The Long Road to Love Page 4

  “I should have known I was wasting my breath telling a hardened rake my dilemma. Likely, you shall never experience love because you, sir, are a heartless wretch, squandering your life debauching London’s young females. How could I have expected any help from such a quarter?”

  Angelica angrily turned as far to her left as the curricle would allow, knowing she’d been unconscionably rude, but she didn’t care. He was an unfeeling brute who deserved what he got.

  Suddenly she was struck by an idea. If only she could make Richard sufficiently angry, he might actually put her down at the next inn.

  The young lady’s bitter words touched a nerve deep inside Richard, causing him to snap, “I’ll have you know I have never debauched any young female.”

  “Oh! Then when we next stop I shall put out a hue and cry to all within the sound of my voice to lock up their grandmothers, to protect them from unwanted advances since that is where your interest lies.” She watched his reaction hopefully.

  At first Richard frowned; then his amber eyes began to twinkle with amusement. “Don’t think you can provoke me into doing something rash, my dear. No matter how sharp your tongue, I fully intend to keep a close eye on you until we reach Edenfield.”

  Angelica sagged back against the leather seat in disappointment. Her thoughts rampaged from one idea to another on how best to escape from Richard and his mission to usher her back into Giles’s clutches. If making him angry didn’t work, perhaps her best chance was to lull him into believing she’d accept her fate, make him think she was willingly going back. They would have to stop soon for the night. If she played her part right, she might be in York before he knew she was gone. Squaring her shoulders, she began her ploy.

  “Richard, I do apologize for my monstrous conduct. My quarrel with Giles has nothing to do with you. You are correct in that I must go back and face him.” Angelica’s heart hammered. She was certain the earl would know she was prevaricating.

  He eyed her closely for several minutes; then a smile lit his face that made Angelica realize why women fell victim to his charms.

  “Such a sudden change of heart, my dear. Well, I shall not question it, but I am delighted to see you are the same reasonable young lady I remembered. Now, tell me what you have been doing since we last spent a pleasant afternoon together.”

  Feeling more confident that she would yet make it to Lady Longstreet, Angelica set out to convince Richard that she was reconciled to returning to Edenfield.

  *

  “Finch, we must send someone to Blackstone Abbey to see if they have any news of his lordship.” Having come down to the front hall in search of news, Harriet paced in front of the butler, nervously pulling at her handkerchief.

  Her distraction was so great, she was unaware that her cap sat askew and she wore one black slipper and one brown.

  “ ‘Tis nearly two full days since the earl left, and we have heard nothing.”

  “I’m certain Lord Blackstone will bring Miss Angelica straight home, once he finds her, Miss Parks. There’s a great many coaches on the road, so no doubt it’s taking the gentleman a good deal of time to discover her.”

  “More likely he found himself some flash mollisher to sate his lust,” Harriet muttered bitterly to herself. “I should never have asked the likes of him to go.”

  Finch’s brows rose at the cant term for a straw damsel. He wondered where the spinster had come across such language. Despite knowing the remark wasn’t meant for his ears, the butler felt the need to defend his lordship.

  “Not likely Lord Blackstone would be distracted from his mission by some common piece, ma’am.”

  “Do you think so?” Harriet’s face held hope.

  “Absolutely, miss. If he got diverted, and I’m not saying he did, you can be certain it was some high-flyer or prime article, not a low female.”

  Harriet wailed, “Oh, Finch, you are …”

  The sounds of a carriage drawing up at the door caused the spinster to halt her reprimand. Before the butler could react, the lady dashed to the large oak door and threw it open. The old man heard a loud groan, then the spinster collapsed in a heap.

  “Finch!” Lord Giles Edenfield’s voice bellowed from outside. “What the devil is this foolish creature doing blocking the door? Get her out of the way!”

  The butler rushed forward and lifted Miss Parks by the arms, pulling her limp form to a faded, blue satin sofa against the wall, on which he unceremoniously deposited her. He quickly returned to where the viscount and his guest stood. The visitor, removing his gloves, stared at the lump that was Harriet Parks.

