The Long Road to Love Page 6

  The earl moved from the chair on which he’d been sitting, gesturing for young John to be seated. The man removed his coat to reveal a tattered uniform from which all the buttons were missing. He was rather a forlorn sight, which touched Angelica’s heart. As the earl engaged John in conversation about Danny and their life, it occurred to her that the former Private Wiggins might be able to help her get away from Richard come morning. As she raised her gaze to the earl, she felt a tightening in her chest. She wished she didn’t have to flee from him, but he was as determined as ever to return her to Edenfield.

  Regardless of her need to make plans, Angelica was too fatigued to think properly. She excused herself and went to the small alcove to lie on the bed fully clothed. For a long time she listened to the murmur of men’s voices discussing Waterloo. The young soldier had been brave enough to face the French. Would he have the courage to help her escape from Lord Blackstone? She would find out in the morning.

  *

  Angelica awoke with a start. Silence reigned in the small cottage. She jumped up and peered around the curtain, but the room was empty, the open front door allowing the morning sun to fill the room. She wondered where everyone had gone. She retrieved her black traveling gown which had dried during the night and quickly changed. Then she set out to find Richard.

  Going to the threshold, she covered her eyes to shade them from the brightness of the morning sun. As her vision adjusted to the light, she could see great pools of water around the cottage. She noted that two sets of footprints left the porch. One set included large and small ones headed in the direction that Danny had led the horses the night before. The other, large ones only, went off in the direction of their stranded carriage.

  Certain that Richard had gone to the carriage while John and Danny saw to the horses, she followed the Wigginses’ footprints knowing this was her best opportunity to get away, yet somehow feeling she was betraying Richard by leaving. Thinking that a foolish thought, she hurried to find John, hoping she could convince him to help her.

  Within minutes she came to a large stone building which had seen better days. She could hear Danny chattering away to his older cousin. She stepped into the old structure, spying Richard’s matched bays and a large animal that looked more suited to pulling a plow than carrying a soldier.

  Danny was busy brushing one of the bays, while John was putting hay in each stall. Looking up, he spied Angelica and straightened, pulling his hat from his head. “Miss Markham.”

  “Mr. Wiggins, might I have a word with you?”

  “Aye, ye can, but call me John, miss.” The former soldier put down his pitchfork and walked to where the lady stood.

  Angelica took a deep breath, then began. “John, I should like to hire you to take me to York, at once.”

  “Why, Miss Markham, I’d be pleased to ‘elp ye out, but I’m afeared I can’t. ‘Is lordship done ‘ired me. Wants me to come along to Blackstone Abbey with Danny in the next day or so.”

  Angelica at first was delighted that Richard had shown compassion for the young man and his cousin. But that reaction was quickly replaced with anger. She needed John, how dare the earl discover a conscience now!

  “Are ye alright, miss?” John thought the lady looked a bit pale.

  “No, John, I am not. But it seems there is little you can do to help, thanks to Lord Blackstone. It appears I shall have to walk to York.” Saying that Angelica left the barn.

  With no particular destination in mind, she wandered into the nearby woods, her shoulders sagging in defeat. After walking for several minutes, she settled herself on a log, heedless of the dampness. She was overwhelmed with defeat. She had run out of ideas, and Edenfield was scarcely half a day’s ride away.

  *

  Richard had risen early and gone to inspect the damage to his carriage. It was minimal, and all he required was someone to dig it out. In the light of day, he could see the bridge that they’d failed to reach the night before.

  The water had receded, and men with shovels worked at both ends, filling in the washed-out trenches cut by the raging river during the storm.

  Thinking he might hire some of the men to dig out his curricle, he strolled to the bridge. He was speaking with a burly man, who seemed to be the leader, when a shout echoed from the opposite end of the bridge.

  “Stand clear, you oafs. I’m in a hurry.” The workmen scattered, and a carriage bearing two men bumped along the freshly laid dirt and rocks until it reached the smooth stone of the bridge.

