Bedford Street Brigade 02 - Love Unbidden

by Laura Landon

  The young boy looked at the coin in his hand and smiled. “I’ll rub him down real good, sir. You can count on me.”

  Hugh smiled, then turned to the Ale and Inn. It was late and he was tired, but more importantly, he was running out of time. According to her cousin, Lady Lorna was a spoiled, high-strung lady, who’d gotten cold feet a week before her wedding and bolted. After much persuasion, her intended had agreed to forgive her and go ahead with the wedding, if Hugh found her and brought her back. The Marquess of Chillbrooke gave Hugh four weeks to find her and bring her back to London.

  Hugh opened the door to the Ale and Inn and stepped inside. The heat from the fire in the main room was welcome, and he took a chair at a table near the hearth.

  “What can I get you?” a middle-aged woman with a friendly smile on her face asked.

  “Ale, please. And something warm to eat, Mrs….?”

  “Grady. Maude Grady. My husband and I own the Ale and Inn.”

  “Glad to meet you, Mrs. Grady. My name is Baxter. Hugh Baxter.”

  “Welcome to the Ale and Inn,” she said with a welcoming smile. “I’ve got some stew on the stove. I’ll get your ale, then dish you up a bowl.”

  “Thank you.”

  Hugh removed his hat and gloves, then hung his coat on a hook on the wall while Mrs. Grady went for the ale. When he returned to his chair, his ale was sitting on the scarred table.

  “You’re not from these parts, are you?” Mrs. Grady asked.

  “No, I’m from London.”

  “That’s a fair piece from here.”

  “Yes.” Hugh lifted the ale and took a drink. “I’m on an errand for a friend,” he volunteered.

  “An errand?”

  “Yes. I’ve come to meet my friend’s sister.”

  “You were to meet her here?” she asked.

  “Actually, I’d hoped to meet her before I reached here. I’m afraid I may have missed her.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Miss Lorna Willis.”

  Mrs. Grady shook her head. “Don’t know anyone by that name.”

  “She has red hair and blue eyes. And she’s traveling alone.”

  Mrs. Grady’s eyebrows lifted. “It’s not wise for a young female to travel alone.”

  “That’s what I told her brother,” Hugh lied, “but her traveling companion fell ill, and Miss Willis is as stubborn as her brother and refused to turn back.”

  There was something in the look on Mrs. Grady’s face that said she might have seen Lorna Willis. Hugh’s heart beat faster. “Have you seen Miss Willis, Mrs. Grady?”

  “I might have.”

  “When?”

  “Not so long ago.”

  Hugh steadied his voice. He didn’t want to seem over anxious. “I’d appreciate any help you can give me, Mrs. Grady. I hate to think what dangers my friend’s sister may have encountered. Traveling alone isn’t safe for anyone, especially someone so young and inexperienced.”

  “That’s what I thought when I first seen her.”

  “When was that?” Hugh clenched his fingers around his mug of ale.

  “About an hour ago,” Mrs. Grady added.

  “Is she still here?”

  Mrs. Grady’s eyes narrowed and she studied him for several long seconds. “I won’t let any harm come to the lass, Mr. Baxter. She looked more than a mite weary from her travels. She doesn’t need any more trouble than she’s already suffered.”

  “I intend her no harm, ma’am. I only want to see that she’s safely escorted to her family.”

  “That had better be your intent. My husband is a fair shot with a rifle and he won’t take kindly to you bothering her.”

  “The lady has nothing to fear from me.”

  Mrs. Grady studied him for several more long grilling seconds, then gave her head a sharp nod. “There’s a private dining room through that door,” she said, glancing to her left. “I’ll bring your stew in there.”

  Hugh looked to where she’d indicated, then slid his chair back and stood. “Thank you, Mrs. Grady. I appreciate your trust.”

  “See that I don’t regret being taken in by that handsome face and charming smile of yours, Mr. Baxter. I don’t take kindly to anyone lying to me.”