  “I say, Giles, didn’t know your cousin was a tippler,” Lord Paden commented in a bored voice. The gentleman was short and barrel-chested, dressed in a crimson coat with garnet pantaloons giving him the look of an overripe cherry.

  “Finch, what is the meaning of this outrage? Has Harriet seen fit to invade my wine cellar?” Giles glared down at the old man. The viscount was taIl and lean with dark brown hair framing a hawk-like face that held a look of perpetual discontent. His one extravagance was his attire and while he was no dandy, he dressed in the first style of elegance.

  “Ain’t cup-shot, my lord. Miss Parks fainted.” Finch glanced over his shoulder at the lady, very much wishing her to revive. He didn’t want to have to be the one to inform his master about the flight of Miss Angelica.

  “Fainted! Harriet’s never been vaporish. What ails her?”

  Giles handed his hat and gloves to the butler, then turned to the mirror above where Miss Parks lay to straighten his cravat, hardly sparing a glance for his unconscious cousin despite his question.

  Finch silently hoped for a miracle to occur before he had to tell his lordship the truth. A moan from the direction of the sofa seemed an answer to his prayers. He turned to see Harriet Parks put her hand to her head, then shot up from the sofa as if she’d been fired from a cannon.

  “G-Giles, we weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.” The spinster wavered on her feet as she stood staring at her cousin, the black of her drab gown making her face appear deadly white.

  “We finished our business early. Erwin was anxious to see his future bride. Where is Angelica?”

  Finch thought Miss Parks was about to swoon again, but at last she squeaked out the word, “Gone.”

  The viscount frowned. “Gone where?”

  Seeing the spinster’s face go ashen and her lips quiver, the butler took pity and blurted out, “Went to visit her godmother in York, sir.”

  “Are you telling me that Angelica left Edenfield and neither of you attempted to stop her?” An icy cold gaze flicked from spinster to butler then back.

  Harriet, at last realizing there was no way to avoid the bare facts, straightened her back even while she began to twist her lace handkerchief. “She never told anyone of her plans. We would certainly have prevented her leaving had we known. But never fear, I have asked your friend, Blackstone, to retrieve her. We were expecting them when you arrived.”

  “Friend?” Edenfield questioned.

  “Blackstone!” Lord Paden roared the word as if he were swearing. “Why the man is not to be trusted with gently bred females!”

  Giles’s mind was racing even as he struggled to control his desire to throttle his foolish cousin. Blackstone was no friend of his, nor had he ever been. What could have given Harriet such an idea? Angelica, no doubt, but he wouldn’t allow his stepsister to jeopardize his chance at gaining entry into Paden’s business undertakings. If she married the baron, Giles knew he’d eventually be one of the wealthiest men in England. The very thought made him lick his lips in anticipation. But how to cover Harriet’s blunder of sending a rake after his tiresome stepsister? He glared at the homely spinster.

  Harriet quaked as she took in the fury in the viscount’s brown eyes. “I-I thought you and the earl had grown up together.”

  Lord Paden’s face had grown quite red. “Likely the chit is ruined if he’s with her. Not a fit wife now.�
��

  Desperate, Giles tried to bluster his way past the baron’s agitation. “Balderdash! ‘Tis like Harriet said, we are all old friends. Why he quite thinks of her as his little sister.”

  “I cannot think that such a hardened rake would be immune to your sister’s beauty over the course of the long journey back from York, no matter the former relationship.”

  Giles felt certain the baron was correct, for Blackstone’s reputation was legend. “Then I say we go after them, for my stepsister’s own good. He is likely still chasing after her, what with all the coaches that leave London for York. We shall drive through the night and perchance reach her before Blackstone does.”

  Paden seemed to ponder this for a few minutes. As visions of the beautiful Miss Markham passed through his mind, he decided he’d waited for her too long to give up now. “Very well, but first we must dine.” He was willing to miss his sleep, but not his supper.

  Finch, Harriet and Giles issued a collective sigh of relief, all for different reasons. Finch because his master hadn’t flown into the boughs and the worst seemed to be over.

