The Viscount Meets his Match: A Regency Romance

by Raven McAllan

  “Flimsy, but not easy to dispute. Very well. What else?”

  “Nothing. I sit and wait and contemplate my future.

  “Better than your past.”

  “Maybe so.”

  * * * *

  “Where are they?” Josephine muttered for the goodness knew how many times. Her return had been simple and undramatic. Once she, Lydia and Will had arrived at the stables, the girls had walked into the house via the back door, and Will had departed to get fresh horses.

  They’d met no one except a maid and a footman as they’d run Lady Foster to ground in her private sitting room.

  Gaia had howled and leaped from the chair she’d occupied and hurled herself at Josephine. She’d picked up the dog and stroked her as Gaia had made little whuffles and squeals of excitement.

  “So someone is glad to see me.”

  Lady Foster had looked up as they entered and rolled her eyes.

  “Cried incessantly. Now what do you two look like? Two drowned rats. What have you come to report? And do you want food? I can get Chef to find you something to keep you going until luncheon.”

  Josephine had glanced at the clock, amazed it was not yet lunchtime. So much had happened in the past few hours. “Please,” she and Lydia had said at the same time.

  “Hungry work this gadding and saving lives.” Lady Foster had rung the bell and relayed her instructions to the footman who appeared. “You eat in here while we talk,” she’d said as soon as the man bowed and left the room. “So begin.”

  It had been a matter of minutes to relay all that had occurred, interrupted only by the footman with a loaded tray. Afterward, as soon as she possibly could, Josephine had made her excuses and, Gaia following her, looked out of the window. With one eye on the weather, she’d gone to collect her cloak then made her way upstairs to disrobe and towel herself vigorously before donning a morning gown and sitting in the armchair. Gaia had plonked herself at Josephine’s feet, chewed on a hank of knotted rope and appeared as if she had no intention of ever moving.

  If only she could do the same. Josephine re-anchored a hairpin and winced. Her scalp was sensitive. Had she knocked her head and not realized?

  Probably. I was too busy concentrating on other things to notice the odd bump. She pushed the sleeves of her gown up and registered a few discolorations on her skin, which she was sure would become spectacular bruises before long. If only she’d had time for a long bath. However, mindful of the part she had to play, she’d decided it was out of the question. She rolled the sleeves down again and made a mental note to ask Lady F. for some salve. Josephine was certain her housekeeper would have some sort of liniment with a special ingredient sure to take away aches and pains. Most ladies of that ilk did.

  For now, though, she intended to sit and think things over.

  The door burst open and crashed back on its hinges with a loud thump that shook the china ornaments on the dresser.

  Josephine glanced up as her mama burst into her sitting room and came to a halt just inside the door.

  “Where have you been?” her mama demanded. Her color was high and she looked decidedly out of sorts. “And for goodness’ sake, what is that animal doing here?”

  “Keeping me company. Why?” Josephine saw no reason to embellish her query. She stood up, found a dry pair of gloves and put them next to her cloak. Gaia growled and Josephine hid her grin as she picked the puppy up before the animal decided it was her duty to protect Josephine from her mama.

  “Why? You infuriating girl. Your papa and I need to know if you are betrothed! We must do all that is needed.”

  “No.”

  “No?” Her mama screeched the word and started to shake Josephine. “Why not? It was all but done. How could you not have succeeded?”

  Gaia barked and showed excellent teeth before she growled and wriggled to be put down. That was the last straw as far as Josephine was concerned. A red haze filled her vision and she struggled to hold onto her temper and the pup. “Do not”—Josephine shrugged her mother’s hands off her shoulders—“ever touch me like that again.” Her voice was icy. “For the past twenty-four years of my life, I have been nothing but an encumbrance to you and my papa. Worthless, and not to be given a second thought, except how to absolve yourselves of any responsibility for me. Just because you see marriage to his lordship as an acceptable manner for that to happen does not mean I will fall in with your plans. My life has always been mine to control. You neither choose to remember about me nor care, unless it is for your own ends. Enough is enough. I absolve you of all responsibility for me. Oh, and it is getting harder and harder for me to hold on to the dog.”