  Richard recognized an unshaven Viscount Edenfield, Angelica’s stepbrother. His gaze moved to the short, husky man seated beside him. Instinctively he knew this was Lord Paden. What the deuce was Giles thinking to be marrying Angel to a man who looked old as the ark and half as big?

  As the carriage lumbered across the bridge, Giles spied Richard. The viscount reined his team to a halt and demanded, “Where the devil is my stepsister, Blackstone?”

  Richard bowed to his neighbor, then allowed his gaze to drift to Giles’s companion. Seeing the hostility on the lined face of Angel’s so-called fiancé made the earl feel ill that she would soon belong to such a man. Without any conscious thought about what was best, he replied, “Dash it, man, can’t you see my carriage is near ruin from being stuck in the mud? Do you think I have had time to run your caper-witted charge to ground, stranded like I am?”

  The men in the carriage exchanged a look of relief and understanding. Giles was suddenly all affability. “Then I must thank you for your efforts and inform you that your assistance is no longer needed. Lord Paden, my stepsister’s fiancé, and I are on our way to York, and we shall bring

  Miss Markham home.”

  Richard shrugged as if it didn’t matter to him. “Very well, as you wish. I shall gladly return to my own affairs.”

  The earl bowed, thinking his own affairs now included Miss Markham.

  The viscount smugly tugged his hat, then whipped his team into a canter. Lord Paden gave Richard one last dismissive glance as the carriage disappeared down the road.

  What the devil had gotten into him, Richard wondered.

  But he couldn’t regret saving Angel from that aging roué. She was too beautiful to be forced into an unwanted marriage, no matter how advantageous. The problem was, he didn’t have the least idea what he should do with her now.

  Seeing the idle workman staring curiously, he pushed the problem from his mind and arranged to have his carriage dug out and returned to the Wigginses’ cottage.

  As he strolled back to tell Angel his change of heart, Richard realized the only place he could take her was to his mother in Bath. She would know what to do with the chit. He suddenly wondered if Angel would smile at him in that endearing way when he told her the news. The very thought made him pick up his pace.

  Chapter Five

  Richard halted at the open doorway and knew at once that the cottage was empty. In a flash, the disturbing thought that Angel had slipped away on foot to resume her journey to York filled him with unease. The very idea that she was so desperate to escape him caused an ache within him which he couldn’t identify. In frustration, he turned and scanned the vista, then hurried down the path to where John and Danny were tending the horses.

  Richard hoped Angel was at the old stable. He was overwhelmed with a sense of urgency to tell her that he was taking her to Bath instead of Edenfield.

  Arriving at the stable, he called, “John, have you seen Miss Markham?”

  The young man stepped out of a stall, pitchfork in hand. “Aye, my lord, she was ‘ere a few minutes ago askin’ bout me takin’ ‘er to York. If that’s what ye want, I’ll do it.”

  Richard smiled as relief filled him. “She’ll change her mind about returning to York once I tell her my news. Where has she gotten to?”

  “Wandered into the woods just there.” John pointed out the direction.

  “Some men from the village are bringing my curricle. If you will ready the carriage, Miss Markham and I sha
ll leave as soon as I find her. We are going to Bath, but I shall return to Blackstone Abbey before you arrive.”

  “Very good, my lord.” John beamed. “We’ll be there.”

  Richard went in search of Angel. He soon came upon her perched on a fallen log, looking forlorn. “Good morning, my dear.”

  The lady started at the sound of his voice as a pair of violet-blue eyes gazed bleakly at him.She sigh as if seemly accepting her fate.

  “Good morning, my lord.”

  Coming to stand in front of her, Richard said, “I have just spoken with your brother.”

  Angelica bounded up, a hint of fear showing on her beautiful face. “He is here!”

  Afraid she might rush into the woods before she heard the news, Richard took her by the shoulders. “He is on his way to York, even as we speak.”

  “But … how?”

  “I was so overcome at the honor of meeting Lord Paden I simply forgot to mention that you were with me. Your stepbrother urged me to return home before he set out for York.” The earl smiled as he dropped his hands from her and watched the realization dawn on Angel’s face.

