Sarah Mallory - Pursued For The Viscount's Vengeance

The streets were busy and it seemed to Deborah that all her friends and acquaintances were out of doors, smiling and nodding when they saw her. She returned their smiles, knowing that gossip would be rife by the morning.

‘You are very well known in Fallbridge, Miss Meltham.’

‘It is my home, sir.’

‘But you have a house in Liverpool, too, do you not? I should have thought that would have been your preference. After our conversation over supper the other night I know your lively mind enjoys the arts and theatre.’

She did not reply and he asked her what had influenced her to live in this small market town. She considered her words carefully before answering.

‘When Randolph and I were children our time was divided between here and the house in Liverpool. Mama loved Fallbridge, but Papa still had some interest in the shipping company that our grandfather started and was obliged to be in Liverpool for several months of each year. We always went with him. It was very different from Fallbridge and we did not have the freedom of the country, but the house was so large Ran and I could spend hours playing hide and seek, from the attics to the cellars.’ She laughed. ‘I have no doubt the servants thought us a veritable nuisance!’

‘It sounds like a very happy childhood.’

‘It was.’ She stopped, swallowing a sigh as she wished it was possible to return to those carefree days.

‘And now you live alone with your brother?’

‘Yes.’ She nodded.

‘And your mother?’

‘She died just a year after Papa. She had been in poor health for a long time.’

‘I am very sorry. Who—?’

He broke off and she looked up at him, brows raised.

‘Yes? What were you going to ask, sir?’

‘Forgive me if I am impertinent, but did you not need a chaperon, if your mother was so ill?’

‘A widowed aunt had lived with us for years and continued to do so for a while after Mama died. Now, of course, I have Randolph.’

She said no more. He did not need to know Ran had insisted they live alone, that he was too ashamed to have anyone other than Deborah know of his addictions.

Mama had always planned for Deb to make her come-out in London under her aunt’s aegis and they would take Ran with them. But that had been postponed because of Papa’s ill health and when he died Deb had given up her dreams of a glittering presentation. By then Ran was already drinking and gambling to excess and she had been afraid to expose him to the temptations of the capital. She had always hoped that at Oxford he would make new, more sober friends and grow out of his excesses. A vain hope, she realised now.

‘And now you live here most of the year.’

‘Yes.’ Should she say more? ‘You may think it odd that a young man like my brother would choose to live in such a small out-of-the-way place. Randolph suffers from, from ill health. It is better that we live quietly.’

‘I see.’

There was such a wealth of sympathy in the two words that Deb was tempted to tell him everything, to unburden herself of the cares and worries that beset her. But, no. He was little more than a stranger, after all, and Randolph did not like her discussing family matters.

‘Your brother is lucky to have such a devoted sister.’

‘Anyone would do as much.’ She added lightly, ‘And Fallbridge really is a very agreeable town. We have everything we need here for entertainment. The countryside is very fine, there is some hunting to be had in the season. And we are not ten miles from the coast.’

‘Yes, I have noticed you have the benefit of bracing sea air,’ he commented as the wind made a sudden snatch at his hat.

Deb laughed. ‘Very bracing!’

She put a hand up to her face. Several wisps of hair had escaped and were curling about her face. She tried to tuck them back under her bonnet.

‘No, don’t do that.’ Her fingers stilled. He added softly, ‘It suits you.’

Her cheeks flamed and she walked on quickly, unable to think of a suitable reply.

‘Do you know,’ he continued, in a conversational tone, ‘I have made myself familiar with the local rides around here, but I have not yet been to the coast.’ He stopped and turned to face her. ‘Do you ride, Miss Meltham?’

She should walk on, but her feet had stopped, too.

‘Yes, I do.’

‘Do you have a groom to accompany you? If so, there could be no impropriety if we were to take a little trip together. Will you not take pity upon a poor stranger and ride out with him?’

Deborah hesitated. They would be gone from breakfast until dinner. It was unthinkable. She determined to say no, but then she looked up to find him smiling down at her and she could not speak at all.

‘Say you will come with me,’ he murmured. ‘I promise I will look after you.’

Physically, perhaps, but that was not what was worrying her. Deb was aware of her growing attachment to Mr Victor. It would be wiser not to see too much of him. And yet...

Ran was engaged to go shooting with Sir Geoffrey and a party of friends at the beginning of the week. They would make an early start and he would dine at Gomersham Lodge, so Deborah would have the day to herself.

‘I might be free on Monday,’ she said slowly.

His smile deepened. ‘Monday it is, then. I shall call for you.’

She shook her head, suddenly panicked. ‘I do not know; it is not certain I shall be able to come.’

‘Then you may send word to me at the George.’ He hesitated. ‘Will you not take my arm for the remainder of the journey? No one would take it amiss, I am sure, for the wind is much stronger now we are clear of the town and I am afraid it might blow you away.’

* * *

What was she doing?

Deborah handed her cloak to Speke, but instead of going upstairs she went into the morning room and ran to the window, just in time to see her escort striding out of the drive. When he was no longer in sight she turned away with a sigh. He was handsome, kind and gentlemanlike.

And dangerous.

She shook her head, as if to clear the doubts. It was not really dangerous, it was only a ride, after all. She would take her groom, who could be relied upon to look after her. She would enjoy a day’s riding in agreeable company. It was nothing more than that.

Having made her decision, Deb went off in search of her brother, but by the time she went to bed she had still not told him of her forthcoming excursion, and as she drifted off to sleep she knew she would not disclose it to him. Not until after the event.

* * *

Monday morning dawned to a heavy mist, but by the time Gil reached Kirkster House it had burned off and the day promised to be fine. As he trotted up the drive he saw Deborah Meltham riding out of the stables on a neat bay mare, a groom following at a respectful distance behind her. She was wearing a dark green riding habit and her hair was firmly clipped back beneath the matching hat, but the severity of her outfit only enhanced her trim figure.

She was looking serious as she came up to him and he said without preamble, ‘Are you having second thoughts, Miss Meltham?’

The way her green eyes flew to his face told him he was right. Part of him hoped she would tell him she had changed her mind, that she would not go with him, but he knew he would be bitterly disappointed if she did that and not just because it would be a setback to his plans.

She leaned forward to pat the bay’s neck. ‘We go out rarely now, so it will be good take Bramble for an airing.’

She had not really answered his question, but he let that go. He turned his horse and came alongside her.

‘Is she fast?’ he asked, nodding at the mare.

‘Fast enough,’ she said and Gil noticed the sober look had been replaced by a definite twinkle. ‘We ride cross country most of the way, so you shall see for yourself.’