But it must have been right. When she caught his eyes, he smiled. No. Not a smile. He grinned. It was insolent and inappropriate.
Without even thinking, she grinned back at him, then they both looked hurriedly away. She straightened her clothing; he polished his spectacles.
And then he said, ‘I do not think it wise that I join you, after what just occurred. That is, if you do not wish…’
‘I do not wish to be cold or alone, either,’ she said firmly. ‘And in the hay, there are likely to be…other residents. Vermin, perhaps, or adders.’
‘And that frightens you?’
Of course it didn’t. It would be unpleasant, of course, but it was foolish to worry about things that were so small. But for once, she managed to answer correctly. ‘Yes, the very idea terrifies me.’
He let out a bark of laughter to show that he did not believe her in the least, then he stood up and took the blanket from her. ‘Of course I shall share a haystack with you, Lady Drusilla. I would not dream of leaving you, a frail female, alone and afraid.’ They walked back to the hay and he took the blanket from her, spreading it out to make a kind of nest for them. Then he climbed up and helped her up beside him. And added, more quietly, ‘At the very least, I will come to see what you look like when frightened. In my experience, it must be a rare thing.’
‘Not really,’ she admitted. ‘But I have found there is little point in displaying such emotions. Fear is invariably used against one by those who sense it. In the end, one is worse off than before.’
He made a noise, low in his throat, like a beast growling at an intruder, then he pulled her to him, so that she could form herself around the bumps and hollows of his body. They were as close as pieces of a puzzle. ‘You need have no fear of showing your true colours to me, Dru. You are safe, as are your secrets.’
She felt something deep inside of her relax, as though she’d kept a spring coiled tight and just now released it. Had she really been frightened, all this time? ‘Mr Hendricks,’ she said, testing her newfound bravery.
‘Yes, my lady?’ If he was trying to go back to the way it had been before, when he was nothing more than a solicitous servant, he was not quite succeeding. Though his words seemed innocent enough, there was an added depth to them, as though he meant something quite different.
‘If I had not hired you…’ she wet her lips ‘…would you still have helped me? I know I trapped you into accompanying me, at least a little way. But there was no real need. Even from the first, you could have exposed the lie.’
‘Of course I would have helped you. While the offer of remuneration was certainly welcome, I could not have left a woman in need.’ He smiled. ‘And while you might not like to admit it, you had need of me.’
‘Oh.’ As always, her voice sounded gruffer than she wished. And the tone, which Priss would have called her schoolmistress voice, hid the little stab of joy she felt.
Then she stifled it. Of course he would have helped her. He was a gentleman, after all—not rich or titled like her father. But in the sense that he had proper manners, and respect for the fairer sex.
As though he had guessed her next question, he said, ‘If you are now thinking that I would have treated any woman I found just the same, then the answer is, no, I would not. I would never have abandoned a lady in distress. And once my services were engaged, I was bound to do as you wished. But there are some things that cannot be commanded, by manners or money. Robbing a coach, for instance. It would take an exceptionally persuasive woman to achieve that.’
She took a deep breath and said, ‘And what happened after?’
‘That was something I did by choice, not out of a sense of obligation to anyone.’ He tipped his head to the side and looked at her. ‘While I might kiss some women on a whim, it is unusual to be so moved by the presence of another that I lose all common sense. Nor do I usually take to…grooming horses…to keep the incident from getting totally out of control.’
She stifled another sudden smile, glad that it was dark and he was close by. He seemed to understand her, and she would not be required to explain herself. For she hardly knew where to begin.
His arm draped easily over her side now, holding her with more tenderness than passion. ‘What happened was not about money, or duty. It was something very special; I doubt it would have happened had you been here with another, or had I. Do you understand?’
She gave a slight nod; they were so close that he must feel the motion of it against his shoulder.
‘And you do not have to be worry that it will go any further. You are safe with me, just as you were before.’
Safe. Then clearly he knew less about the situation than she did. For there had been nothing safe between them from the first moment they had been alone together. But the lack of safety bothered her less than her reaction to it. She had never felt so alive and so strangely happy.
From now on, when she looked at Mr Hendricks with one eye she could still find the quiet, responsible man in spectacles that would follow her instructions to a T. But with the other, she saw a highway robber, a devil-may-care rogue, up for any challenge, who might help a lady politely down from a coach only as an excuse to urge her to impropriety. And instead of giving him the disapproving sermon he deserved, her heart fluttered with excitement.
‘I wish to ask you a question as well.’
She knew the sort of questions that a gentleman should ask, once they had behaved as Mr Hendricks had with her. He meant to offer. She was sure of it. And if he did, she would say yes to him. It would be quite impossible, for her father would never permit them to be together. But no matter what happened when they returned to London, tonight she would tell him the truth of her feelings. ‘After the last few days, I think you are entitled to any answers you wish,’ she said, trying to sound soft and approachable.
‘After all that has happened, are you still intent on going to Scotland to find and retrieve your friend?’