  “Oh, Richard, you are wonderful!” Angelica threw her arms around his neck and, without a thought, kissed him. Suddenly realizing the impropriety of her actions she stepped back and blushed at the growing grin on Richard’s handsome face.

  Hoping to cover her confusion, she said, “So, you will take me to York?”

  “Never, dear girl.”

  “But I thought since you …” Angelica’s voice petered out. What was the earl planning on doing with her? Had he mistaken her kiss as an invitation to offer herself carte blanche? Straightening her shoulders, she haughtily asked, “What pray tell, are your plans, sir?

  Richard was amused at her tone. “Don’t be cross as crabs with me. ‘Tis only that York is out of the question. Would you have us overtake Giles on the road there, for I never knew a man who was more cow-handed handling the ribbons. I’m taking you to my mother in Bath.”

  Relief flooded Angelica. He might be a notorious rake, but he was still her old dear friend. “You truly are a knight to the rescue. I should like to go to Bath.”

  Richard entwined her arm with his. “What say you to breakfast in Throcking? This business of rescuing a damsel in distress leaves one rather sharp set.”

  Angelica laughed. She liked the feel of Richard’s arm beneath her hand. Suddenly the future was again bright.

  She would stay with Lady Blackstone until she reached her majority. Then what?

  Looking up at Richard as they made their way back to the Wigginses’ cottage, Angelica knew she didn’t want to think beyond the present. She would merely enjoy her time in Bath with the earl and his mother. A future without Richard suddenly looked dreary.

  *

  Augusta, Dowager Countess of Blackstone, resided in a comfortable house on Great Pulteney Street in Bath. Her decision to move from the family home had come a year earlier when, arriving unexpectedly at their town house in Berkeley Square, she’d come upon a party of her son and his raffish friends, each with an extremely vulgar actress in tow. She’d promptly turned on her heel and ordered the carriage to take her to her cousin in Bath, vowing not to set foot in any of her son’s residences until he had a proper wife.

  After staying with her cousin for six months, Augusta at last gave up waiting for her son to fall in with her plans and leased the house in which she currently lived with her outspoken sister, Mrs. Gertrude Harris. Though the dowager’s sibling had inherited a comfortable income at the death of her husband, she’d been delighted to join Lady Blackstone in Bath.

  On this warm August afternoon the ladies were seated in the drawing room, waiting for tea to be brought. Gertrude, red-haired with a smattering of freckles on her plump face, sat reading the Bath papers. She lowered the news and inquired, “Do you wish to go to the theater this week, Augusta? The newspaper states they are doing a revival of Sheridan’s The Rivals.”

  The dowager, a handsome woman who’d grown stout and grey with age, looked up from her book of poetry, thoughtfully tugging at the lappet on her frilly white cap.

  “Perhaps on Friday, my dear.”

  The door to the drawing room opened at that moment and Bergman, the butler, entered. “My lady, Lord Blackstone and a young lady are here.”

  Hope swelled in Augusta’s heart as she sat up. While Richard had visited her regularly, he’d brought no one with him before. “Show them in quickly, Bergman.”

  Within minutes Richard and a young lady dressed in the black of mourning entered the room, crushing Augusta’s plans for a possible marriage for her son. She eyed the woman closely, thinking something was familiar about her.

  Richard surveyed his mother to gauge her mood. He was pleased to see her smiling. Looking back at Angel encouragingly, he thought her very pale in her black traveling dress and bonnet, her eyes looking more violet than blue. He fought the urge to take her in his arms to reassure her, for he suddenly realized that her welfare had begun to occupy his thoughts constantly. Turning to the seated ladies, he said, “Good afternoon, Mother, Aunt Gertrude.”

  The dowager arched one brow. “What a surprise, my dear. I thought you were off to some house party in the country.” She leaned a mildly lined cheek up for her son to kiss.

  “I had an unexpected change of plans.”

  Gertrude Harris eyed the beauty in black with hostility.Her opinion of her nephew’s lifestyle couldn’t be lower and she always let him know it.

