Chapter Twelve

Nigel Jameson’s conversation put the final seal on any pretence Allegra had of enjoying the rest of the day at Wandle Park.

She managed to smile and answer something when spoken to, but if asked later what she had said to whom, wouldn’t have had a clue. The delightful food, beautiful sunshine, even the Rajah’s presence, all was wasted on this young woman who was suffering several severe blows to her equilibrium. She escaped the crowded terrace and found a chair conveniently placed behind a large urn where she could be blessedly alone with her thoughts.

Uppermost amongst these, of course, was Pip Allenbridge.

Although Allegra tried very hard to concentrate on the seriousness of their conversation, somehow all she could remember was his fragrance and how wonderful it had felt to be in his arms.

She couldn’t help but compare that feeling to how she had responded to Nigel Jameson’s overtures. When his lips had touched her hand, she’d felt nothing but a mild concern at his familiarity—no wave of pleasure had shot through her body and warmed her soul.

A blush rose to her cheeks even now as she remembered how desperately she had pressed herself against Pip’s heat and yielded enthusiastically to his embrace. And how eagerly his body had responded.

Being an honest person, Allegra was forced to confess to herself that she was experiencing some very warm emotions for Lord Allenbridge. Hesitant to put a name to these feelings, she carefully analysed them. There was an awareness of him when they were in the same room, a tendency to catch his eye when something amusing occurred knowing he would share her enjoyment, and a contentment and pleasure in his company.

Not to mention a tendency for her loins to melt at the thought of his lips on hers.

Oh dear, thought Allegra. This is quite dreadful. “I must not let this happen,” she whispered aloud.

Just as she uttered her fateful conclusion, the object of her thoughts walked around the urn.

“Did you say something, Cousin Allegra?” he asked.

“Oh no. That is...yes. I was wondering if...if...people were napping...but it’s not important. Isn’t this a splendid piece?” Her fingers were trailing over the ornately carved plinth that provided support for the flower-filled urn.

Pip raised one eyebrow eloquently as he gazed at the stonework.

Allegra hastily rose from her chair. “But I’m chattering nonsense. It must be the heat.” She shook out her skirts briskly. “Was there something you needed?”

It took every ounce of her composure to look Pip straight in the eyes and not colour up, but somehow, she managed.

Pip gazed down at her, trying to guess her thoughts, and failing dismally. It bothered him that he couldn’t read her as well as he’d like.

“Well, time is getting on and we should be thinking about heading back to town shortly. I was hoping you were almost ready to take your leave?”

“Absolutely,” said Allegra, with perhaps a little more emphasis than required. “Let’s roust the twins and have the horses put to.” She made as if to bustle off and do it all herself.

Sighing gently, Pip reached out and grabbed her arm before she could dash away. “Wait...wait...Cousin Allegra...” he laughed. “There are servants here to attend to all of that, and I wanted to ask if you would mind travelling back in my carriage alone—there’s something I particularly need to talk to you about.”

Allegra gazed at Pip with a somewhat stupefied look on her face.

“It’s about the girls,” he said hastily as the twins rustled their way over to announce their readiness to depart.

“Oh...oh yes, of course. Certainly, my Lord.”

Pip was irrationally pleased at the momentary expression of disappointment that he’d seen in her eyes.

“Uncle Pip, may we travel together on the way home?” asked Grace, walking over with her arms entwined with Penelope’s. “It would be ever so much fun, and seeing as there’ll be four of us plus the coachman and groom, we should be quite well chaperoned.”

“Oh please, Uncle Pip...” echoed Penelope.

Not being proof against two pairs of beseeching blue eyes, Pip turned an inquiring eyebrow towards Allegra.

“It would seem that the proprieties will indeed be observed, but I would encourage you to try to reach Bridgeford House before dark. You still have several hours, so you’d better go and say your goodbyes.”

Pip nodded his approval of the scheme.