She tried to hide her disappointment. Though her goal was the most important thing, she did not really wish to speak of it now. ‘Yes. I am not bothered in the least by the difficulties we have had. And we do seem to be gaining on them, do we not? This stop is not putting us too far behind?’ If dallying in the arms of Mr Hendricks had lost her a sister, it would be difficult to forgive herself. But was it so wrong to wish for just a small share of what Priss took for granted?
‘I suspect we shall be quite close behind them, once we take to the main road again,’ he assured her. ‘But you understand that this means they have not been hurrying towards their goal. They have not hesitated to take meals together where people can see them. And they spend their nights at an inn and not on the road.’
She had known, of course. But she had not wished to think about it.
‘The lady involved is hopelessly compromised. A gentleman would have only one honourable course of action towards her. And was I not pledged to aid you in stopping the marriage, I would feel honour-bound to make him go through with it for the sake of the girl.’
‘I understand.’ She put her hands between them, flat on his chest to feel the beat of his heart. It was steady and true and a great comfort. ‘But you will help me, just as you promised? Because they cannot marry. I will not allow it.’
His body stiffened under her hands and he let out his breath in a slow exhalation, as though he had kept it in check to hear her words. When he spoke, his voice was placid. ‘Of course, my lady. If you truly wish it, it will be so.’
He sounded like her servant again. She had done something wrong, or failed some test. But she had no idea what the mistake might have been.
‘Tell me about this Mr Gervaise that we are seeking.’ And he had changed again. This time, it was his voice that was gruff, like the growling of a dog when meeting a rival. The sheer masculinity of it ma
de the hair on the back of her neck prickle.
She thought for a moment, searching for a way to answer the question without revealing too many of the details of Priss’s embarrassing flight from home. ‘Mr Gervaise is a most pleasant gentleman,’ she said. And then added, ‘I believe he is a French viscount.’ That was most likely a complete invention. For all she knew Gerard Gervaise had been born plain Gerry Jarvis.
Mr Hendricks grunted in disgust.
‘He ran from France when Boney came to power,’ she assured him, fearing that he thought that her family was consorting with the enemy.
‘How very tragic for him,’ Hendricks allowed in a flat voice. ‘And yet it is romantic in just the way that ladies appreciate. They think a French title is better than none at all. He is wealthy as well, I suppose?’
‘A man of independent means,’ she hedged. For wasn’t his temporary employment a form of independence? Mr Hendricks was similarly self-reliant, now that she thought of it.
The independent man next to her grunted again. ‘And I’ll wager he is handsome as well.’
‘Very.’ That at least she could answer with sincerity. ‘He is a little taller than you, well formed and with clear dark eyes and features that manage to be both strong and fine. He is quite charming as well. And an excellent dancer.’ Of course, his profession required that of him. But his looks and manners were an asset. Taking it all into account, she could not blame her impressionable sister for running away with him.
‘And the woman he is with?’
‘Of no consequence,’ she said hurriedly. The last person she wished to discuss, when a man was holding her in his arms, was her prettier and more charming sister. He would see her soon enough and note the differences between them. If her luck continued as it had so far, his attention to her would evaporate like a morning mist in the face of the sunny blonde delicacy that was Priss.
‘I would find it difficult to live with myself if our actions in parting them caused her hardship or disgrace.’
‘Do not worry about her,’ Dru added hurriedly. ‘I will see to it that she is back in the fold of her family by the end of the week.’ With the doors and windows locked to prevent any more nonsense. ‘If we manage to keep the trip a secret, her honour will be untouched.’ Because appearance was all. ‘And after?’
‘After?’ Mr Hendricks said dully, as though he had not thought that there would be an end to the trip.
‘Your plans, as I remember them, were somewhat vague when we met.’ Perhaps a nudge would be all it took to remind him that there was a woman in his arms.
‘That is a kind way to describe my situation,’ he replied. ‘I was drunk and broken hearted. And ready to throw myself into the North Sea.’
‘And how are you now?’ she asked, hopefully.
‘Sober. But otherwise unchanged.’
She had forgotten the story he’d told her the first night, dismissing his past as unimportant, since it did not concern the trip. ‘When we met, you said that you were avoiding the company of a lady…’
‘I had the misfortune to fall in love with her,’ he finished. ‘But I did not tell you that she was the wife of my employer.’
‘Lady Folbroke?’ Though she could not remember meeting the Earl, she had met Emily Longesley at a rout, during one of the countess’s rare appearances in London. She had been as beautiful as Priss, and with a lively wit that held the attention of every man in the room. She had been friendly and welcoming, even to a spinster elder sister, urging her away from the chaperons’ corner to sit with one of Priss’s beaus. The prospect that her Mr Hendricks might, even now, be comparing her with such a nonpareil made her want to sink beneath the hay in embarrassment.
‘She and her husband were estranged for much of the last three years. I spent most of my time relaying information between the two. I grew to be quite smitten with her.’
‘And I suppose she is very unhappy in her marriage,’ she said, wanting to think the best of the situation.
