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She had already checked Amelia’s bedchamber where she’d come upon a very grumpy Miss Lemmings whining that she’d better not light the candle and disturb her as her megrim was no better.
The woman had mistaken her for Amelia, and it would be best, Fanny decided, not to disabuse her of this.
Fenton, meanwhile, was searching for Mr McAlister, who had also disappeared. Fanny suspected he’d have as much luck finding him in his bedchamber as Fanny had had finding Amelia in hers.
Now there was nothing left but to rush outdoors and hope she reached the coach-and-four be
fore the eloping couple, though she’d given strict instructions for one of the stable lads to stand guard duty by the park gates and prevent any coach-and-four from leaving or departing. However, a persuasive young lady, she realised, might succeed in overriding her ladyship’s demands.
The pathway that cut across the gardens was newly swept, but a dusting of snow made it easy for Fanny to distinguish the imprint of small footsteps as she reached the perimeter that led towards the woods.
Clutching her shawl about her with one hand, she picked up her skirts with the other and hurried as fast as she could towards the park gates. The moon had made progress easy where the trees were sparse. Indeed, the sky had been well lit as she’d exited by the kitchen door.
But it was dark now in the midst of the woods, and having no lantern, Fanny thought she was at a disadvantage before she rounded a twist in the path and saw a lantern bobbing along the path just up ahead. A little beyond that were the lanterns belonging to the coach; the restless horses and jingling of harness making it clear she was nearly upon her quarry.
That’s if she apprehended the person bearing the single lantern in time. In only seconds they could be leaping into the equipage and urging on the horses.
Fanny put on a spurt of speed, which was a great risk in the darkness given her unsuitable clothing. Clearly, whoever was carrying the lantern had no idea they were being pursued, for when Fanny thrust out a hand and seized an arm, she heard a cry and Miss Amelia Harcourt swung round with a terrified look upon her face.
The young woman began to struggle but, when she recognised Fanny, she obviously considered a different approach for her expression hardened as she said crisply, “You have no authority over me, Lady Fenton.”
“But your uncle does, and he has entrusted your care to Lord Quamby for these few days. I am here on his authority.”
“So he can send me into the clutches of the man who defiled my sister and now wants to marry me solely for my fortune?” Amelia’s voice was harsh and her anger so palpable that Fanny took a step back, snapping a small tree branch and causing the horses to stir.
Time was short, but she hadn’t considered a response like this. She hesitated, saying cautiously, “Take care, Amelia; this is not the way to do it. No one can force a bride to wed against her wishes. It’s enshrined in the law.”
The young woman gave a harsh laugh. “Do you really believe that, Lady Fenton? Do you suppose Miss Scott wishes to marry Mr Dalgleish? I think you know she does not. Yet you saw her meekly acquiesce just a few minutes ago to his marriage proposal.” She shook her head, clearly exasperated. “Lady Fenton, before a girl is twenty-five, she is at the mercy of those who use the misnomer ‘their protector’. More often than not, their protector is protecting the young woman’s fortune for their own interests. If you had seen how our uncle protected Catherine and me, you’d understand why I am running away.”
“Running away?” Fanny tried again. “Don’t you mean eloping? Why, you’re eloping with Mr McAlister who is after your fortune just as much as Lord Leighton is.” Collecting herself, Fanny managed to replace the urgency in her tone with something more soothing as she gently gripped Amelia’s upper arms. “Granted, Mr McAlister is very charming, but he is not in love with you, Amelia. I can’t bear to think of you throwing your life away to be with a penniless fortune hunter.”
Amelia looked at her strangely. “Is that what you really think? Do you imagine I am so foolish as to run away on account of love?”
Fanny blinked. “That’s why couples elope.”
“I’m escaping.” Amelia drew in a sharp breath. “I’m escaping because I begged Theo to run away with me. To save me. At first, I thought it would be in his interests as much as mine. After all, he sacrificed his good name and all but lost his fortune on account of what his sister, Jane—my friend!—and I begged him to do when he went in pursuit of Catherine last year.” She was growing angry now, her breath clouding in the air illuminated by the lantern. “No one would believe what really happened because Catherine and Theo were young, and because my uncle is rich and powerful with friends in all the right places—including Lord Quamby.” She gave a bitter laugh. “No doubt Lord Quamby thinks my uncle and,” she swallowed, “my husband-to-be the most genial of gentlemen. It’s not the case.”
Fanny dropped her hands and regarded the angry young woman in front of her. She didn’t know what to say.
Soft footfalls in the snow made her turn, huffing out a surprised breath when she saw Mabel struggling with a small carpetbag.
“I tried ter find the right things, Miss 'Arcourt,” said Mabel, before glancing up, wide-eyed, to behold Fanny. She stopped and dropped the heavy bag at her feet, looking first at Amelia and then at Fanny as if she didn’t know who to trust. Raising her lantern, she asked warily, “Are yer 'elping wiv the escape, m’lady? ‘Cos if yer are, I can’t find me mistress anywhere an’ there ain’t much time.” She sent an urgent look towards Amelia. “I 'eard Lord Leighton is not far away. The weather’s bin better than expected. I 'eard it in the servants’ hall that 'e’s on 'is way.”
Amelia nodded. “Then we must hurry! Where is Mr McAlister?”
“‘E’s on ‘is way. I saw 'e was 'eld up by someone, but when I turned back I saw ’im comin’.”
Fanny threw up her hands. “What is going on? Isn’t your mistress Miss Scott? Lizzy?” she asked Mabel, before turning back to Amelia. “I thought Mr McAlister was eloping with you.”
“He is.” Amelia glanced over her shoulder at the carriage, and then back towards the house. Lights shone from every window, lending it a magical air. “I must get these into the coach and I’ll explain,” she said, bending down to pick up the small trunk she’d dropped. “Yes, Theo is eloping with me, but he’s in love with Miss Scott.”
Twigs crackled as they made their way towards the carriage and the voice of the stable lad carried across to them, young and concerned.
“Don’t worry, Tom! It’s Lady Fenton. I have the matter in hand,” Fanny reassured him before muttering to the young woman at her side, “I hardly think Mr McAlister will succeed in eloping with both of you.”
“He’s rescuing both of us, Lady Fenton. Or, he will agree to do so, gladly, when he arrives and I tell him of the alteration to our plans I believe to be in all our best interests.”
One of the postilions leapt forward to open the door and help Amelia deposit her trunk on the floor of the carriage while Fanny protested, “This is madness, Miss Harcourt! Are you now telling me Mr McAlister doesn’t know of this?”