  Harriet because Giles hadn’t ordered her from his home, and the viscount because he was certain the baron would marry Angelica before the week was out.

  *

  The sky had grown darkly ominous during the long afternoon of travel, but the earl had continued to drive south toward London. As Angel sat telling him of her life at Edenfield, he realized what an innocent she still was. If half of what she said was true, once Giles inherited the title he must have unleashed all his worst qualities. Somehow it seemed wrong to force her into an unwanted marriage.

  He was tempted to speak to Giles on her behalf, until he realized where his sentimental thoughts were leading him. By George! Had he taken leave of his senses to be thinking about involving himself in this chit’s affairs? After all, such marriages were common in the ton. She was nothing to him after all, was she? Innocent females were clearly dangerous to be around, if one always felt this need to protect them.

  Angelica interrupted his thoughts.

  “When shall we stop for the night?”

  Richard knew no respectable inn would allow the pair to put up since she had no maid or companion. They would have to drive straight through, which was probably best for the young lady’s reputation after all. He was rather too well known to risk stopping at one of the coaching inns, so he would choose some place small to dine and then they would again head south. Instead of telling Angel, he merely said, “Trumpington is the next village, shall we stop and have supper?”

  Angelica’s nerves tingled. She would now be able to put her plan to work. “I should like that.”

  Within a matter of minutes they tooled into the small village. To Angelica’s surprise and disappointment the earl chose the smaller of the two inns of Trumpington, a rather ancient half-timbered building with little sign of life save one aged ostler sitting by the open door.

  As the earl drew his curricle to a halt in front of the establishment, the old man stared like a moonling. Then, when it was clear the vehicle intended to remain there, he struggled to his feet and came to eye the pair. “Are ye certain ye want to stop at the Gray Dove, gov’ner? Quality mostly puts up at the Royal Arms at the other end of the village.”

  “Quite certain, indeed. See to the horses while the lady and I dine.”

  Angelica soon found herself in a small taproom filled with local farmers drinking ale. She stood beside the earl, facing the owner and his plump wife who eyed her with suspicion. Noting the dubious look the woman gave her, Angelica realized for the first time the impropriety of traveling with Richard unaccompanied by a female.

  The innkeeper, seeing an opportunity for making some quick blunt rather than the unseemly situation, stepped forward. “Sir, how may I serve?”

  Thinking it best not to reveal their true names, Richard said, “The name’s Black, Mr. Black. As you can see, Mr…”

  “Miller, sir.”

  “Miller, my ward, Miss Smith, and I are in a great hurry and shall only require a meal this evening in a private parlor, if you have such.” The earl looked around as if he doubted they would be so lucky as to dine in privacy in the small inn.

  The innkeeper glanced nervously at his wife before replying, “Well, sir, Mrs. Miller’s a grand cook, and we’ve a private room for your use, but it’ll take us some time to get a proper meal together, not being used to providin’ for the Quality and all.”

  “Very good. We shall wait in the private parlor until our meal is ready.”

  Angelica, seeing her chance, said, “Perhaps you might show me to a room where I may freshen up and rest until we dine.” She gave Richard an innocent smile when he arched one brow.

  Mrs. Miller signaled to a small buxom maid who was collecting empty tankards. “Sally, take the young lady up to one of the rooms; then come to the kitchen at once. We’ve lots to do.”

  “Mr. Black.” Angelica said the name with mockery. “I hope you don’t mind my leaving you for a while. I am so fatigued. I shall be down when dinner is served.”

  Richard bowed. “Miss Smith, rest well.”

  After the young miss had gone upstairs and the gentleman strolled back out the front door as if he meant to walk about the village, Mrs. Miller sniffed, “If that be a Mr. Black and a Miss Smith, then I’m Queen Charlotte and you’re Mad George, God rest his soul.”

