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“Near enough. But Mabel risked her life to smuggle in the victuals necessary to sustain mine, didn’t you, Mabel?” Miss Scott turned her head to address Mabel cheerfully.
“Now, miss, I didn’t quite risk me life, but—” the maid began doubtfully, earning a grumble from her mistress as the girl turned back to Theo.
“Mabel has loyalty and good sense in abundance, but she has no sense of occasion.”
“But a proper sense of occasion is rather necessary, given the seriousness of this one, don’t you think?” Theo enquired. While he found her chatter momentarily diverting, his concerns over the next few hours prevented him from entering into conversation that was a little more lighthearted. “We need to get you somewhere safe and respectable.”
“But you have already decided you can’t do that tonight, surely? It’s too dark to go anywhere,” she pointed out. She clutched the blanket to her and shivered theatrically. “Unless I am warmed in front of a blazing fire very soon, I shall catch my death of cold—and it will be at your door, Mr McAlister.”
She could have no idea of the chill her supposedly lighthearted words sent through him. Theo stared woodenly ahead and tried to ignore the cacophony of images—newsprint pages and parodies involving him and a young woman, now dead—that had all but destroyed his life.
“What would Mrs Hodge say?” he managed, instead. Lame words but the only safe, innocuous words he could manage.
“She won’t know, and we don’t need to tell her. She’s a bitter, sour old puss, and I’m the opposite of her; as sweet as marzipan. Surely I’d be a nice addition to your evening?” She stretched her arms, adding, “You can send me on my way tomorrow. But for now, I shan’t be any bother, I promise.” The way her mouth turned up did nothing to improve his humour.
“The sooner you are back in the schoolroom, Miss Scott, the more relieved your benefactress and I will be.” He knew he sounded grumpy when he should be offering the soothing comfort needed by a young person who’d been through such a terrible ordeal—of which he was not entirely innocent—but the last thing he needed right now was a young lady on his hands who might prove difficult to reunite with her family.
“I’m no longer in the schoolroom, Mr McAlister. In fact, I am on my way to a house party to decide if I shall wed.”
He couldn’t hide his surprise, and this clearly delighted her. “You wouldn’t look so astonished if you’d seen me bedecked in jewels and wearing the modish gow
n my evil benefactress finally sanctioned for my ‘coming-out’ ball.” Her smile dissolved. “Not that I’ll be wearing that or any of the other lovely gowns Mabel packed for the Yuletide Ball in five days, or the other entertainments that have been arranged. I gather you couldn’t find my trunk, Mr McAlister.”
“To be perfectly honest, I gave it no thought until I was on my way out from seeing your coachman. However, I’ve instructed the local publican to do a thorough search, with a reward.”
“I hope it’s not at the bottom of the river,” she said anxiously. “Imagine if I lost all my beautiful clothes. I don’t think anything could be worse.”
“Your betrothed would be a great deal more anxious about your safety than the safety of your wardrobe. You’ll need to get a message to him, and your benefactress, though I would suggest you leave my name out of it.”
“He’s not my betrothed as I haven’t accepted him yet.” Miss Scott shrugged. “To tell the truth, I’m not sure I will, which makes my evil benefactress wild with fury. Oh, I do love it when I can do that.” She hugged herself, but he saw her shudder and wondered if it was from the cold or contemplation of the wonderful effect of her wickedness. He couldn’t help but admire that, at least. He’d felt exactly the same when defying his late pater.
As he drew up in front of the stone farmhouse in which he lived these days, he turned, dropping the reins loosely in his lap, and asked, “Despite the fact that you are all but betrothed, would you really choose to spend the night under the roof of a strange gentleman because you refuse to pursue any other of the many alternatives I have put to you?”
She smiled, and he scowled back as he reached out to remove a willow leaf that had become encrusted in the mud on her forehead.
“Yes, Mr McAlister, because there are no alternatives. If you did lodge me with any respectable female, such as the lady who runs the Ladies Seminary, for instance, she would be most put out at this late hour, and even though I realise doing such a thing would be far preferable to you—who regard me as a burden—I also suspect she is very skilled at making young girls tell her things they don’t want to.”
He faced her squarely. “Well, you’re not coming inside until you furnish me with an address of your next of kin, or the house to which you are travelling.”
She shook her head.
“I was in the army for some years. I know how to make people talk.” He said it as threateningly as he could, but she just laughed.
“So was my father, but gentlemen with at least some heart and feeling, are far easier to manage than the kind of woman who revels in exerting authority over young girls. Believe me, Mr McAlister, I know. My benefactress packed me off to three seminaries for young ladies, and they both sent me back. Now she’s marrying me off because she doesn’t know how else to get rid of me. And I shall do it too, because, even though my evil benefactress is set to make some money into the bargain, I don’t think I have the fortitude to live with her long enough to get my inheritance.”
“Oh, so you’re a lady of great riches, are you?”
“I am. Or rather, I will be. Unfortunately, I don’t come into my inheritance for another six years though of course I’ll be married long before then. And the lucky gentleman to whom I decide to pledge my troth will then have control of it.” She paused for breath. “And what are you, Mr McAlister? A gentleman, so you say. Well, that’s all that matters to me right now because any gentleman who confesses that he might have had a hand in inadvertently spooking the horses, which of course nearly led to a lady almost drowning and being left in the terrible state like I am in, is honour-bound to look after me until they can deliver me properly to where I might be going.”
“Except that you won’t tell me where that is.”
“No, because you’ll send a message ahead, and I am not ready to do anyone’s bidding just yet.” She turned with a scowl at her maid who was making noises about the cold, saying crossly, “You didn’t nearly drown, Mabel. Be patient for just one minute while I make a bargain with Mr McAlister.” Then, turning to Theo, she said, “I do not intend telling you where I live and no, it doesn’t matter because there’s no one to give a fig about me. My evil benefactress knew there was every chance Mabel and I would spend the night on the road, so I doubt she will worry. She thought I might not arrive until tomorrow if there were rain. Actually, I think she’d happily see me…” she sent him an assessing look “captured by a highwayman except that she’d lose the money she’s set to gain by bartering me to the man she wants me to marry.”
“So, no family, Miss Scott?”
She shook her head but didn’t elaborate and, at the sudden tragic cast of her features which he didn’t think was feigned, Theodore felt his first stab of something that wasn’t irritation. “Then that makes two of us.”
It was too cold to spend the evening talking. Theodore tossed aside the reins and jumped out, holding out his arms to lift, first Miss Scott, and then her maid, to the ground.
