Miss in a Man's World

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by Anne Ashley


  ‘In that case, ma’am, you must forgive me if I leave you now. It might be difficult, but not impossible to discover the precise road a lady travelling alone left London on early this morning.’ He paused as he reached the door. ‘She did leave alone, I take it?’

  ‘She took only her belongings with her. But not Digby.’

  ‘In that case, ma’am, I shall run him to earth without delay.’

  Using the journal she had pored over at the breakfast table, Georgiana sat by the open French windows, fanning herself. June had arrived with tropical fury, and the sun’s merciless heat showed no signs of abating.

  ‘Truly, Eleanor, I’m so glad I left the capital when I did. It must be absolutely oppressive there now.’

  The lady, sitting serenely on the sofa, raised her eyes from her sewing. ‘Are you so very glad, Georgie? Wouldn’t it have been better to have spoken to Ben first, instead of what was tantamount to fleeing from him a second time?’

  Since her arrival at Lady Eleanor’s charming home the week before, Georgiana had been granted ample opportunity to confide all, and she had, leaving out nothing, not even that very first encounter with the Viscount. Like kindred spirits they had laughed and cried together in turn, but even so, close though they had become, nothing Eleanor had said had persuaded her guest to write to his lordship.

  Georgiana shook her head. ‘I like to think I am my mother’s daughter, unselfishly releasing the man I love from an engagement for the very best of reasons.’ She smiled wryly. ‘But I’m not so very sure I possess her strength of character. Your brother-in-law can be very persuasive, as you know. He is also very honourable and would have married me.’ She raised her hand in a helpless little gesture. ‘Oh, he’s fond of me, right enough, very fond, I like to believe. But that doesn’t alter the fact the real love on his side would have been missing from the union. No, it is better this way, and in time I’m sure he’ll come to appreciate it too.’

  Rising from the chair, she went to stand beside the window to attain the benefit from what little breeze there was. ‘Did you read that obituary in the morning paper?’ she asked, changing the subject from one that was still too painful for her. ‘It strongly suggests that Lord Chard died as a result of an accident while cleaning his pistol. No doubt out of consideration for the immediate family the authorities have decided not to reveal what they know.’

  ‘But it could be true,’ Lady Eleanor pointed out, having been in possession of all the facts herself for several days, but Georgiana was sure it was not so.

  She shook her head. ‘No, unless I’m much mistaken Ben persuaded Chard to take his own life. He was in a strangely subdued state throughout the journey from Cheetham Wood back to London that day. We hardly exchanged a couple of dozen words. Not that we could do a deal of talking. He was tooling the carriage for much of the time.’

  ‘Besides which, he was no doubt furiously angry with you for following him from town,’ Eleanor pointed out, thereby eliciting a tiny gurgle of mirth from her very welcome visitor.

  ‘He was as mad as fire,’ Georgiana confirmed. ‘If you could have seen the look on his face! I think he could quite cheerfully have strangled me.’

  Her smile faded as she detected a distinct sound. ‘Was that a carriage I heard…? Are you expecting visitors today?’

  ‘Not that I’m aware of, my dear. Possibly one of my neighbours paying a call.’

  ‘In that case, I’d best retire to my room. It wouldn’t do for anyone to know I’m— Oh, good gracious me!’ she exclaimed in alarm, after catching sight of an unmistakable tall figure making his way towards the house by way of the rose garden.

  Eleanor watched in some dismay as the morning journal was tossed in the air and her endearing house-guest raced from the room in blind panic, knocking an occasional table over as she did so. Even though Lord Fincham’s appearance in the doorway a moment later was not wholly unexpected, she still managed to let her sewing slide from her fingers to the floor as she rose to her feet.

  ‘Oh, God!’ Eleanor muttered for want of something more appropriate to say by way of a greeting.

  ‘Not quite, merely your brother-in-law.’ He felt for his quizzing-glass, and through it surveyed the bits and pieces littering the floor. ‘Dear me, my unexpected arrival does appear to have had an adverse effect.’

  ‘Not at all, dear brother,’ Eleanor assured him, though still clasping her throat with one hand, like a Drury Lane actress performing in some Greek tragedy. ‘It is always such a pleasure to see you. Can I offer you some refreshment?’

  ‘No, thank you, Eleanor. I have no intention of taking up more of your time than I need do, and so shall come to the point of my visit—where is she?’

  ‘W-who?’ she managed faintly, and his smile in response was not pleasant. ‘Oh, my daughter, you mean,’ she continued valiantly. ‘Why, where you would expect her to be—upstairs with her governess.’

  ‘So, it is to be that way, is it?’ So saying, his lordship did no more than give an ear-piercing whistle. A crossbred pointer appeared in response and went padding round the room, sniffing excitedly at the various items of furniture as he did so. ‘Picked up the scent already, have you, boy? Good lad! Go and find her,’ he ordered, after obligingly opening the door.

  ‘Oh, this really is too bad of you, Benedict!’ Eleanor admonished, though not at all convincingly. ‘Not that I hadn’t considered writing to you on several occasions during recent days. The poor girl is so desperately unhappy, and doing her utmost not to show it. It is all so very sad.’

  ‘No, it isn’t,’ he countered at his imperious best. ‘It’s all so damnably unnecessary. And the little madam has put me to the trouble of organising everything myself. Still,’ he continued, sounding and appearing well pleased with himself, ‘if she isn’t satisfied with the arrangements, she’s only herself to blame.’