  “Hush, Bessie, and get to cookin’. It don’t matter if he’s Mr. Black or Blackjack the highwayman as long as he pays his shot, and from the looks of him I’d say his pockets are deep. Now, get to the kitchen.” The innkeeper took his wife’s shoulders and turned her in the right direction before giving her a nudge. Bessie was a bit too moral to his way of thinkin’ and he wouldn’t allow her to turn away some easy funds for the sake of what was proper.

  Upstairs, Angelica plotted to get away from Richard. She went to the window and looked out. The dark clouds blotted out the setting sun. The inn was situated at the edge of the woods, which would make it easy for her to hide, but she suddenly knew a moment’s regret. The afternoon in the earl’s company had been pleasant despite the circumstances. He’d been utterly charming, telling her amusing tales of his life in Town, although she was certain they’d been greatly edited for her benefit, and he’d seen to her comfort each time they’d stopped to change horses.

  He’d been like the Richard of old.

  Remembering Giles’s plans for her, she pushed the pleasant thoughts of Richard from her mind. She had to get away.

  Taking a few minutes to refresh herself after the long carriage ride, she then went to the door and listened. Only the low murmur of conversation from the taproom echoed in the hallway. Nervously, she drew the door open and looked out. There was no one about so she quickly tiptoed down the hall toward the backstairs.

  As she made her way down the narrow flight, Angelica could hear Mrs. Miller issuing orders in the kitchen. When she reached the last step, she paused to peek around the corner. Sally was busy building up the fire in the oven.

  Mrs. Miller was slicing meat, all the while complaining to the young maid about the extra work and for such a havey-cavey pair. Neither could see Angelica, so she stepped to the rear door which was near the stairs and exited quietly.

  As the back door clicked shut behind her, Angelica felt a rush of exhilaration at having gotten out of the inn unseen. Once she made it to the safety of the woods, Richard would never find her. She didn’t dwell on what she would do next, only on getting away from the earl.

  In the growing darkness of the impending storm she could see a path which cut through the inn’s small rear garden. The trail passed through a wooden arbor heavy with small white roses and disappeared in the woods beyond.

  She dashed down the path through the arbor and straight into the arms of Lord Blackstone, who’d stepped from behind the arch as she rushed headlong for the woods.

  His arms closed around her and he pulled her to his hard chest. As he stood h
olding her close, an amused smile on his handsome face, Angelica was suddenly flooded with the desire to put her arms around his neck. What madness was this?

  “Going somewhere, Angel?” His voice sounded husky.

  “I-I just thought I might get some air.” Something intense flared within her as she felt the warmth of him through her clothes.

  “I see, and you thought you might best get some air at a full run.”

  Feeling she must remove herself from the all too enticing feel of his arms, Angelica angrily pulled away. “Very well, let there be no more lies. I was trying to get away from you … so I might continue my journey to York.” The last was said with a sniffle.

  Richard held himself in check as he watched her reach up and pluck a flower from the vines growing on the arbor, inhaling its fragrance even as a tear rolled down her porcelain cheek. He was overwhelmed with the desire to again take her in his arms and kiss away dear Angel’s tears, but honor forbade it. He wasn’t certain he could stop after a few kisses, for she was the most enticing woman he’d found himself in company with.

  For once he wished his mother were present to advise him what he should do. Angel should be returned to Edenfield where she properly belonged, but this marriage was so very repugnant to her, how could he be a party to betraying his old friend?

  “Angel, I don’t—”

  Just at that moment Miller came hurrying down the path. “Mr. Black, the first course is prepared and awaitin’ you and Miss Smith in the private parlor.”

  “We shall be there directly.” Richard never took his gaze from Angel as she stood with her back to the innkeeper. After Miller bowed and then disappeared back into the inn, Richard took Angel’s hand, drawing her to face him.

  “My dear, I think we are both tired and quite famished. Shall we go in and have the supper Mrs. Miller has worked so hard to prepare. You will feel more the thing after you have eaten.”

  Richard hoped that was true, for he felt bound by his promise to return Angel to Miss Parks. Perhaps if he found why she was so reluctant to marry, he might better understand and be able to ease her fears. But somehow the idea of Angel being wed left him feeling melancholy.