  When Mrs. Grady turned away from him, Hugh grabbed his tankard of ale and made his way to the door the proprietress indicated. He didn’t rush across the wooden floor, but walked slowly to make sure his footsteps didn’t appear threatening. If at all possible, he intended to avoid frightening her.

  Hugh stopped at the open doorway and looked inside.

  There was no doubt in his mind that the young woman before him was Lady Lorna Willis. Her coloring was exactly as her cousin had said when he’d described her. Hair a vivid shade of red that curled naturally and sprang in every direction possible. She was slightly built, with a full bust and narrow waist.

  Although she didn’t appear as unattractive as her cousin had made her out to be, she wasn’t what anyone in society would call a beauty. Her hair wasn’t the disgusting shade of red Lord Chillbrooke had described, but a richer color that might be called auburn.

  Hugh couldn’t look into her eyes to see if they were the cold blue her cousin had described; eyes Chillbrooke said could stare straight through you.

  She sat hunched in exhaustion, with her hands limp in her lap. Her head drooped as if its weight were too heavy to hold upright and her complexion was as pale as the clouds hanging low in the winter sky.

  He couldn’t imagine how she’d done it, but the fragile-looking woman had traveled halfway across England alone in the dead of winter. An emotion Hugh couldn’t explain took hold of him when he thought of what she’d endured and it seemed terribly important to find out why she considered marriage to the well-respected Marquess of Burlingdon so reprehensible that she’d risked her life to avoid being his wife.

  Hugh took a deep breath, then stepped into the room.

  She didn’t hear his first footstep, nor his second. But her body jerked to alertness when he took the third step toward her.

  Her head turned and she stared at him with eyes wide with terror.

  “Lady Lorna?”

  With a startled cry, she pushed back her chair and bolted to her feet. Her eyes darted from one side of the room to the other, as if looking for a way to escape. When she realized there was none, she took a step back, as if that would protect her from him.

  She didn’t move for several long moments. Neither did she seem to breathe. Finally, she sucked in an unsteady breath, then closed her eyes.

  And crumpled to the floor.

  Hugh darted toward her. Thankfully, he reached her before her head slammed into the hard floor.

  “What did you do to the lass?” Mrs. Grady demanded from over his shoulder.

  “I don’t think the lady was as captivated by my handsome face and charming smile as you were, Mrs. Grady. She fainted at the sight of me.”

  Hugh scooped Lady Lorna into his arms. “Perhaps you could show us to a room.”

  Mrs. Grady rushed out the door.

  Hugh followed her up the stairs and down a long hallway. When they reached the last room, she opened the door and rushed to the bed.

  “This was my youngest daughter’s room. Put her down here,” she said, turning back the covers on the bed.

  Hugh laid her down, then stepped back to let Mrs. Grady take over.

  “Did she arrive with any luggage?” he asked.

  “She had a bag. I’ll send it up later. I’ve got some night clothes my girls wore that will fit her. At least they’ll be clean and warm.” Mrs. Grady placed her hand on Lady Lorna’s forehead, then shook her head. “She’s burning with fever. It’s no wonder, what with ’er walking in weather like this and going without proper food. I knew the minute she walked in she was nearly dead on her feet.”

  “Did she say anything when she arrived?”

  Mrs. Grady shook her head. “She just asked for a cup ’o tea, and said she didn’t
have coin to pay for it, so offered to work in the kitchen to pay for something to eat.”

  A knot tightened in Hugh’s stomach. He wondered how long she’d gone without food. Or proper shelter.

  Mrs. Grady rose from Lady Lorna’s side and went to a clothes chest. She pulled out a plain flannel night rail. “I’ll get this on her and tuck her into bed, but I don’t have the time to care for her proper like. If my girls were still here they could help, but the last one got married last spring and Mr. Grady and I have been working the inn by ourselves since.”

  “Don’t worry,” Hugh said, casting a glance at the bed. “I’ll take care of the lady.”

  “It ain’t proper,” she said with a shake of her head, “but I don’t see any other way.” She walked to the door. “I’ll be right back with some tea and a couple of bowls of that stew you wanted. See if you can’t get something in her. She needs the nourishment.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Grady.”