“You are an angel, Cousin Allegra.” She was enthusiastically hugged by a twin on each side.

“Ooof...”she gasped, as the air was squashed out of her lungs and the twins bustled off excitedly.

“My sentiments, exactly,” said his Lordship wryly. “They are quite a pair when they set their mind on something. Well, we should say our goodbyes, too. Luckily, this arrangement will allow us to converse freely without occasioning comment, which is what I would prefer right now...”

With a nod, Pip strode off to oversee their farewells from Wandle Park.

The Jamesons had explained that they would be staying for several days, and given Gloriana’s last experience in a carriage, Allegra was thankful to hear it. Even so, Gloriana hung nobly onto Lord Allenbridge’s arm until the last possible moment, thus giving Nigel chance to whisper his intentions of spending time at Bridgeford in the near future.

After a final impassioned kiss had been pressed to her wrist, and Lord Allenbridge had pried Gloriana’s fingers from his jacket, they declared themselves ready to depart and with much waving and fluttering of handkerchiefs, they were off.

Pip exhaled deeply, and Allegra leaned back and closed her eyes with a sigh of relief.

This companionable silence lasted for some time, with both lady and gentleman content to watch the passing scenery and listen to the soothing sound of the horses’ hooves beating a regular rhythm on the road.

Finally, the gentleman glanced over at the lady. “Being pursued is rather tiring, isn’t it?” said Pip wickedly.

“My Lord...” Allegra feigned shock. “That is a very ungentlemanly comment, and well you know it. But, honestly, yes. It’s fun to have someone pay attention, and fuss over one, but there comes a point when it gets to be annoying, and I must confess that point came and went somewhere around two hours ago.”

“Agreed. Let’s leave the Jamesons to their Wandle, and get to the matter at hand.” He leaned back in the carriage and crossed one leg comfortably over the other. “It may not be too much of a surprise, but Vivian has asked me for permission to pay his addresses to Penelope.”

“Really?” Allegra raised her eyebrows.

“Of course, really,” answered Pip, a little irritably. “I certainly wouldn’t be discussing it if it wasn’t so.”

“I didn’t mean ‘really’ really, I was just so surprised that it was all I could think of at the moment.”

“Were you surprised? I wasn’t...,” said Pip. “It was becoming as plain as could be that the two of them were besotted with each other, didn’t you notice?”

“Well, of course I noticed...” she replied tartly. “One would have to be blind and deaf not to have seen their feelings growing. My surprise is over the fact that Sir Vivian should ask you for Penelope’s hand so soon. He has always struck me as a quite conservative young man, and for him to be so impetuous must mean they’re deeply in love...”

Her voice trailed off, and she gazed over the fields. “I believe we should consider the practicalities of such a match. It’s the proper thing to do.” She shot a quick glance at Pip. “Sir Vivian is undoubtedly good for Penelope, and he will be able to provide for her, and support her and all that sort of thing, and they’re certainly of a like temperament. How do you feel about the match?”

Pip dipped his head in agreement. “I’m relatively content with it, as long as Penelope is happy. Vivian is a good lad, and not one to jump into quick or unconsidered decisions. At least not since I’ve known him. Yes, I think this means I’ll give Vivian the approval he’s looking for. Has Penelope said anything to you?”

“Not in so many words, no. But she can’t hide her feelings very well, and her eyes definitely give her away when she looks at Vivian. It would seem that she cares for him a lot—and I would have no hesitation in approving the match also, but perhaps we should ask them to consider a relatively lengthy engagement? Penelope is still quite young, after all.”

“Well, I suppose...” said Pip, not having given the matter a large amount of thought. “Do you think...what the...”

The carriage gave a sharp lurch to the left, rumbled, and made nasty noises, and nearly dumped both Pip and Allegra out the door and into the gravel.

“Are you all right, my Lord? My Lady?” The groom scrambled from a heap in the road where he’d been flung, and dusted himself off, managing to grab the reins of the startled team.