  “Richard, this is a new low for you. Always before you allowed the gentleman to get cold in the ground before making off with the widow.”

  Richard opened his mouth as if to give his aunt a tongue lashing, but he knew he’d be wasting his breath. His concern was getting Angel settled, and his aunt’s comment had left the young lady with pink cheeks. He smiled reassuringly at her, ignoring Gertrude’s jibe.

  The dowager was stunned at Richard’s acceptance of the barb, for he usually returned his aunt’s rude remarks with equal sharpness.

  “Mother, you remember Miss Angelica Markham from Edenfield. Angel, my mother, Lady Blackstone, and my aunt, Mrs. Gertrude Harris.”

  As the young lady made a proper curtsy to them, Augusta stared at the girl in black mourning garb. Good heavens, this beauty couldn’t be that skinny child Richard used to bring home for tea, but it appeared so. “Why, my dear Angel, I wouldn’t have recognized you. You’ve changed so. Forgive me, I’m forgetting my manners. Please accept my condolences on your loss.”

  Angelica was pleased that the countess called her by her childhood name, but was surprised to find herself so embarrassed by the situation. “Oh, I am not in mourning, Lady Blackstone. This is …” She trailed off and looked at Richard.

  The earl, realizing how difficult explaining would be, took Angelica’s hand. “Mother, ‘tis a long story, and Angel is fatigued. We were hoping she might stay here with you. I’m sure once you’ve heard her story you will agree, but for now I think the lady needs to rest.”

  Augusta was curious, but the one thing she took note of was Richard’s gaze as it rested on Angel. The look was almost a caress. Was it possible her son was enamored with their beautiful neighbor? Pulling herself from this hopeful thought, the dowager smiled at her guest. “I should be delighted for you to stay, my dear. Gertrude, pray, have one of the maids take Miss Markham to the Blue Room, and speak with Cook about two more places for dinner.”

  Gertrude, filled with curiosity about the mysterious young lady they called Angel, escorted the girl from the room, hoping Augusta would find out why Richard was in company with a genteel young lady. She often criticized him for his more outrageous exploits because they occasionally embarrassed her sister, but he always kept to women of a certain type, and the lady he’d arrived with was definitely not such a woman.

  Augusta waited until her sister had led Miss Markham from the room. She gestured for her son to take the seat across from her. “Richard, I am certain
I don’t have to remind you of the danger to Angel’s reputation to be traveling alone with you, so I shall simply ask why the young lady needs to stay with me.”

  Richard quickly told his mother the tale. When he came to the part about meeting the baron at the bridge, the earl became so agitated that he stood and began to pace. The more he spoke of protecting Angel from the unwanted marriage, the more Augusta was certain her son had fallen in love with the beauty and didn’t even realize it.

  Settling back into his chair when he’d finished, Richard grew quiet and then said, “Mother, we have traveled alone for two days together. I think I should do the proper thing and marry her.”

  It took every bit of strength Augusta had to prevent her from shouting yes, but she wanted her son’s marriage to be a happy one. He must come to realize his true feeling and not offer for the girl out of duty. “You know Angel better than I. Do you think she would accept a marriage of convenience?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Then I think it best not to worry her over that matter. Leave her with me. I am certain you have much to do at the estate since your visit was interrupted. I shall need some time to dress the dear girl before I introduce her to Bath society.”

  Richard frowned. “You intend to take her about?”

  “But of course, my dear. Angel needs a husband of her choosing. Besides, I shall enjoy outfitting her and escorting her to the private parties of my friends.”

  The earl grew quiet. He was certain Angel would be considered a diamond of the first water in Bath. But he was equally certain he didn’t want to be around to watch all the gentleman swarm about her. The very thought caused a sharp pain in his chest. What was the matter with him? It was high time he got back to his own affairs. All he needed was the charms of some lusty actress or some sultry widow to help him forget about the dark-haired beauty upstairs.

  Richard rose abruptly and kissed his mother. “I think I shall allow you to handle matters for Angel. If I leave now I can reach Blackstone Abbey before midnight.”