  He raised a finger as a series of enthusiastic barks from above reached his ears. ‘Ah! Sounds as if Ronan has run the quarry to earth. If you’ll excuse me, Eleanor, there is a little matter on the floor above requiring my immediate attention.’

  He turned, about to leave, when he bethought himself of something else. ‘Perhaps in my absence you would care to get yourself and your daughter ready. Our wedding will be taking place in my local church early this afternoon and I should like you both to attend.’

  Leaving his sister-in-law to gape after him with a look of astonishment, not untouched by admiration, Lord Fincham bounded up the stairs two at a time and along the passageway to that bedchamber from where a deal of excited yapping was still emanating. He paused on the threshold, surveying, with a deal of pleasure, the fond reunion taking place in the centre of the chamber. How typical it was of Georgie to take the time to return the affection by kneeling down and stroking the dog so tenderly! She could so easily have locked Ronan in some room and attempted to make good her escape.

  The look he received was anything but affectionate when she chanced to raise her head and saw him standing there. ‘Involving Ronan was damnably sneaky of you, Fincham!’ she told him sternly.

  ‘Damnably astute, I should say,’ he countered, strolling languidly into the room. ‘Saved a deal of time, what’s more. Which reminds me—we haven’t much left to us. We’re due in the church in a little under two hours.’

  ‘No!’ The refusal, clear and carrying, held a strong note of determination, but did not leave his lordship visibly crestfallen. He merely called Ronan to heel before sensibly shutting him out of the room, then assisting Georgiana to her feet.

  The instant she had gracefully risen, she attempted to withdraw her hand from his clasp, but he held fast, and even went so far as to capture the other. ‘Now, so that we do not misunderstand each other further, I shall take leave to inform you, young woman, that I never for one moment considered our engagement a sham, simply because I love you…I love you even when you’re impertinent enough to leave curt missives with my butler, denouncing me as a deceitful wretch… I’ve always
loved you, and I cannot envisage the day will dawn when I do not love you.’ He drew her unresistingly closer. ‘Why, I even loved you—God help me!—when you were a boy.’

  This drew forth a decidedly watery chuckle, and his lordship, exhibiting great presence of mind, took immediate steps to prevent the touching little sound from becoming an inexhaustible torrent of emotion.

  When finally he had left her breathless and clinging to him for support, he settled her next to him on the chaise longue, content in the knowledge that she couldn’t possibly now doubt the depth of his feelings. He received immediate confirmation of this when she slipped her hand shyly into his and confessed that she was very glad that he had found her.

  Then something occurred to her and she raised her head briefly from the comfort of his shoulder. ‘But how did you know where I was? I didn’t tell anyone.’

  ‘I discovered that for myself on the morning of your flight, when I called at Grenville House. Which reminds me, I have your engagement ring about me, which I shall return to you when I have placed a gold band on your finger first. But I digress… To continue—on discovering that you intended to seek refuge with someone you could trust, I first supposed you just might have gone to Charles Gingham to seek his aid. So I immediately set out for Deerhampton. I needed to visit Charles to inform him about his cousin being taken into custody. You were not there, of course. But Charles’s uncle still was. Which was most opportune, as far as I was concerned. Charles’s uncle is a bishop, you see, and I was able to obtain a special licence from him.

  ‘Charles, of course, was only too happy to accompany me back to town in order to help in the search. Fortunately, whilst I was absent, Digby managed to discover by which road a young lady, travelling quite alone, had left town in a hired carriage.’

  He slanted her a mocking glance. ‘I’ll take leave to inform you, my girl, that not too many people can afford the luxury of travelling in a hired carriage, and those who can usually have conveyances of their own. Furthermore, not too many young ladies set out on journeys without so much as a maid to bear them company.’

  ‘No, I suppose that was foolish of me,’ she acknowledged after a moment’s consideration. ‘But I’ve never employed a personal maid, and I could hardly abscond with one of the Dowager’s.’

  ‘Well, you have one now, and she’s awaiting you below,’ he informed her, much to her surprise. ‘Brindle managed to find a suitable young woman before we closed the town house and left for Fincham Park. Charles is there, ready to act as my groomsman, and the Dowager and Lady Sophia are also staying at the house as our guests for a few days.’

  He rose to his feet, smiling at the look of shocked disbelief flitting over her lovely features. ‘So it only remains for you to get ready for our wedding.’ He consulted his fob watch. ‘And you have a mere half an hour, my love, before we must leave for the church.’

  Any slight suspicions that he wasn’t being totally serious left her in an instant. ‘Oh, this really is too bad of you, Ben! I have absolutely nothing suitable to wear.’

  ‘I’m certain you and your new abigail will come up with something appropriate.’ He sauntered across to the door, but turned back to add with a challenging gleam in his eye, ‘Or do I take you as you are? Be very sure of one thing, my girl, I leave this house in half an hour, and you will be travelling with me to the church.’

  Violet eyes glinted in response. ‘You may be sure of it, my lord. But now go away, do, and send up that abigail. If I’m to appear halfway presentable for my own wedding there isn’t a moment to lose!’

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-1444-6

  MISS IN A MAN’S WORLD

  Copyright © 2011 by Anne Ashley

  First North American Publication 2011

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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