  The woman gave a sharp nod, then left him alone.

  Hugh stared at the fragile female on the bed, then walked to the fireplace to light a fire. This isn’t how he’d imagined finding her. Nor was she what he expected when he’d set out to find her.

  From the description her cousin had provided, Hugh expected a shrew whose lethal tongue could rip a man to shreds.

  What he found was a courageous wisp of a lass who was desperate to escape a horrible future.

  Hugh was consumed by doubts and misgivings. His gut instinct told him that Lady Lorna Willis’s cousin’s motives might not be the act of kindness he’d been led to believe they were.

  CHAPTER 2

  Hugh stood at the side of the bed and watched as she slept. During the past three days, she’d thrown off her covers when her fever raged, then shivered uncontrollably when chills overtook her.

  Several times during the past three days he feared she might not survive, but she was still alive. He was more hopeful today than he’d been yesterday. She didn’t seem as restless as she’d been earlier.

  More than once he’d tried to force her to take nourishment, but she’d refused. The one time he had gotten a bit of broth into her mouth, she’d choked, then spit it back up. Since then, he’d only tried to get her to drink water or tea.

  “How’s the lass doing?” Mrs. Grady asked when she entered the room.

  Hugh tucked the covers beneath her chin. “About the same, although for a while I had my doubts she’d be here this morning.”

  “I thought the same,” she said placing a large platter of eggs and bacon and toasted bread on a table beside him. “There’s warm broth in that pot in case she wakes enough that you can get something down her.”

  “I’ll try, but she didn’t keep down anything I gave her earlier long enough for it to do any good.”

  When Mrs. Grady finished arranging the food she’d brought up, she turned to leave. “The lass is lucky you found her when you did,” she said before she opened the door. “Call if you need anything.”

  With a soft push, the door closed and Hugh was left alone with Lady Lorna Willis.

  He watched her while he ate the food Mrs. Grady brought him. He still couldn’t believe that she’d been brave enough to venture this far from London alone. The bag she had with her sat in the corner. Mrs. Grady had laundered the single change of clothes it contained. Other than a few intimate items, there was nothing of any value: a brush to tame her hair; a small oval portrait of what appeared to be her mother and father. And a small pistol. But there was nothing valuable. No money. No jewels. Nothing she could pawn to provide her with food to eat, or a night’s lodging.

  When Hugh finished his meal he rinsed a cloth in the fresh water on the bedside stand, and placed it on her forehead. The moment the cool cloth came in contact with her fevered flesh, she jerked beneath him. Her eyes opened wide and she looked at him with a startled expression. Before he could react, she fought to push him away from her.

  “No!” she cried.

  Her voice was raspy and hoarse, but the terror he heard in that one word clutched at his heart. He pinned her arms at her sides and held her.

  “Don’t worry, Lorna. You’re safe. No one will hurt you.”

  She thrashed beneath him, struggling to break his hold.

  Whether she realized what she was doing, or was reacting out of the survival instincts that had gotten her this far, he wasn’t sure. But she exhibited an amazing amount of strength in her efforts to escape.

  “No! Don’t…touch…me!”

  “I won’t hurt you. I knew your father. He wanted me to find you.”

  She stilled. “Papa?” Tears filled her eyes. “Oh, Papa. Help me. Please, help me.”

  Hugh sat on the bed and held her hands in his. “I’m here to help you, Lorna.”

  She calmed. “I’m so frightened, Papa.”

  Hugh swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I know you are. But I’m here now. I’ll take care of you.”

  “Don’t leave me again, Papa. Promise?”

  Hugh brushed the backs of his fingers down her damp cheek. “I promise, Lorna.”

  Her breathing slowed. Finally she released a shuddering sigh, then closed her eyes and slept.

  . . .

  Lorna woke in stages. Even though she didn’t see him, she knew he was here. He’d been here since she’d gotten ill.

  She opened her eyes, then closed them again. She knew he was near. His male presence was more powerful than any man she’d ever been around. She felt it in his touch, heard it in his voice, and saw it in the few glimpses she had of him.