Pip hastily straightened and took his arms away from Allegra. “Yes, yes...I think we’re fine...”

He glanced quickly at her, and she nodded, trying to un-crease her bonnet. “What happened, Simpkins?”

“See for yourself, my Lord. Don’t know if there’s much I can do about it at this point...” He gazed soulfully underneath the carriage.

There was an ominous creak as Pip stepped down to join his coachman in the road.

Looking to where Simpkins was pointing, Pip could see that the wheel housing was hanging by a thread and the wheel itself was in imminent danger of coming off completely.

A little way behind them in the centre of the road was a small piece of wood with pegs attached to it and this had to be the cause of the accident—it had snapped cleanly through.

“Well.” Pip disgustedly stared at the broken cleat. “This is a nice predicament.”

“I might choose to disagree with your usage of the word ‘nice’,” said Allegra, carefully climbing down from the carriage.

“Semantics aside, woman, we’re in the devil of a bind,” frowned Pip, exasperated that his vehicle should have been the instrument of their misfortune. “We’re almost halfway between Wandle and Bridgeford, with no means of transportation. The light is fading, I’d guess at sunset in less than an hour, and I don’t see a blacksmith anywhere in the neighbourhood, do you?”

He waved a hand at the empty fields and forests that bordered the road, now silent but for the occasional rustle of a small animal or the chirp of a sleepy bird.

“Well, my Lord, if I remembers aright, there’s a little village off a fork about two miles back. Mayhap I could get to it and rouse some assistance. Without passengers, the carriage should make it if I goes carefully while there’s still light—but... ahem...you’ll pardon me, but I dursn’t take any extra weight at all....”

Pip looked at Allegra. “I can’t think of anything else that would help us out, can you?”

“I must confess to be quite at a loss. Not even a cow to ride on....” She had scrutinised the pastures, but it was well past milking time—the herd would be enjoying their evening hay.

“At least you’ve kept your sense of humour,” remarked Pip dryly.

“That was not a jest. I’ve ridden cows before and it’s not too uncomfortable if you know where to sit. Of course, I wasn’t wearing an elegant dress at the time...” Her gaze wandered thoughtfully to her gown.

Fascinated by this disclosure, both Pip and Simpkins stared at Allegra until an owl hooted and recalled them to their current dilemma.

Looking around him, Pip squinted intently at a darkening shape that appeared to have a roof not too far away. “Very well, then Simpkins. It looks as though there may be some sort of barn up ahead that might offer shelter for a little while, so Lady Falworth and I will head that way and await your return. We’ll take the two carriage blankets to sit on, but needless to say, we would like to see you back here speedily. You will have to watch the damage under here, so do be careful.”

Pip gestured at the wheels. “ If anyone gives you any trouble, tell them that either the Jamesons of Wandle or Allenbridge of Bridgeford will cover the expenses.”

“Aye, my Lord.” Simpkins delicately mounted the box and began the complicated task of slowly turning the carriage and keeping it as intact as possible.

Allegra retreated to a safe position, clutching the blankets, and watched as the vehicle made slow progress back the way they had come.

As Lord Allenbridge approached her, wiping his hands on his handkerchief, she tried hard to regret the accident that had left them alone in the twilight, but inside she was grinning.

“Well, I’m sorry for this, Cousin...” he began.

“Why on earth should you be sorry?” asked Allegra. “It was clearly an unfortunate event that nobody could have foreseen, so we shall have to make the best of it, won’t we?”

She headed off down the road towards the barn in the distance.

Luckily, they both had selected practical footwear, but even so, after walking halfway there, Allegra’s feet were beginning to ache and her conversation was down to a minimum.

“It did seem as though it was quite close, didn’t it? And I’m surprised we haven’t seen any other carriages,” she commented cheerfully, determined not to let her exhaustion show.

