Forsters 04 - Romancing the Runaway (5 page)

“Goodness,” Gabe said faintly. “I’d be happy to learn which attribute was deemed the most important.”

“Oh, a gentleman could be excused for being short of blunt, provided his title carried suitable gravitas to make up for that unfortunate circumstance. All my friends were agreed on that score. Although, of course, they thought it would be much better if he was well established financially also.”

“Naturally,” Gabe said, highly entertained. “But what of his looks? Surely they played a major part in the decision-making process.”

“Not in the least. Warts, gout, even missing limbs—especially missing limbs if they were romantically sacrificed for king and country—could be overlooked if title and wealth were sufficient.”

“I see.” Gabe didn’t think there was anything remotely romantic about battlefield sacrifices but kept that opinion to himself. “But what of love, Miss Cantrell? Surely cupid’s arrow must be an important factor.”

“No.” She furled her brow. “Now that you mention it, I don’t believe I heard it alluded to at all. All the young ladies would have preferred an amiable, personable partner who didn’t scold or beat them, but they were level-headed enough to realise that wasn’t a realistic expectation.”

“Ah,” Gabe sighed. “Such cynicism in ones so young.”

“It’s all very well for you to mock, Lord Gabriel, but young ladies of Louisa’s breeding are taught from the cradle that it’s their duty to snare suitable husbands, regardless of the dictates of their own hearts.”

“Perhaps, but I fail to see how blame for their failures can be laid at my family’s door.”

“Nothing could be more easily explained.” Her engaging smile heated the frozen air. “Your brother the marquess was near the top of the list.”

“Hal?” Gabe spluttered with laughter. “Pray excuse me, Miss Cantrell, but I wish I’d known. Rob and I would have enjoyed some good sport at his expense if we had.”

“Oh, he would have got his revenge,” she said breezily. “Don’t imagine that you and Lord Robert escaped Louisa’s eagle eye.”

Gabe sobered immediately. “Ah, I see.”

“There was only one person ahead of the marquess in terms of consequence. A duke, I understand, but he’s quite old and curmudgeonly and even Louisa admitted that he was unlikely to suit. Which meant your brother was every girl’s first choice.”

“And then he married Leah. How very disobliging of him.”

“Precisely so, although Louisa wasn’t too heartbroken since she thought he might be a little too old for her, and he was known to dislike the
ton
.”

Gabe made a mental note to have his own disinclination for society more widely circulated.

“And so,” Miss Cantrell said, her eyes sparkling with mischief, “she set her sights on Lord Robert and was very pleased with her strategy to have him notice her too.”

“This I must hear.”

“And so you shall.” Miss Cantrell paused to guide her horse around a fallen branch. “Louisa was nothing if not thorough in her research and knew all about Lord Robert’s interest in chess. And so she endured hours and hours of tuition in the game. Even though she hated every moment of it, her determination meant that she became quite proficient. She was all prepared for her launch into society this season, secure in the knowledge that she’d stolen a march over her rivals and had a failsafe method of attracting Lord Robert. Louisa is very beautiful, by the way.”

Gabe, highly entertained, tried very hard not to laugh for fear that Miss Cantrell wouldn’t tell him anything more about her fellow schoolgirls’ matrimonial machinations. He’d always known that young girls went to considerable lengths to snare husbands, but hadn’t realised quite how seriously they took the matter, nor how young they were when they started their research.

“She cried for two days together when news of an exotic Sicilian contessa reached us and it became apparent that Lord Robert was about to marry her. All that tuition at chess, for nothing.” Miss Cantrell’s lips quirked. “Such a waste. Louisa never was an attentive pupil at Miss Frobisher’s, you see. One of the reasons I was accepted into their set and my humble origins overlooked was that I could help with their homework.”

“Presumably Louisa had someone else on her agenda in the event that her ruse with Rob failed?”

Miss Cantrell said nothing but her lips spread into a wicked smile.

Gabe threw up the hand not holding the reins. “Then it seems I escaped just in time.”