‘Not particularly. If you are spinning wild fancies about an evil husband and a beautiful countess in need of rescue, do not bother yourself.’ His arm tightened about her for a moment, as though drawing strength before remembering something painful. ‘While Emily was certainly beautiful enough to be such a heroine, her husband was equally handsome and vastly superior to me in wealth and position. He was also a man I counted as a friend.’
‘Then she was unfaithful to him,’ Drusilla supplied. ‘And led you astray.’
‘On the contrary. Even when they were apart, she doted on him. She had no interest in me whatsoever, and made the fact quite plain.’
‘How very cruel.’
‘Cruelty is a kindness, when the object is being as obtuse as I was. It had reached the point where the parties involved could no longer ignore my feelings. I revealed myself not in some sort of dramatic and romantic declaration, but in a few and fumbling words that were unwelcome and ill received.’
Dru wound her arms around him and pressed her face into his shirt front. She felt his embarrassment as if it were her own: a replay of a dozen days, where some chance word revealed her feelings to those around her, only to find them unwelcome.
In return, he gave her an awkward pat on the back. ‘Adrian was very understanding about the whole thing. Emily would have looked the other way as well. But I was too embarrassed to remain in the house. I quit my position that same day. Then I packed my bag, drank myself into oblivion and took a seat in the wrong coach.’
‘How awful for you,’ she managed. And for her as well, if his actions tonight were an attempt to forget another.
‘Not so very bad, I think.’ He gave her a kind smile. ‘Travelling with you has taken my mind off my troubles.’
So that was all she had been to him: a temporary diversion. ‘I am glad to be of help,’ she said, closing her eyes tight and burrowing into his coat.
‘Emily was delightful company and we worked well together. I have many fond memories of time spent with her and the dreams I had when I thought there might be hope for me.’
‘I can see where you would be tempted, if you worked in close proximity with her. She is quite lovely.’ Please, do not tell me about her and all the ways she is unlike me. ‘But in the end, I think you made a sensible choice in leaving,’ she said, wanting the conversation to end.
There was a pause and he brought a hand up to stroke her hair. ‘I just wanted you to know that the revelation of my infatuation with Lady Folbroke, and my behaviour when you met me, were out of character for me. I can always be counted on to do the sensible thing in the end, Lady Drusilla. Some of us are cursed with a natural stability.’
‘Lucky for the rest of the world that we are,’ she said.
‘But even the most sensible of us are not immune to love.’
‘You make it sound rather like influenza.’
He laughed again. ‘It is like a sickness, in a way.’
And you have given it to me. How could he lie beside her and have no idea what she felt for him, or what his philosophical musing was doing to her?
He went on as though it were nothing. ‘I pined over Emily for several years in silence. But recently, being forced to see the hopelessness of it…’ His hands on her stilled again. ‘In telling you this, I meant to dissuade you from your cause and show you the hopelessness of reasoning with people who love. But it seems, Lady Drusilla, that you have persuaded me. It is not that I do not believe in constancy of affection. While I was caught up in them, I would have sworn that my feelings for Emily were everlasting. They are fading, after only a few days. If the union you seek to dissolve is of such a transient nature, then perhaps you will have more success than I first thought.’
‘I am glad you think so. It is good to have hope.’ In something, at least.
‘I think so as well. If I land on my feet after this, I mean to take my recent behaviour as a sign and find a wife, if only to clear the nonsense from my head.’ He did not sound terribly enthused about it. But she understood the need to have some plan to anchor his future to. Marriage was certainly better than throwing himself into the sea.
He laughed. ‘Of course, the girls that I have the right to court would bore me to tears.’
‘And what sort of women might they be?’ she pressed, almost afraid of the answer.
‘Women with parents who are not bothered that my own father will not claim me,’ he said. ‘And I should learn to accept that fact as well. When I was enamoured of the countess, it was not just her husband that was the problem. I tend to overreach myself. It is the height of foolishness on my part. I will not allow myself to make that mistake again, I assure you.’ He pulled away from her and looked into her eyes with his serious amber ones. ‘It is time I learned my place and to be content in it.’
He traced the curve of his bottom lip as though the touch were a farewell kiss. Then he pulled his coat up to cover them both and pulled her close, offering his arm for a pillow. ‘And now we should rest. If we get an early start, we will steal a march on your escaping lovers and have them before luncheon.’
Chapter Eleven
Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.
The curses in John’s mind rung in time to the strike of the horse’s hooves. Dru had lain in his arms all night and he had slept not a wink. And the sweet torment of loving Emily was nothing, compared to what he was experiencing now.
He’d lulled her, and touched her, and brought her to climax. Then she’d spurned him. And five minutes later, she’d lured him back to bed, so she could tell him that she had no intention of giving up the trumped-up French noble she was chasing after.
He gave a snort of disgust. It was just as likely that, if he gave the man a firm shaking, he’d turn out to be an English nobody putting on a fine accent and a tight coat to get on the right side of the ladies. When they caught up to the beggar today, he’d have to put up with his Dru fawning all over the man and holding the handkerchief while some other poor chit wept her eyes out.
Lady Drusilla's Road to Ruin Page 11