he is not kind to you…'
'Good heavens, you have got me wrong. Simon is a dear boy, a perfect gentleman. I was referring to his dealing with his men. Edward has told me much about it.'
'Then I shall make my own mind up when we meet. No, do not get up. I shall see myself out.' She stooped to kiss her sister and hurried to the rooms she always used on her visits to Town.
The last thing she wanted was to meet this hero of Waterloo dressed as she was. Although it might be the sensible thing to do, in her outmoded gown he would no doubt take one look at her and decide she was a dowd. She might not wish to marry him but did not intend to give him reason to take her in dislike.
She was certain both Ellen and Edward wanted them to make a match of it but she had no plans to give up her independence to a soldier, indeed to any man. She had her stud farm to run with her brother David and no man could ever equal the love she had for her horses.
*
The next morning she dressed quickly and hurried down, hoping to slip outside and see for herself that her chestnuts were none the worse for their adventure.
Foster, the elderly butler, greeted her politely. 'I trust you have recovered from your eventful journey, Miss Peterson. Lord Grayson is in the drawing room. He requests that you join him at your convenience.'
'Thank you, Foster. How is your rheumatism this winter? I expect the cold weather has been plaguing you.'
The grey-haired gentleman almost smiled. 'I've not been too bad, Miss Peterson. The damp and cold sets it off but thankfully we have had a relatively dry winter.'
Lydia paused to admire the spacious entrance hall. As always it was warm and welcoming, the chequered floor immaculate, the grand staircase freshly waxed and not a cobweb in sight. She wished she could say the same about Bracken Hall. Her interests lay outside the house and her housekeeper Dorcas, bless her, was a trifle short-sighted.
No doubt Edward wished to tell her what had transpired after she'd left The White Queen yesterday. She hurried toward the drawing room, halting in the doorway. Edward was not alone; another gentleman stood beside him and they were deep in conversation.
Colonel Wescott had risen far earlier than one might have expected. She took this opportunity to study him unobserved. He was unmistakably Edward's brother, but where the older man's features were soft everything about the colonel was the opposite. He was a head taller and his shoulders broader, but his face intrigued her. His skin was tanned, his teeth a flash of white as he spoke. His nose was sharp, uncompromising, his eyebrows a slash of black above his deep set eyes.
What colour were they? Did he have pale blue eyes like his brother's or some other shade more in keeping with his fierce demeanour?
She coughed politely and they turned to stare at her. Their reaction could not have been more different. Edward advanced, smiling, to greet her. His brother stiffened and then raked her with a glance which obviously found her wanting.
'My dear girl, see who is here. You will not believe what I have to tell you.'
Lydia flushed. Something about Colonel Wescott was horribly familiar.
'Come, let me introduce you to my brother.' Edward's tone was bland, but his eyes were brimming with amusement. 'I rather think you two have already met.'
Reluctantly, she turned to the formidable gentleman. Keeping her eyes lowered, she curtsied, glancing through her lashes as she did so. He bowed but he was quite definitely glowering at her. Despite her trepidation, she noticed his eyes were an unusual shade, the blue so dark as to be almost black.
'I'm delighted to meet you again, Miss Peterson. I would have been even more delighted if you had remained in your carriage as instructed and not sent me on a fool's errand yesterday.'
'You, sir, were most unpleasant. I had no idea who you were, and felt it expedient to ride at once to the home of my sister.' She gave him glare for glare. 'The fact that I, a mere female, was able to get myself and my maid out safely indicates that you deliberately left us where we were in order to punish us for tipping the carriage over.'
For a moment the matter hung in the balance, then the colonel bowed and she thought she saw a flicker of admiration in his eyes. Thinking it best to change the subject, she forced her lips into a smile and said the first thing that came into her head.
'I believe you to be the first hero of the Peninsula I have met. It must be a great relief to you that Bonaparte is safely captured.'
He raised an eyebrow as if surprised. 'Exactly so; it is to be hoped that he remains on Elba. The country has been at war for too many years.'
There was an awkward pause. Why didn't Edward step in with some commonplace remark? Then she realized her brother-in-law had wandered to the far end of the room, leaving her alone to smooth things over with this formidable soldier.
'Are you on leave for long, sir?'
'I have three months, unless I'm called back. I intend to take the time to find an estate. However, my first task is to replace the horse I lost at the last battle.'
That was something she could help him with. She'd supplied several horses to military gentleman in the past. 'I might have exactly what you're looking for, Colonel Wescott. I can send…'
His lips thinned. His annoyance was barely contained and his expression frosty. 'I thank you for your offer, Miss Peterson, but I'm sure I shall manage to acquire what I want without a young lady's assistance.'
She swallowed back her angry retort. What a disagreeable man! He must know she was an expert in the matter of horseflesh; after all had she not demonstrated this yesterday? The splendid matching chestnuts that pulled her carriage were from her own stud and the excellent bays Edward owned had been selected by her.
Her first opinion of this gentleman had been correct. He was objectionable. Ignoring the colonel, she called out to her brother-in-law. 'Edward, if you will excuse me, I must go upstairs. I have
promised to spend time with Ellen and my nephews this morning.'
His expression of relief was quite comical. He must have believed he was about to become embroiled in a disagreement between herself and his unpleasant brother. It was certainly an unfortunate coincidence that she and the colonel had met in such a way, but it changed nothing. He was arrogant, autocratic and not half as nice as Edward. She was sorely tempted to find an excuse to return immediately to Bracken Hall.
*
The evening was much as she had expected. Lydia was so used to speaking her mind on politics or other matters, she found it impossible to remain silent. Frequently she interjected in the gentlemen's discussion and her shin was sore from the kicks she received each time from Ellen.
By the time they rose to leave the gentlemen to their port Lydia was aware she and Simon Westcott were of a similar mind. They held each other in cordial dislike. He, no doubt, thought her opinionated and unfeminine, but she knew him to be overbearing and arrogant.
So matters were equal on that score.
No sooner was the door closed behind them than her sister turned to her in distress. 'Lydia, what were you thinking of? Could you not see how much you were annoying Simon? We did so wish you to get on.'
Lydia embraced her. 'I apologize, my love. I know you and Edward intended us to make a match. It would never do, you know. We disliked each other on sight. I'm afraid you and Edward must forget your machinations. I'll do my best to be civil to him but shall avoid his company when I can. After all, I'm here to spend time with you and the boys not wait for an offer from Simon Westcott.'
Chapter Two
Lydia managed to remain apart from her new relative by spending her days with her nephews and her sister. She exercised her mare at dawn before anyone had risen, riding to the nearby park where they could both let off pent-up energy. However, she had no option but to dine with him each evening. She spent far longer than usual on her toilette, determined not to give him any reason to find fault with her.
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