  Gaia growled. From such a small pup, the noise was loud and full of menace. The animal added a bark, wriggled and bared her teeth.

  With a wary eye on Gaia, Lady Bowie took several steps back. Once out of bite range, she stopped and glowered at Josephine. “What do I tell your papa, you ungrateful girl?”

  “Exactly what I said. No more. I will go straight to Northumberland. There. See how easy that was? You can wash your hands of me. Forget once more you have a daughter. Go and do whatever you want, wherever you want.” She sighed. Gaia yowled mournfully. Josephine forced herself not to smile at that. The puppy seemed attuned to Josephine’s moods. “You know, I would have enjoyed your love, Mama, and had plenty to give back. Ah, well, now it’s too late.” ‘Not my loss’, her tone implied.

  “In that case, there is no more to be said. Your papa and I will leave today. You no doubt will do as you wish. I will arrange for your belongings to be sent to Northumberland.”

  Just like that. Josephine nodded. “Why not? Then I can decide what I wish to keep and what can go to the needy.” Not something her parents thought a lot about.

  “Wasteful.”

  “Not at all, exactly the opposite.”

  Her mother sniffed. “I bid you good day.” She gathered her skirts out of the way.

  As if I will sully them, Josephine decided, amused. She waited until the door closed in a controlled manner behind her parent. Nothing so uncouth as slamming it, even if she was riled. After all, the outcome was what her parents desired, even if it had not been achieved in a respectable way.

  Josephine wrapped her cloak around herself, found the leash for Gaia that David had discovered somewhere. The long leather thong had, he’d said, been used on one of Lady F.’s dogs who was too unruly to be allowed to run free. It was ideal to control a young pup who had yet to learn how to behave amongst other animals. Once the leash was secure, Josephine made her way out of the house with Gaia. She met no one, although a few snatches of conversation came from behind closed doors, and once someone sang a cheerful ditty about some cherries and a blackbird in a pleasant contralto.

  She walked purposefully toward the tiny summerhouse situated on a knoll that overlooked the way by which the men would hopefully return, and dropped her cloak onto one end of the chaise positioned in front of the window. By then the rain had eased, and although the sky was dark and menacing, she hoped the storm was over.

  How would David get back? He might have tried to behave as if his foot were hardly injured, but she knew better. He had been in considerable pain, and had done his best not to show it.

  And when he did get back, how would she answer the inevitable question?

  It was time to examine her feelings. Savor those delicious tingles his attention and touch gave her. Try to analyze what they meant, and how much more of them she wanted to experience, and why. And, most importantly, what did she want from the rest of her life, David or to be alone?

  David and children or alone?

  Chapter Fifteen

  The rain might have slowed to a drizzle but it hadn’t stopped. David propped himself against the knobbly back of the overhang and squinted out and upward. Was he deceiving himself when he decided the sky was a little brighter than before? He picked up the bottle of brandy James had left and eyed it thoughtfully. It might be good to ward off chil
ls but getting bosky wasn’t the best aid to getting out safely. He checked his watch—still working—and realized that James hadn’t been gone an hour. Swift calculations showed him it was going to be a considerable time until help arrived. James had to get back to his horse, ride to the house and let Lady F. know what was going on without alarming her. Then gather up the men and equipment needed to get David out of the gorge. It was a devil to get someone injured out of.

  David was glad it wasn’t him doing all the organizing. Not that his godmama would panic, far from it, but it would need coordination and decisive action, and he’d bet his last guinea someone would try to be ‘helpful’ and delay things.

  David chuckled to himself. He could imagine it. ‘Barn door or a trestle?’

  ‘What about a gate?’

  ‘Do we put him in a wagon, or drag him on the gate, door or trestle?’

  ‘Can he walk at all?’

