Mary Nichols - The Westmere Legacy

There was an inn across the road which had only minutes before been swarming with rioters but, having drunk it dry, they had now moved on. It was hardly the place to take a delicately nurtured young lady, but there was no help for it. He scrambled to his feet and retrieved her hat, which he put it into her hands, before stooping and picking her up in his arms as easily as if she were a child. Kicking the door of the inn open, he carried her inside and sat her on a settle, seating himself beside her. ‘Better rest here until the furore has died down.’

It was a dingy, low-ceilinged room, its paintwork blackened by smoke and with an all-pervading smell of stale beer, which caught in her nostrils and made her choke. No one came to serve them, which was not at all surprising, but a young lad of eleven or twelve stood in the doorway of the back room, staring at them with curiosity. ‘Sixpence if you catch the grey horse and bring it here,’ Robert said. ‘And another for bringing the black stallion you will find tethered in the yard of The King’s Head.’ The boy disappeared with alacrity.

‘He might bring the rioters back with him,’ Bella murmured.

‘No, they are too intent on what they are doing.’ He left her and returned with a glass of water. Sitting beside her, he helped her drink it. Then he took the glass away and fetched a bowl of water. ‘I couldn’t find a clean cloth,’ he said, taking a linen handkerchief from his coat pocket and dipping it in the bowl. ‘Let me see how bad that injury is.’

Robert’s fingers were very gentle as he washed the blood from her hair and the back of her head. ‘It’s not as severe as I first thought,’ he said, moving his hand from the back of her head and stroking her cheek with his forefinger. ‘My poor Bella, you are as pale as a ghost.’

She tried not to think of what his gentle touch was doing to her, making her go hot and cold all over. Or was it the shock of being thrown from her horse? How fortunate it was that he had been on hand or she would have been trampled to death. ‘I am only a little shaken,’ she said. ‘I shall be right as ninepence by and by, thank you.’

‘My pleasure.’ He was smiling, which made the purple swelling below his eye more pronounced. She wondered if it hurt him as much as her head hurt her. She supposed it did, though he gave no indication of it.

‘Robert, what are you doing here?’

‘Looking after you.’

‘No, I do not mean that. I meant in Eastmere.’

‘I came to see if I could be of any use to James. They were talking about him in The King’s Head where I had my dinner. It seems they think he is the most likely to hand over money without putting up too much resistance on account of his children.’

‘Do you think he is in danger?’

‘Hard to tell, but he would be well advised to give them what they want.’

‘Or they will give him a taste of what they gave you.’

He smiled ruefully, touching his bruised cheek. ‘Something like that.’

‘Did it happen in Ely, after I left?’

‘Ely, Eastmere, what’s the difference?’ he said enigmatically. It would not help the situation if she felt she ought to be grateful to him. Gratitude was not what he wanted. ‘The whole countryside is in ferment.’

‘You don’t think the Comtesse is right, do you? About revolution, I mean.’

‘No, I do not. But as soon as I have seen you safely home, I will go and see James. I might be able to help.’

‘I am not going home.’

‘No? Where were you going?’

‘I was on my way to Downham Market to find Miss Battersby.’

‘Old Batters? Why?’

‘I need her advice.’

‘Oh, I see.’ He knew what she meant and questioned whether the elderly servant would offer wise counsel, but he did not say so. He grinned impishly. ‘Riding into a riot and being knocked senseless was preferable to choosing a husband, is that it?’

‘It is no laughing matter.’

‘The riot or choosing a husband?’

‘Both.’ Bella paused, wishing she did not feel so dizzy. ‘I don’t know what to do about it. Grandfather is not at all well, and if I defy him he might have a seizure. I am very fond of him…’

‘Of course you are, my dear, but he has been excessively unkind to you. While other young ladies of your age are being taken to Town for a Season, going to balls and soirées and picnics, you are stuck in the country with an old skinflint who thinks more of preserving his lands and estate than the sensibilities of his granddaughter.’

‘He is not a skinflint,’ she said, staunchly defending the Earl. ‘It is just that he is getting old and plagued by gout, which makes him crotchety. And he is worried about what will become of me when…’ She could not bring herself to end the sentence.

‘Loyal as always, my dear. I would not blame you if you damned the lot of us.’

‘It is not your fault.’

‘No, nor Edward’s either. Fond of old Teddy, aren’t you?’

She looked up at him, startled by his tone. ‘Yes, of course, but I am fond of you, too…’

‘Nice of you to say so,’ Robert said laconically as the sounds of rioting faded. It was now uncannily quiet and he assumed the men had moved on. Soon it would be safe to leave and he would have to take Bella home. It would be the end of their delightful tête-à-tête. ‘But I am persuaded there is a difference. He is the rightful heir and I do believe his lordship is being perverse just to amuse himself.’

‘I do not find it amusing.’

‘No, of course you don’t. But stands to reason that he expects you to choose Edward. There is no alternative.’

‘Edward is engaged.’

‘No, he has not yet offered.’

‘You do not mean he would repudiate it? Oh, Robert, I cannot believe that of him—he is an honourable man.’

‘A title and great wealth are powerful arguments. I am glad I do not have to make the choice.’

She said nothing for a minute while she thought about what he had said, which only served to convince him he had been right—it was only Edward’s previous attachment which was holding her back. ‘You should think of yourself sometimes, you know,’ he went on. ‘Why don’t you ask his lordship to give you a Season in Town, see you launched properly? You might meet someone else more to your liking. Someone eligible.’

‘Oh, that would be wonderful. But how could I go? There is no one to bring me out.’

‘Mama would do it,’ he said. ‘She is taking a house in Town for the Season.’

‘Grandfather would not let me go. He will not let me go anywhere until I have said which one of you I will marry.’

‘Then we are at a stand.’

Her head was clearing rapidly and she was suddenly possessed of an idea which was so audacious and yet so simple that she wondered why she had not thought of it before. ‘There is something you could do for me,’ she said slowly.

‘Anything, my dear Bella. Anything in my power.’

‘If Grandfather could be convinced I had made my choice, he would drop the subject.’

‘Naturally he would.’

‘Then, please, offer for me.’

‘Me?’ He could not believe his ears.

‘Oh, do not look so shocked. I do not mean it to be a real engagement, but if we could only pretend…’

He was puzzled and intrigued, too. ‘And what purpose would that serve?’

‘What I need is time and it would give me that and…and a little freedom to be myself for a few weeks. If we told his lordship we had come to an understanding, he would agree to let me pay a visit to your mama, wouldn’t he? If Cousin Henrietta would be so kind as to invite me. I truly cannot think properly while I am at Westmere. Being away might help.’

‘Bella, I do believe that knock on your head has addled your brains. Have you thought about how you will bring it to an end, even if I should agree? I’m not the sort to make and break engagements, you know. It’s just not the done thing. The whole ton will cut me dead as soon as it is known. I will not be received in any respectable hostess’s drawing room. And Lord Westmere will be furious, not to mention Edward.’