Ann Lethbridge - Regency Society

Richard had changed into fresh breeches, and there was evidence of a bandage beneath the clinging material. As he seemed to walk a little more easily she assumed that he was feeling better for his man’s attentions.

‘We may as well stay and eat,’ he told her. ‘I am sorry that this journey is taking longer than it ought, Georgie. Had we not been forced to break our journey again, we might have reached your home by this evening. As it is, I am afraid we may have to stay at an inn for one more night.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Georgie said. ‘It wasn’t your fault that we came so close to an accident. Besides, I shall be sorry when we part, sir.’

‘Shall you?’ Richard arched one eyebrow. ‘I thought you could not wait to get away from me when we were in London?’

‘Well, yes, I did think it would be better to leave, but…Jensen did not have a good opinion of me, you see. Mrs Jensen was kind, but she would not let me help her and I felt that I was in the way.’

‘I am sorry if you were made to feel uncomfortable.’

‘Oh, no, it wasn’t their fault, and Mrs Jensen was very kind, even though her husband obviously thought I was…no better than I should be.’ She bit her lip. ‘You must not blame him, for the circumstances were unusual to say the least.’

‘Yes, I suppose it was inevitable that he should have thought the worst,’ Richard said. ‘It might have been better if I had let them think you were my niece or something.’

‘They wouldn’t have believed you. No one would.’ Georgie pulled a rueful face. ‘I told Mrs Jensen I was in desperate trouble. I think she half-believed me, but I am very certain her husband did not.’

‘I have placed you in a difficult position,’ Richard said, eyes narrowed, thoughtful. ‘You stayed at my home without a chaperon and have had only my tiger and Henderson as our companions on this journey. I have, in fact, compromised you, Georgina.’

‘I did that for myself,’ she admitted, a blush in her cheeks. ‘Besides, you were only trying to help me when you took me to your home—and no one needs to know.’

‘Your great-aunt will know,’ Richard observed. ‘At least she will know that you have arrived at her house with a gentleman she does not know and no luggage.’

‘You are a friend of the family,’ Georgie said, ‘and my luggage was lost on the way. We were attacked by ruffians who stole our baggage and that is how you were wounded.’

‘You have a fine imagination,’ Richard said and he wasn’t smiling. ‘How much can I believe of what you say, I wonder?’

‘Everything!’ She sparked with indignation. ‘I did tell you a little white lie when we met, but I had to be wary, for you might have been anybody. Besides, it was not so far from the truth.’

‘But you have made up a string of lies to tell your great-aunt.’

‘Yes, well, I didn’t know what else to say. You talked of having compromised me and…and you must not feel obliged or anything.’ Her cheeks were deep rose with embarrassment. ‘I would not want you to feel that you had to marry me.’

‘Believe me, I don’t!’

‘Oh!’ Georgie glared. ‘Good, because I do not want to marry you. In fact you are the last man I would marry!’

‘Perhaps you would prefer to marry Thierry?’

‘No, of course I wouldn’t! You know I would rather die. I told you so…’ She understood that he was mocking her and threw him a fulminating stare. ‘I never know when you are funning! Of course you don’t want to marry me, and I shan’t expect it—even if my aunt says I am beyond the pale.’

‘Poor Georgie,’ Richard said and smiled. ‘You have got yourself into a pickle, haven’t you?’

‘Yes, I know it was a mad thing to do—but what else could I have done? My uncle meant to force me to marry that odious man and I did the first thing that came into my head. There was no one to help me.’

‘Impulsive,’ Richard murmured. ‘But brave too. I am not sure what else you could have done, but perhaps a little more planning would have had better results. You could perhaps have gathered enough money to hire a post-chaise to your great-aunt’s instead of taking the public stagecoach and getting robbed.’

‘Yes, it would have been better,’ she agreed. ‘I was afraid my uncle would lock me in my room, and then I was careless…’ She lifted her head, giving him a frank look. ‘I think I should have starved or ended up in prison if you hadn’t helped me. I am very grateful, you know—and sorry if I have caused you a deal of trouble.’

Richard looked into her eyes, which just now were soft brown, slightly moist and heart-wrenchingly appealing. He felt something stir inside him, an emotion he could not recall ever feeling before, something warm and tender, an urge to sweep her into his arms, carry her off and hold her for ever in his protection. In another instant he had quashed it. Love was foreign to his nature, an emotion he had long dismissed as being behind him, too dangerous to encourage. There had been women to share his bed, of course, but none of them serious and there had been no one at all for a long time. Perhaps that was why he had been experiencing these sudden swathes of hot desire as he looked at Georgie in her youth’s clothing. Something he felt disturbing and not to be indulged.

He did not want to face the notion that he might truly have feelings for this girl who had come into his life unasked. His work was too dangerous for him to think of marriage; he could be killed by an enemy at any time, and that would leave her a widow before she was a wife.

Besides, they hardly knew one another. It was ridiculous to even consider marriage. Neither of them truly wished for it! If he ever married it would be for an heir, as his sister never tired of telling him he ought to do, but never for love. His experience of these things was that they led only to pain. His mother had died in childbed, leaving his father distraught, a broken man. He had seen his uncle decline after Justin’s death, and the memory still haunted him. No, love was not something he wished to experience.

‘I am glad to have been of help,’ he murmured huskily and meant it. ‘Do not worry, Georgie. If your aunt should turn you away I shall think of something.’

‘I do not wish to be more of a burden than I have been already.’

‘You are not a burden,’ Richard said, his tone becoming harsh all of a sudden. ‘Excuse me, I must speak to Henderson. I trust you have no objection to his joining us in the parlour for our nuncheon as usual? He serves me, but I have been used to treating him as a friend rather than a servant.’

‘Of course not. Why should I?’ Georgie said, though she knew it was something that would not happen when their lives were back to normal. But when that happened she would not see Richard again, except perhaps as a casual acquaintance in town, if she should be fortunate enough to visit.

Georgie felt a hot burning behind her eyes when she realised that she had only a few hours left in his company. In the morning Richard would deliver her to her great-aunt’s home and go on his way, relieved to be rid of her no doubt.

When had she begun to think of him as Richard? And why did the thought of parting weigh heavily on her, making her breast feel as if it were being crushed? After all, he was merely someone who had come to her rescue when she needed him.

That was just it, of course. He had been there when she needed him, and insensibly she had come to think of him as her special friend, someone she could turn to in need. She must put that notion out of her mind. Richard had been considerate, kind and gentle towards her, but he must have found her a nuisance, especially at a time when he was wounded and in danger of his life.