She sent him a not unsympathetic look. “You must have felt like you were under siege the entire time you were in town. I can only hope that Louisa doesn’t get to hear of my being here alone with you, and how it came about.”

“You think I might finish up with half of Miss Frobisher’s students camped out on the estate if she does?” Gabe shuddered. “That gives us another reason to keep your stay here confidential. I
did
save you from freezing to death, Miss Cantrell, ungentlemanly though it might be to remind you of the fact. The very least you can do in return is to protect me from your predatory friends.”

She canted her head and shot him a challenging smile from beneath the brim of her hat. “I didn’t imagine you to be such a coward, Lord Gabriel. What possible harm can a few young ladies do to you?”

“I will gladly slay dragons for you, Miss Cantrell, but facing your school friends is simply asking too much.” He shook his head. “A journal of eligible
partis
indeed.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know what it said about you in that journal?” she asked with a saucy smile.

“Absolutely not! In this case, ignorance is most definitely bliss.”

Gabe turned Murphy along a path that wouldn’t take them past the barn Miss Cantrell had hidden in. He imaged she’d prefer not to see it again for a while—if ever.

“If you knew, you would be better prepared to face them.” Her expression was full of mischief. “After all, presumably you will have to make an appearance in the
ton
again sooner or later and they’ll be lying in wait. I was merely trying to be helpful.”

Her sort of help Gabe could definitely do without. “Thank you for your concern but my brothers know all the tricks when it comes to avoiding entrapment. Indeed, they invented half of them themselves and were happy to pass on their advice.”

“Fine, but don’t say you haven’t been warned.”

“Warning duly noticed.”

Miss Cantrell changed the subject. “How lovely it must be to have such a large family.” She sighed with apparent regret. “It’s only ever been Papa and me, but now it’s just me.”

Gabe felt for her, even though he didn’t think she’d made the statement to invoke his sympathy. She would be a grave disappointment to her friend Miss Marshall for not exploiting her current situation to her advantage. But then, if she did that, he probably wouldn’t feel compelled to keep her here. Miss Cantrell had lost her father when she was at an impressionable age and clearly felt unloved when, vulnerable and in mourning, she removed to the Peacock’s household. He was glad, suddenly, for Miss Frobisher’s regime. At least Miss Cantrell had had some sort of stability there.

“You yearn for a family but are determined not to marry and have one of your own?”

“Quite determined,” she said, jutting her chin. “My desire for siblings was a momentary weakness but I’m quite recovered from it now. Besides, what you’ve never had you don’t miss.”

They reached a sheltered piece of ground free from frost.

“Shall we give them their heads?” Gabe suggested.

“By all means.”

They raced one another at a flat-out gallop for several miles. Gabe assumed he would need to hold Murphy back, just to make the contest fair. In the end it proved to be unnecessary since Miss Cantrell was more than a match for him. Murphy had a longer stride but the cob she rode was strong and fresh so the horses kept pace with one another. She leaned forward, oblivious to the chunks of hard earth thrown up by the thundering hooves, a broad smile on her face as she encouraged her mount forward. Both horses responded with enthusiasm. Her cob put in an energetic buck but Miss Cantrell merely laughed aloud and kept her seat.

When they eventually drew rein at a stand of trees, they were neck and neck.

“An honourable draw,” Gabe said.

“You held back!” she cried indignantly.

“Not at all.”

Miss Cantrell, breathing heavily, laughed at the same time as she patted her horse’s sweaty neck. “Even so, I’ll beat you the next time,” she warned him.

Gabe was unable to reply since his entire attention was taken up with admiring the rise and fall of her breasts as she struggled to regain her breath. Tempting was the word that sprang to mind. Yes, it suited her perfectly but Gabe now wondered if, in his desire to act honourably, he might have taken on more than he could manage in the shape of Miss Cantrell. Far from encouraging her to stay, he needed to get her away from the Hall and out of his life at the earliest opportunity, all without endangering her.