  He rather thought a couple of sturdy farmworkers to carry him to a horse or gig would be best. Hopefully, James and Lady F. would sort out the swiftest method and make sure it happened as soon as possible.

  Meanwhile, what was the best thing he could do?

  Wait or get on with it?

  The slow advance of a menacing black thundercloud to the west decided it for him. If that broke, who knew how long he’d be stuck?

  Get on with it.

  David pondered his options. He couldn’t stand on the foot with a broken ankle but if he could somehow get to the dragon, surely he could haul himself up?

  He managed to get to his feet—just. He even stood swaying and cussing for a while before he gingerly moved his injured foot and pressed on it. Just a little.

  Little was too much. Pain shot into him like a bullet, or a red-hot poker. He swore long and low as the pain radiated out and reminded him just what a broken ankle meant. Sweat dotted his clammy skin and he swallowed hard to stop nausea overwhelming him. It was bad enough feeling sick, he was damn sure he wasn’t going to vomit. Even a slash with a knife when two ruffians had set upon him hadn’t hurt to the degree of agony he was now in. If this was a mere broken ankle, heaven help anyone with another broken limb.

  Long minutes passed before he decided he wasn’t going to pass out, throw up or collapse in a heap.

  What next, he wondered?

  If only there was a branch or something he could use as a crutch, he could limp or hop. However, in that part of the valley, it was mainly coarse grass and the odd gorse bush. The nearest tree was halfway up the cliff and its scrawny branches wouldn’t hold the weight of a child let alone a fully grown man. He mulled over the various options that occurred to him.

  Crawl? That was a possibility, except after all the rain, the ground was boggy. Combined with the uneven terrain and the large rocks that littered the area, it wasn’t a journey he looked forward to. Even if he did manage to get to the scree with only one useable foot, how could he heave himself upward? It wasn’t a couple of feet, and if he fell, it would be a long and bumpy, not to say dangerous, drop.

  A loud clap of thunder made him jump. Fat raindrops began to fall and dampen the rocks. He’d been so deep in thought he hadn’t noticed that distant cloud get closer. That was all he needed. More rain, and less chance of getting out in a hurry.

  David slid down the rock face until he was sitting on the ground again. He had to face it, he was stuck until help arrived. He refused to think what might happen if, for whatever reason, it didn’t. He wrapped his coat around himself and closed his eyes. There was no point in doing the ‘what ifs’ or the ‘what if nots’. What would be would be. He wasn’t going to drown, he had the brandy, there was plenty of water around, so he wouldn’t die of thirst, and if his stomach rumbled so what? He’d managed without eating for several hours before, he could do it again. Meanwhile, he could catch up on the sleep he’d missed the previous night. Didn’t they say the noise of raindrops was soporific?

  * * * *

  The sound of voices woke him. David opened his eyes and yawned as the voices became clearer and more recognizable. He brushed his hair out of his face and wished he had a comb, a damp cloth and a chance to look half presentable. Which in the circumstances was stupid. Who could look presentable in the situation he was in?

  An urgent need was pressing. Thankfully, it was James who got to him first. He stared at David’s disheveled appearance and raised one eyebrow. “You look worse than I thought you might.”

  David smiled wryly. “I tried to see if I could meet you halfway.” He shrugged. “Not a cat in hell’s chance of even one-twentieth of the way. I got to my feet and that was it. Now, though, I need to get to my feet again and relieve myself before I have an accident. Help me up, will you, please?”

  James nodded and hauled David vertical. “I’ll help you hop outside, and then we’ll get you out of here before it’s too dark to see.” He maneuvered David to a convenient gorse bush and stood behind him as a prop.

  Several seconds later, David gave a sigh of relief. “To be basic,” he said, “I needed that.”

  “Too much brandy?”

  David shook his head. “I forgot about that. I fell asleep. What time is it?” Balanced as he was, he didn’t trust his stability enough to search for his fob watch.

