Mary Nichols - The Reluctant Escort

‘No, indeed not,’ he said, thinking of the voluptuous Harriet. ‘But I think your figure is very pleasing as it is.’

‘Do you? Oh, that is very civil of you. I think you are the most handsome of men, even if you are lacking in chivalry.’

‘Am I so?’

‘I have been reading Don Quixote. You know he was always rescuing damsels in distress. You are not at all like him. He would never have slapped Jenny’s rump while I was unprepared for it.’

‘He was also more than a little touched in the attic, I collect. He thought windmills were giants.’

‘But it didn’t stop him wanting to fight them, big as they were. He was very brave.’

‘There are times, my dear, when bravery is foolhardy in the extreme. Have you never heard the saying “discretion is the better part of valour”?’

‘Yes, but that is a very dull maxim.’

‘Then I must be the dullest of men.’

‘Oh, I do not believe that. Why, you said yourself you are a rakeshame and you cannot be that if you are too cautious. And I am sure you are not cautious at all. I believe you thrive on risk. Look how you came back to the Red Lion and sat and ate your dinner as calm as you please. And the way you answered the constable.’

He smiled. ‘You didn’t do so badly yourself, though I cannot think why you did it.’

‘I was afraid they would go up to your room and find the man with the scar. Not to mention the gold.’

‘Gold?’ he repeated furiously. ‘I have already told you I have no gold.’

‘So you have,’ she mused aloud. ‘I wonder what you can have done with it?’

‘Molly, you will make me very angry if you mention that again.’

‘Very well, have your little secret, if you must, but how am I to help you, if I do not know the truth?’

He turned to her in astonishment. ‘Help me?’

‘Of course,’ she said placidly. ‘A man travelling to London with his wife is not the same as two masked men on horseback, now is it?’

‘London?’ he repeated. ‘Wife?’

‘Oh, I do not mean you to marry me, but we could pretend. Just until we reached the capital.’

‘I do not have to make an honest woman of you, then?’ he teased. ‘I thought in the best tradition of the lady novelists you would insist upon it.’ Talking to her made a refreshing change from the horrors which often invaded his thoughts; she was like a breath of spring air, light and joyful, the foretaste of the warmth of summer. And he had been too long in the cold.

‘I am not such a ninny as to want to shackle myself to a man who has no great love for me. That would spell disaster. And besides, I mean to enjoy my Season if I am so fortunate as to have one, and how can I do that if I am already married?’

‘How very sensible of you,’ he murmured, smiling a little.

‘You are laughing at me,’ she said.

‘No, I was thinking of your mama and what she might say when she found you on her doorstep.’

‘She will be very pleased to see me.’

‘Oh, I am sure she would.’ And this time he did not hide his smile as he added, ‘When she recovered from the shock. How are we to explain your arrival in my company? I am, after all, a rakeshame and you have no chaperon.’

She had no idea what she was talking about, he realised. The romantic reading which had been so large a part of her education might talk of ruined reputations, but he doubted if she had any conception of what it meant in practice. ‘Have you any idea what would happen when we arrived in London and it became known you had openly admitted to spending a whole night in my company?’ he asked.

‘Two nights,’ she corrected him.

‘You would be vilified. Everyone would cut you dead. There would be no Season. Your mother would disown you. And every ne’er-do-well in the capital would take it into his head…’ He paused. ‘No, I will not go into that.’

‘Then you must become a reformed character, concerned only for my welfare and good name. Lady Connaught charged you with bringing me safely to my mother and you discharged that duty faithfully.’

‘She would never do that unless you were travelling with a female companion, a maid, who slept in your room.’

She laughed. ‘Don’t be a goosecap, Captain; even I know maids do not sleep in the same room as a married couple.’

‘Not married,’ he said. ‘Being escorted, very properly escorted.’

‘Oh, I see. But I have no maid. Mama said it was not in the least necessary for me to have one. Her maid always helped me when I was at home, but since she sold the house…’

‘Sold the house?’ he queried in surprise.

‘Yes. The Colonel did not leave a great deal and all Mama had was a small pension. She was in debt and being dunned by everyone. She needed to realise all her assets to pay for her Season in London. It was an investment. She explained it all to me. She has rented a house in Holles Street and bought a carriage and horses. But when she has found her next husband we shall have a new home and everything we need.’

‘I can hardly credit it,’ he said, his fury with Harriet almost boiling over. He had always known Harriet was selfish and a gambler, but he had never thought she would treat her own daughter in such a ramshackle manner. ‘Do you mean to say you are homeless?’

‘I have—had—a home with Lady Connaught until Mama came about. And I suppose I could say I have a home in Holles Street. And if you are going to London…’

‘Who said I was?’

‘No one, but you are, aren’t you?’

‘No,’ Duncan said firmly. ‘The idea is out of the question.’

‘Oh, please, Captain. I will not be a trouble to you, I promise. I will be as quiet as a mouse and do as you bid…’

‘Impossible,’ he said. ‘I am ready to wager you could not keep quiet however hard you tried; I never heard such a chatterbox. And as for doing as you are told, give me leave to doubt that too.’

‘Then I shall not promise it, only that I will try my best.’ She turned a smile on him that made his heart turn over and almost took his breath away. ‘I cannot say fairer than that, can I?’

‘No,’ he admitted.

‘Then you will take me?’

‘I cannot.’ The further they went from Stacey Manor, the more difficult it would be for him to return Molly to his grandmother, but the young chit had been right when she said a husband and wife would attract less attention. They were still too near the scene of the action. But it was impossible. Out of the question. He had not yet stooped so low as to ruin a young lady’s reputation.

She was silent for a moment, but only a moment. ‘Have you been in London during the Season, Captain?’

‘Many years ago, before I became a soldier.’

‘And did you not find the lady of your dreams there?’

‘I thought so at the time, but nothing came of it.’

‘Oh, you were crossed in love. How sad for you. Is that why you have become a gentleman of the road?’

He laughed again but this time she detected a little bitterness in it. ‘I have admitted to being no such thing. Now do you think we might change the subject?’

‘Certainly, if you find it painful. Tell me, what do young ladies do during the Season? I have read some of Miss Austen’s books and others on etiquette and it seems to me there are a great many pitfalls. How do they know who is eligible and who is not? So much of it seems to rely on hearsay. Surely one needs more than that? After all, everyone must have a different idea about what makes a perfect partner. And how can mere acquaintanceship turn to love if you are never allowed to be alone with a man even for a minute? After all, he might seem very charming and unexceptional when in company, but turn out to be the very opposite when it is too late.’