“Well, I must admit that Simpkins knows this road better than I. It doesn’t look like a main thoroughfare, more like a shortcut...and I can honestly say that now I know the true meaning of a country mile,” grimaced Pip.

The twilight had deepened around them, and Allegra began to remember just how dark the countryside could be at night. Pip crossed behind and took a place beside her on the soft turf of the bank, in an attempt to find relief from the pebbly bumps in the road.

“The barn is quite near now, and if you’ll follow my example and walk here on the side, you might find it a bit easier on your...phoof.”

“On my what?”

Silence answered her question.

“My Lord? Pip?”

She turned around in a hurry to see absolutely no one in the deepening gloom. The absence of any sound at all was completely unnerving. “Pip, this isn’t funny...” She strained her eyes for some sign of him, her common sense telling her that he couldn’t have just disappeared, but her heart still thumped nervously.

A slight moan from the side of the road broke the silence and hurrying toward the sound, Allegra was appalled to see Pip stretched out full length in a ditch into which he had apparently tripped headfirst.

“Good God, what do I do now?” she asked herself, thankful that he hadn’t disappeared into thin air.

Dropping the blankets, she felt for his neck and was relieved to find a strong pulse beneath her fingers. Awkwardly, she raised his shoulders and supported his head.

“Are you hurt?” She was barely able to distinguish his features clearly in the darkness, and was uneasily aware of a sticky warmth on the side of his face.

“Yes...” muttered Pip thickly.

“Well, we must get you out of this ditch—can you possibly stand? Are your legs injured?” Allegra took shameless advantage of the situation by running her hands over his thighs.

“Legs...fine, head...awful...” stammered Pip. “Must move though...” He pulled himself up, groaning.

Gritting her teeth, she put both arms under Pip’s, and helped him to his feet, steadying him as he staggered. He held his hand out for a moment, indicating he needed to just stand still.

“God, everything’s swaying...” he groaned. “Making me sick.”

“Take deep breaths, Pip, slowly now, just breathe in and out—the sickness should pass in a moment,” said Allegra, devoutly praying she was right.

Anything serious that left him with extensive nausea and blurred vision was well beyond her abilities to deal with.

A few moments of steady breathing, and Pip grunted that he could move.

She couldn’t recall later how the two of them had managed to get out of the ditch, let alone up the road and into the shelter of the old barn. But it was accomplished, with the blankets no less, and finally an exhausted Allegra lowered an equally exhausted Lord Allenbridge onto a hastily gathered pile of straw and the thickest blanket.

“Pip, I am going to remove your cravat and put it beneath your head, do you understand?” asked Allegra firmly, her voice betraying none of the alarm she felt.

“Mmmm...” mumbled Pip.

Well, it was something. He was at least responding to her statements.

She tried to remember if she’d read anything about injuries, and dredged up the information from somewhere that head wounds often bled extensively, but that was not indicative of the seriousness of the injury.

Settling him onto his makeshift pillow, Allegra listened for a moment and was rewarded by the sound of splashing water.

“Finally, something’s going right. Pip, there’s a stream here. I’ll find it and bring water, all right?”

A slight mumble answered her and reassured that he was still alive.

She followed the sound of the water until not more than ten yards from the front of the barn, a dip in the ground heralded a small stream. Unfortunately, both dip and stream were so close to each other that she was actually in the stream before she realised it.

“Damn...damn...” she muttered. “Well, at least I found it...”

Ripping off a large portion from the hem of her chemise, she soaked it in the cool water and cupped several mouthfuls in her hands before squelching her way back to her patient.

There was little enough illumination for her to see what she was doing, but obviously her ministrations worked, as her efforts with the damp cloth caused a moan from Pip.

“Ow...what are you doing to me, Ally?” he grumbled muzzily.

“I’m trying to clean and bind your wound,” she answered quietly. She wondered if he often thought of abbreviating her name, and loved the way it sounded from his lips.

