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Viola’s heart leaped into her throat. “We’re too late.”
“Where’s Laxton?” West roared. “I’ll murder him.”
Belinda lifted her tearstained face. “H-he’s not here.”
“Which way did he go?”
“West, calm down. Let Belinda explain.”
“Did he harm you?” West demanded.
“Not here,” said Viola, glancing around at the other patrons who were staring with open curiosity.
“A private sitting room,” West called to the innkeeper, as he helped Belinda to her feet. “And quickly.”
“My ankle is twisted,” Belinda said piteously. West lifted her into his arms where she sniffled and hiccupped as they followed the innkeeper to a private room with a view of a small garden and a small fire in the grate to take the chill away.
Viola settled Belinda in a chair by the fire, wrapping her shawl around Belinda’s knees. “Now then, Belinda. Tell us exactly what happened.”
West paced up and down the room. “I shouldgo after him. I don’t want him to have too much of a head start.”
“I j-jumped from the carriage. He left me on the side of the road in a heap. I walked here. Look.” She held up her uninjured ankle. “My gray Italian leather half boots are absolutely ruined.”
“But you’re not,” said Viola, her face wreathed in smiles. “You’re not, my brave girl. Did you really jump from the carriage?”
“I had no other choice. That horrid Laxton said that he loved me but no man who loved me would so mishandle the white Valenciennes lace of my fichu. He tore it, the dreadful beast.”
“He attempted to unclothe you?” West asked in a low growl.
“He attempted to kiss me and I told him only after the wedding and he pawed at me and tore my lace. He said not to fight him, that it was all inevitable and we were meant to be together and other such villainous things. And I knew then and there that he’d lied. He’d never loved me. He meant me harm. He ripped my Valenciennes lace and so I... I smacked him over the head with my reticule in which I keep my tin of face powder and jumped out of the carriage and rolled down a hill. And look. My clothing is all r-ruined.” She burst into tears.
Viola hugged her to her breast. “My darling, a little mud and muck and torn lace is a very small price to pay.”
“And I t-twisted my ankle. And the men in the dining room have been looking at me insinuatingly and I was frightened. But I know it’s all myfault. West, I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me? Will Blanche forgive me?”
West knelt beside her. “Of course. It was a foolish thing to do, but I know you didn’t do it to hurt anyone. And I’m so very glad that you’re unharmed. Are you quite certain that he never importuned you?”
“He never even had a chance to kiss me, the lace murderer,” she huffed.
“I believe Laxton was seeking revenge on me and wanted to hurt me through you. You’re a very brave girl, do you know that?”
“I don’t feel very brave. I feel like the worst kind of fool. What will Blanche say? She loves Laxton and I... I ran away with him. He told me he’d never loved Blanche, that it had been me all along. He’s been writing to me for weeks in secret.”
“Never mind,” Viola said. “We’ll sort it all out later. The most important thing is to get you home and into bed so that a doctor can attend to your ankle.”
“Thank you,” said Belinda, grabbing Viola’s hand and kissing it.
“You can’t go after Laxton, West. You don’t even know where he went.”
“I’ll find him. And he’ll wish he’d never been born.”
“I don’t want you to fight a d-duel,” said Belinda, almost ready to begin crying again.
“There won’t be any duels,” Viola said briskly. “Now then, can you stand if we help you?”
“I think so.”
“Then let’s go home.”
