13. Meeting

Chapter thirteen

Meeting

O ne would expect that a trip in an earl's carriage would be far more pleasant than riding in a mail coach. However, they had gone no farther than Doncaster, to the first inn on Lord Kendall's list, when Louisa encountered the grossest impertinence.

Upon entering the rooms assigned to them, Louisa discovered that they were adorned with musty bedclothes and skittering six-legged creatures. Disgusted, she went to speak with the innkeeper about new accommodations. The regular innkeeper was sick abed, and his son mistook Louisa, in her drab dress, for a maid. Apparently, the rascally fellow was of the mind that maids deserved less deference than fine ladies, for when she asked for cleaner accommodations for the Miss Traffords and herself, he responded with a saucy smirk and a pinch on her derriere.

The impudence was unforgivable! Louisa's velvety brown eyes turned to purple flame, and as Ginny and Milly descended the stairs, they witnessed their governess give the man a dressing down that spared neither his manners, intellect, nor appearance. The innkeeper's son began to curse at her and accused her of being "no better than she ought t'be." Ginny grabbed hold of Louisa's arm in fright, and Milly went running to tell the coachman that they'd not be staying in Doncaster after all.

The ladies travelled several miles farther down the road before they found an inn that Louisa deemed acceptable. Although it was not an approved stopping place on Lord Kendall's itinerary, the innkeeper provided them with a private parlour in which to dine and beds free from vermin. Milly and Ginny shared a room while Louisa kept to her own bed in the room next door. She could hear the girls giggling long after the candle had been extinguished. She wondered that they could be in such charity with each other after such a long day of travel. Perhaps the companionship of a sister made up for the minor annoyances of life?

Or perhaps you're simply growing maudlin as an old grandmother. You've done well enough with just yourself for companion. And you'll need to keep your wits about you and keep your own counsel once this carriage arrives in Mr. Digby's hometown.

On the afternoon of the third day, they arrived in London. The coachman deposited them at the door of a fine-looking townhouse—although not so grand as the Warrenton establishment—and Louisa hurried her charges inside before she should be seen on the street.

Lord Kendall was not home to greet them. A hunched older woman, very hard of hearing, began to question their appearance. Louisa suspected this lady was the Mrs. Gale whom Lord Kendall had engaged as a chaperone, but Ginny and Milly did not recognise her and worried that they'd been taken to the wrong townhouse.

"Impossible," said Louisa dryly. "The driver is your uncle's own coachman and would not have deposited us at a strange abode."

A pretty, middle-aged woman descended on them from the drawing room, looking almost as if she were the mistress of the place. Perhaps this was Mrs. Gale?

Before the situation could be untangled, the front door burst open, revealing the eldest Miss Trafford, Lord Kendall, and an unknown gentleman. Penelope went into raptures over the arrival of her sisters, Milly was hoisted up in a bearhug in her uncle's arms, and in the flurry of greetings, it was some time before the earl could introduce the unknown members of the party.

Apparently, the hunched old woman who was now clinging for support to the arm of the earl's secretary, was the requisite chaperone, Mrs. Gale. That pitiful creature would protect the earl's reputation with Louisa in the house.

The pretty middle-aged lady with dark hair was not a chaperone at all, but a "friend of the family." Lord Kendall introduced her as Mrs. Audeley. There was such a tone of gentle pride in his voice that Louisa looked the woman over sharply. Clearly, she meant something to the earl. Was this why he had been so horrified at the thought of Louisa entrapping him?

"And this," said Lord Kendall, drawing attention to the young man who had entered the door behind him, "is Mrs. Audeley's son, Gyles."

Louisa's heart tripped over itself like an inexperienced rider trying to take a hedge at a gallop. What name had he said? Gyles? It was a name so lacking in popularity that she had not heard it again since her flight from Carlton House. But surely, there were more Gyles in England than just the one?

Her eyes darted to the gentleman's face. He was a little taller, a little tanner, and a little broader than she remembered him—but he was still, unmistakably, the chivalrous rosarian from four years ago at Carlton House.