“Well, be gentle with me...” He sighed and settled back into a doze.

Stifling a mildly hysterical giggle, she covered him with the blanket.

Somewhere in the depths of her mind, she also recalled that one should not allow a person with a head injury to sleep, but was completely at a loss as to how to keep him awake, so she sat next to him on the straw, listening to him breathe.

Soon he began to toss a little, trying to stretch out his arms.

Clearly, he was uncomfortable in his elegant jacket so, with a deep breath, Allegra placed her arm behind his shoulders, raised him up and carefully started divesting him of the coat.

His head rested against her collarbone as she eased the sleeves away from his strongly muscled arms, and she could feel his breath whiffling across the tops of her breasts. Doing her level best to ignore the sensations he was causing, she laid him back down, gently placing the back of his head on the folds of his cravat.

A sigh of relief greeted her efforts as Pip settled himself more comfortably. Allegra looked at the blur of white that was his shirt and wished for a lantern so that she might better see his condition.

Hesitantly, she placed her hands on his chest and was rewarded by the firm and steady throb of his heartbeat. Responding to the prompting of some inner demon, she eased the buttons apart and again laid her hand on his chest—this time without the benefit of fabric between them.

The warmth of his body stole into her fingers and the whorls of hair tickled her palm. A flat nipple budded under the gentle searching of her hands.

Snatching her hand away, Allegra blushed vividly, wondering what on earth had come over her.

Reassured now that Pip was resting, and that she had done all she could, Allegra tried to get herself comfortable for the long wait until Simpkin’s return. However, it rapidly became obvious that her dress was unpleasantly damp.

Here was a dilemma.

She could attempt to bundle up in the remaining blanket, but that would only make the blanket damp and leach her body’s heat into the rapidly cooling night air. The other alternative was to remove the dress and spread it out on the straw—with any luck it would dry off and she would be able to retain her warmth with the blanket.

With a resolute sniff, Allegra moved to the other side of the barn and quietly removed her dress, leaving her in her somewhat bedraggled silk chemise, which was mostly dry. The dampest bits were now wrapped around Pip’s head.

Knowing that he was quite soundly sleeping relieved her mind somewhat, and she promised herself she’d stay awake—Pip would never know. Grabbing the other blanket, Allegra laid his coat over him and tucked it in, smiling as a snore greeted her efforts.

Hearing that rough sound, she relaxed enough to sit down next to him and share both blankets since it was easier to hear his breaths that way and they would be warmer near to each other.

And of course if she put her head just here, she could hear his heart beating strongly, and would immediately know if anything was amiss.

Allegra pondered the absurdity of her position, snuggling next to one of the most desirable men in London while wearing a hay-covered chemise and nothing else. She’d be willing to wager there weren’t too many times when Pip had actually slept with a woman, but strangely enough, that didn’t worry her now.

His experience with sensuality showed when he had taken her so firmly in his arms and kissed her, and yet she had never felt constrained or forced or uncomfortable in any way.

Because just thinking about his hands on her or remembering the feel of his chest revived those tingly feelings, she determinedly closed her eyes and tried to think of something else. Instead, she breathed in the deep and disturbing scent of the man next to her, finding it comforting in a way she’d never be able to explain.

The stars came out in full force over the humble barn, and the quiet sounds of the night soothed the woman who tried so hard to keep her eyes open and listen for the rumbling that would herald the return of their carriage. But the moon began its journey across the heavens, and she allowed her eyelids to droop.

Soon, the only sounds were the steady breathing of two people, rhythmically adding to the gentle noises of a country night.

So it was that Allegra Duxcomb, Lady Falworth, exhausted by her role as nurse/chaperone/confidante, fell sound asleep while snuggled into the warm arms of an injured and muddy Phillip Piers Allenbridge, Baron of Wensley Mere, Viscount Riverton, and Holder of the Three Demesnes.

The very same man she had just dragged from a ditch in the depths of the English countryside.