Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

A nother piece of good fortune awaited Scarlett in Dunstable—the last seat on the mail coach. She was ever more grateful for Mrs Hobson’s small pouch of coins as she dug out the required sum, hoping rather than believing she would have funds enough to last her. She prayed that the Leightons—presumably happily settled in London now—would consent to allow her to stay with them, and that Lady Leighton would not be too terribly scandalised by having her appear on her doorstep, unattended. She knew she ought not to be travelling unchaperoned, but what choice had she?

Alas, her luck ran dry in St Albans where the post coach was too full for her and a red-faced man who smelt dreadfully of spirits shouted at her for not knowing that the last stage was already gone for the day.

“Already gone?” she cried out in dismay. “But it is…it is not even noon! ”

“Come back tomorrow, first light, or hire private.” He jerked his head in the direction of men lingering about hopefully on the edges of the room.

“H-how much is that?”

He named an impossible amount and Scarlett wilted. What now? She could not possibly spend the night here, nor could she afford to hire a private conveyance. Slowly, she walked towards a hard wooden bench, placed for waiting travellers, and sat, the impossibility of it all washing over her. She wondered how many miles she had travelled already, whether it was far to walk home, or if she could walk to London. She was uncertain of how many miles it was, but thought it was perhaps twenty or twenty-five. She might be able to do such a thing before nightfall, but it was not a notion she enjoyed thinking of. She had already walked five miles to get to Dunstable!

Her choices seemed to be not only limited, but non-existent, and tears began to gather in her eyes as she realised how very helpless and hopeless she really was. Was this what Reverend Margrave had meant when he said she would ‘see the hard truth of her circumstances’? She pressed her lips together and looked out of the nearest grimy window, breathing deeply, trying not to weep, and praying some solution might magically present itself.

“Miss Margrave?”

She uttered a short shriek as she turned her head and saw him , Lord Worthe, looking every bit as handsome as he had in the ballroom…oh, was it truly only a few days ago? It seemed like an age had passed.

“Lord Worthe! H-how do you do, sir?” She did her best to force her lips into some semblance of a smile.

He offered her a smile of his own and a short bow, but he appeared undeniably concerned, his eyes searching her countenance and glancing quickly about her. “I am well.” He paused and then asked, “Are you…going somewhere?”

“Yes,” she said, straightening herself and trying to look respectable. “I am going to London to see my friend Miss Leighton.”

“Splendid,” he said, still with the same puzzled air. He glanced about and then enquired, “Are you…with…someone?”

“Yes. Yes, of course.” And then it could not be helped, her tears began to roll down her face. She scrabbled hurriedly in her pockets, finally locating a handkerchief tucked into her sleeve. All the while he watched her, the concern on his face growing ever more apparent.

Very slowly he took a seat next to her. She could not bring herself to look at him, not even once she had managed to stop her tears. She just sat there, sniffling and wishing he would go and stay all at once.

“May I be of some use to you?”

“I appreciate your solicitude, but you need not trouble yourself for me. I am perfectly well.”

“The tears still drying on your cheeks say otherwise, as does the fact that not another soul in this place seems to know you, or be looking after you,” he said gently.

She had no idea what to say to that and so, rather stupidly, apologised. Then they sat in silence, a silence that was broken by a rushed confession from her. “I…I have left home,” she said, her voice breaking on the word ‘home’.

“Why?”

In a tumble of words, she explained it all to him, beginning with the morning at the breakfast table and the shocking news that she was not at all who she thought she was, and ending with her precipitate departure from the parsonage house. She held nothing back, not the letter, not even the journal of expenses.

He was silent through her recitation; when she finished, he said, “So to all your fine qualities, I must add that you are excessively brave.”

“Not so brave,” she said. “Not brave at all, if you must know. Foolish, I believe, incredibly stupid. He gave me rope enough to hang myself, and now I have gone and done it. I just had to…to see. I could not bear to imagine living out my days in such a…a flat way.”

“Nor should you,” he said warmly. “In fact, I am wholly persuaded that you belong to one of the most prominent families in the country.”

“That was not why I did it.” Scarlett sighed and rearranged her skirts around her. “I am not rushing off on some misguided belief that I am a long-lost heiress or anything like that. But my entire world, the foundation of it has been proved false. There is, it seems, nothing beneath my feet, and I should like to know my own truth.”