He was looking at her, a puzzled furrow on his brow, as if that same memory were lurking beneath the surface of his mind and about to leap forth like a lake trout. Louisa bowed her head, trying to shield her face. She had often wondered if she would meet the presumptuous trespasser again. Wondered, and waited, and—if she were honest with herself—hoped. But to greet him now would awaken comment that she could ill afford. She began to thank God that the mysterious Gyles had never asked for her name.

But did he recognise the coat-of-arms on your carriage at Carlton House? If so, then he knows exactly who you are. If he recognises your face, can you count on his discretion as much as Lord Kendall's? You have nothing with which to blackmail Gyles Audeley….

Louisa swallowed and edged along the wall, trying to look inconspicuous. She must keep away from him at all costs. Now that she was back in London, her uncle was only a stone's throw away. It was more important than ever that she remain incognito if she were to keep her freedom.

"Ginny, Milly, what a delightful surprise this is!" said Lord Kendall, his tone devoid of any concern for the impossible position in which he had placed Louisa. "I did not expect you till tomorrow. "

"Miss Lymington did not like the look of the first inn you had arranged," said Ginny. "So we travelled on for several hours after that to find another one and got ahead of schedule."

"Did not like the look of the inn," repeated Lord Kendall incredulously. Clearly, he thought that his itinerary had been infallible. "Pray, what was wrong with it, Miss Lymington?"

Louisa had a tart response ready on her tongue, but she tempered it in favour of escaping notice. The less attention the better. "The sheets were insufficiently aired. And the manners of the innkeeper left something to be desired."

Milly, that precocious little pest, leaned in to whisper loudly in her uncle's ear. "He pinched Miss Lymington. On the bottom!"

Louisa refused to look up from the floor, but she felt Gyles Audeley's eyes on her and sensed the waves of indignation radiating from him. He had always been a preux chevalier, as her mother would have called him. A gallant knight. But that was the last thing she needed now when discretion was the better part of valour.

Lord Kendall attempted to smooth things over. "I apologise for the indignity you suffered, Miss Lymington. I can only hope that the second inn you found was more to your satisfaction."

"It was, your lordship." Louisa's face tightened and she glared at the earl. None of the journey was to her satisfaction, but she must make the best of it.

The eldest Miss Trafford began to giggle at the obvious awkwardness of the situation. From the corner of her eye, Louisa saw the girl reach for Gyles and wrap her own arm squarely around his. Startled, Gyles looked down at Miss Trafford. Louisa was sophisticated enough to know that Penny had seen him staring at the governess and was now proclaiming her own prior claim. Could the silly little chit be jealous of her?

Lord Kendall cleared his throat. "Penny, could you please see the girls and Miss Lymington to their rooms and help unpack their things? And Miss Lymington, perhaps you would grant me the favour of your company in my study later. I have questions about my wards' progress since last I saw them."

Louisa met the earl's stare with hauteur until she was forced to nod and drop a grudging curtsey. She could only hope that this appointment truly was about his wards' progress and not a curt command for her to return to her uncle's house. At that point, no matter his obvious predilection for Gyles' mother, she would have to make good her threat and force him into marrying her.

Mrs. Audeley chose that moment to make her adieux . The pretty woman seemed flustered and was holding her hand to her temple as if she had a headache coming on. Gyles disentangled himself from Miss Trafford to offer his mother an arm, and the earl and lady began to go back and forth trying to outdo each other in politeness—Lord Kendall begging them to stay for dinner and Mrs. Audeley begging off so as not to intrude on the family reunion.

Obeying her uncle without objection for once, Penny led the way up the stairs, regaling the wide-eyed Ginny with a description of all the preparations underway for her ball. Milly, who had squirmed out of her uncle's arms while he negotiated with Mrs. Audeley, skipped behind her sisters, eyeing the bannister as if it had potential for future larks. Louisa followed behind them, back straight, hands folded, eyes cast down—a useful practise for her role as an unobtrusive and unremarkable governess .

But as she ascended the stairs, Louisa realised that she was not as unobtrusive as she had hoped, for underneath his mop of chestnut curls, the brown eyes of Gyles Audeley were assessing her as keenly as if she were a rosebush in the Carlton House gardens.