  James consulted his own timepiece. “Just shy of five. We need to get moving. Sorry it took so long, but after damage limitation for the boys, the playacting to convince those who mattered that you were in Castleton, not that anyone paid a lot of attention, and sorting out who and what to bring and make it look innocent, time went by. Lady F. insisted we ate and brought you something to eat.” On cue, David’s stomach rumbled.

  “I think this is where, as Will would say, I’m fair clemmed. What do you have?”

  “A turnover—beef and onion—chicken leg, couple of apples, no idea why she put those in, and some ale.” He handed an oilskin bag over to David, who opened it and began to rummage inside.

  “Oh, and a threat that if you don’t do as you’re told, you’ll be put to bed without any supper.”

  David laughed. “She always uses that threat. It’s never worked before.”

  James rolled his eyes. “She said you’d say that. But, in all honesty,” James continued soberly, “she’s worried. The boys, of course, after they realized people were glad to get them home in one piece, broken arm and some scrapes and scratches apart, were full of how you had to stay in the hole for a while and couldn’t walk. They got scolded and then the focus was on you and what to do.”

  David nodded, his mouth too full of pastry to reply without covering James with crumbs. He swallowed, emptied his mouth and coughed as a crumb got stuck. “Went down the wrong way,” he croaked and drank some water. “That’s better. So, what did you decide to do?”

  “Feed you first. It seemed we were correct in that decision.” James indicated the few remains of food in the bag. “Then, one Caleb Thomas and Ru…Reuben I think it is, something or other, the two strongest men around according to Will, will carry you out of here. There’s a gig with blankets and cushions waiting at a barn near Oak Copse. I think I have that right. I came down the dragon—the others have had to come a longer way. The scree is very loose after the rain.”

  “Caleb Thomas is the innkeeper. Runs a tidy house, as my godmama says. No one would dare try to go against his wishes. Reuben Gates is the local farrier. Wins the village fete wrestling every year and is the backstop of the tug-o’-war team. A gentle giant. I can understand them not coming down the dragon.” Both men were big, burly and weighty. “I couldn’t wish for better men to help me.”

  “Just as well, they’re on their way now.” Will joined them, closely followed by Bert. “We can’t go up at the end acos the waterfall’s back after all the rain. We’ve had a quick scout around and think the track across the Backbarrow side’d be best. Even longer than the end, but less likely to get drowned.”

  “That bad?” David frowned as Bert nodded. The waterfall and pool only appeared after h
eavy rain and, once the weather improved, usually drained into the limestone as fast as they had come. Only in really bad weather did they linger. It seemed this was one of those times. Backbarrow Farm was on the ‘wrong’ side of the gorge from Lady F.’s house and, if they had to go up that way, they’d be hard-pressed to get back before dark.

  “Three foot and filling, I’d say.”

  That settled it. “Then let’s go.”

  “Hold on a sec.” Bert put his hand on David’s shoulder to stop him trying to get up. “We need Caleb and Reuben first. They’re almost here. Then we can set off.”

  David sighed. “I feel so bloody helpless,” he said explosively. “A right idiot.”

  “Was those young rascals who were the idiots, not you,” Will said. “If it weren’t for you, they’d be dead and buried now. That cave’s gone as if it were never there.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry I’m such a bad invalid.” David smiled ruefully. “Lord knows what’s going on back at the house.”

  James grinned. “Oh, the usual. Evidently, the chef is cooking all your favorite foods. Josephine’s parents have washed their hands of her—to her delight, I believe—and the boys have been bathed and told early bed. The sawbones has set Freddie’s broken bone and is ready and waiting to do yours. Everyday life, if you listen to Lady F.”

  David nodded. “Well, as she had me on her hands a lot when I was a lad, I guess, in some ways, she’s not far wrong.” He had the uneasy thought that history was repeating itself. At least now he didn’t have his father to chastise him in the way the man preferred—with his fists or whip. To his delight, his scars no longer itched when he remembered those days. Thank goodness for Josephine. She seemed to have somehow cured him of that reaction.