Lord Worthe was nodding, solemn and thoughtful. “Quite admirable, I should say.”

How much she had enjoyed talking and laughing with him at the ball! And how very good, how easy it felt to unburden herself to him. His attention on her had been unwavering throughout her recitation and she, accustomed to being told to be quiet, had felt it like a balm to her troubled soul.

“Allow me to help you. How are you travelling?”

“I came here on the mail stage. Shocking, I know, but…” She stopped talking, seeing him looking pained.

“Your father, um, the reverend, he did not even see to your proper conveyance?” Lord Worthe’s lips curled with disgust at that.

“I imagine he thought I would take one look at things in Dunstable and come crying back to the parsonage. As it stands, I made it the whole way here before I truly regretted my actions.” She smiled ruefully. “He does not really want me to go to London, so he was certainly not going to make it easy for me to do so.”

Lord Worthe shook his head but said no more than that. “Here is what I am going to do. I shall hire a carriage?—”

“Oh, no, thank you but I already looked into that and I simply do not have the money to afford it.”

“Never mind that. I shall arrange it all, and a chaperon for you besides. Just give me a few minutes to speak to the innkeeper.”

He had half-risen from the bench, but Scarlett stopped him by placing her hand on his arm, just as she had done at the assembly. “I cannot allow you to do so much on my behalf.”

He sat again and released an enormous breath. “Why not?”

“Why should you?” she asked him. “You owe me nothing.”

“Because I want to take care of you.” The way he said it, his voice low and intimate, sent a shiver up Scarlett’s back.

They sat in silence for several moments. Scarlett could hear him breathing, his respirations coming too fast, and it comforted her in a way she could not account for.

“I was achingly disappointed in Luton,” he said slowly, “that you would not permit me to call on you. I thought surely that you must have felt for me at least some small measure of what I felt for you? After all, for a key to fit the lock, the lock must also fit the key; I should imagine leanings of the heart are very much the same. But you were so adamant that I should not come to call on you.”

He was looking at her very intently now; she could feel it, even if her own gaze was fixed upon her lap. “Can you tell me in truth that you felt nothing for me at the assembly? Not even the slightest inclination? ”

Scarlett could not make a reply, but her blush no doubt told him everything. Alas, he was not satisfied with a blush. He reached out, placing one gloved finger beneath her chin and tilting her face towards his.

“Say you felt nothing for me, and I shall be gone from this place without a look back. After I arrange your conveyance to London, that is.”

“You do not understand.”

“What do I not understand?”

“I can be nothing to you,” she whispered.

“Because you do not like me?”

That made her laugh even though her eyes had grown misty. “I do like you. I like you very much.”

“But I am like a brother to you? Or perhaps a pesky uncle who teases too much?”

She laughed again, this time with more real amusement. “No, not like that at all. But…you have heard my tale. I am a lady of uncertain parentage, and although I have not moved in the circles of higher society, I am well aware of how that is regarded.”

“I believe I do know your parentage, and soon you will too, but all of that is nothing to me. To be frank about it—I do not care two straws about who your father or mother are, no matter how high or how low they are.”

“I have no fortune. See here?” She opened her reticule and showed him the contents. Despite her anguish, she laughed again. “That is all I have in this world. ”

“As it turns out, you have a great deal more than that.” He took her hands in his. “You have captivated my heart, Scarlett. You hold it in your hands to do with as you wish.”

She could not speak. Her eyes fell to their joined hands and her face ignited like a wildfire, but he did not seem discouraged by her silence.

“Will you allow me to care for you now? To see to your comfort?”

Now she did raise her eyes to his. What more could she say? She was the damsel in distress and he was her hero. With a smile, she nodded. “Thank you, sir. It is much appreciated.”

As he rose, she had a sudden thought and stopped him in his tracks. “Sir, I do hope I have not delayed you on your own journey? What brings you to this part of the country?”

Now it was his turn to flush a little, but he was so genial it did not seem to trouble him in the least. “Oh, there is a lady I admire up the road a skip. Stanbridge—you might have heard of it?”

Stanbridge. A brief, horrifying thought crossed her mind of what might have happened if he had come to the parsonage while she was locked in, or arguing with the reverend, or worse! What then?

But then she realised that she need never have such fears again. Lord Worthe knew it all now; he knew her, and for some reason he liked her nevertheless.