  She thought of the endless hours he’d spent caring for her. The intimate acts he’d helped her perform. Her cheeks turned hot with embarrassment. She wasn’t sure she could face him. But she knew she didn’t have that choice.

  She opened her eyes again and searched the room. Her breath caught when she found him.

  He stood by the window, tall and commanding. His broad shoulders and magnificent form filled the opening and blocked the sunlight from filtering into the room.

  She evaluated the outline of his physique. His long, muscled legs were firmly planted in a wide stance, and he held one outstretched hand braced against the window frame. His pose pulled the fabric of his white lawn shirt tight across his broad shoulders. It was evident that he was powerfully built, more exquisitely formed than any male of her acquaintance.

  The sleeves of his shirt were rolled midway to his elbows, his muscled forearms exposed enough for her to notice a shadow of dark hair.

  His waistcoat hung over the back of the chair along with his excellently tailored jacket. He wore only a shirt and slacks. His shirt hung open at the neck, exposing enough of his chest that she could see a dark patch of hair in the V below his neck.

  An unfamiliar stirring shifted inside her chest. She wasn’t sure what it was, since she’d never experienced such a sensation before. She told herself that no doubt it was the fact that she was alone in a room with a stranger while wearing nothing more than a thin night robe.

  She lifted her eyes to study more of him. That’s when her gaze locked with his and she realized he’d been watching her.

  “I’m glad to see you’re awake,” he said as he stepped closer to the bed. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Yes. Please.”

  Lorna hated that her voice sounded so weak. Hated more that saying those few words took such effort.

  He poured some water into a glass and held it to her lips. She drank two swallows, then coughed. The water spewed from her mouth and he pressed a dry cloth to her mouth.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered as she gasped for air.

  “Don’t be.” He sat in the chair beside the bed. “I’m glad you’re awake enough to drink. I was afraid you’d decided to sleep until spring.”

  “How long have I been ill?”

  He smiled and that strange knot inside her chest shifted again. This time the shift resembled a jolt.

  “Five days. How m
uch do you remember before that?”

  Lorna thought. “I remember walking. And being cold.” She closed her eyes. “And hungry.”

  A wave of panic crashed into her. She was running away from her cousin. She stared at the stranger. He knew who she was. He’d called her by name. Her cousin must have hired him to find her.

  She made an attempt to rise from the bed, but she was too weak to lift even an arm. And even if she could have found the strength to rise, he was at the bed before she could shift beneath the covers.

  “Lie still. I won’t harm you.”

  Lorna didn’t believe him. She couldn’t. “Of course you won’t. Killing me now would ruin everything.”

  . . .

  Hugh sat in the chair at her bedside with his legs stretched out before him. He was glad Mrs. Grady had brought a tankard of ale when she’d come with a tray. He needed it.

  What the bloody hell did she mean when she said that killing her now would ruin everything? Why on earth would she think her life was in danger?

  He lifted the tankard to his lips and took another swallow as Lady Lorna shifted beneath the covers. She was waking and he was glad. Maybe she’d be stronger now than she’d been earlier. Her fever had broken early in the day, and he’d managed to get a few swallows of water down her without her spitting them back up. But she hadn’t stayed alert enough to answer any questions. Hopefully, she would this time.

  “Are you still here?” he heard her whisper.

  “Yes, I’m still here.”

  “I hoped you were only a dream…and would be gone when I woke.”

  Hugh rose to light another lamp. He set it on the table beside her bed, then poured some water into a glass. “Here, drink this.”

  He lifted her to a sitting position and let her drink from the glass. “Are you strong enough to sit for a while? You need to eat some of the broth Mrs. Grady brought up earlier. You need the nourishment.”

  “Is that her name? Mrs. Grady?”

  “Yes. She and her husband own the Ale and Inn.”

  Hugh dipped a spoon into the broth and brought it to her mouth. She ate it, but winced when she swallowed. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Yes. My throat just isn’t used to having to work.”