Fortunately he enjoyed a challenge.

“Right, this way,” he said, collecting himself.

“This estate is vast,” she said as they continued with their tour. “A person could get lost in it for days.”

“Which is why you won’t be discovered here. You didn’t pass through the village to get here and so no one’s seen you.”

“How
do
you get to the village from here? It’s five miles by road. Is there a shorter way?”

“Why the interest in that route?” He bestowed a suspicious glance upon his companion. “You’ve mentioned it several times.”

“Oh, no reason.” But she appeared rather flustered. “It’s just idle curiosity, nothing more. I feel more in control if I know the geography of the place where I happen to be.” She offered him a disarming smile. “It’s been that way ever since I lost Papa and have had to fend for myself. Besides, I did warn you that I have an enquiring mind.”

“Yes, you’re certainly inquisitive.” He pointed to a path leading to the west. “That cart track reduces the trip into the village by a good two miles. The servants use it all the time.”

“I see.” She turned her head and regarded him with a serious expression. “No one knows I’m here, Lord Gabriel, and indeed I’ll soon be gone. Even so, we ought to talk about—”

“Later. Let’s enjoy the outdoors for now and let our worries take care of themselves.”

“You have a privileged man’s way of procrastinating. As though you expect your difficulties to take care of themselves because they know better than to disoblige you.”

Gabe wondered if she realised she was being impolite, or if she was deliberately trying to provoke him. Either way, he chose not to take offence since he rather enjoyed her blunt manner. “You look on me as a procrastinator?”

“Certainly I do.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not persuaded that you’ve taken my situation seriously. Nor do you appreciate the implications for yourself if we’re found here together. Or is it that I’m so far below you in the social order than no one will think anything of it if we’re discovered together?”

Gabe dealt her a sharp look. “I hope you don’t actually believe what you just said.”

She didn’t seem deterred. “What else am I to think when you refuse to take my situation seriously?”

“Believe me, Miss Cantrell,” he said, turning Murphy in the direction of home, “I understand the matter far better than you give me credit for.”

“Then why won’t you discuss it with me?”

“And waste this gloriously freezing day?”

She laughed and he sensed the tension draining out of her. “Yes, let’s not waste it.”

Gabe pushed Murphy into a trot. “Come, let’s get back home. Your nose has turned red with cold.”

“Thank you for pointing out my defects,” she said in a miffed tone.

Gabe laughed. “I didn’t say it wasn’t becoming.”

By the time they returned to the yard, they’d been out for over two hours and hadn’t covered half the estate.

“You must be chilled to the bone,” Gabe said, taking Miss Cantrell’s arm to help her back to the house.

“I have difficulty feeling my fingers or feet,” she admitted. “But apart from that, I’m absolutely well.”

Gabe made sympathetic noises. “One of the perils of riding out for so long in these conditions. I should have suggested turning back before we did.”

“And I would have been angry if you’d made allowances, or curtailed your pleasure for my sake. You wanted to check the condition of that dry stone wall on the northern perimeter.”

“But now I suggest you have luncheon in your room and regain your strength. I have business to attend to but perhaps you’ll do me the honour of dining with me again tonight. Then,” he added, fixing her with an amused smile, “I shall be at leisure to dwell on your difficulties.”

Chapter Five

Miranda ascended the stairs as fast as her ankle would permit. She was encouraged to find that she could put all her weight on it and that the resulting discomfort was bearable. That was just as well since she had a long walk ahead of her that afternoon. She had a meeting to attend, and Lord Gabriel’s suggestion that she rest, tempting though the prospect might be, wasn’t a luxury she was at liberty to indulge.

Jessie brought her a luncheon tray and Miranda ate quickly, her head full of the morning’s outing as she did so.

“We found this in the attics, miss.” Jessie held up a garment she was industriously stitching. “It’s an old gown of Lady Felicity’s. She’s Lord Gabriel’s sister. The family call her Flick. Her ladyship is much shorter than you but I thought, with a little ingenuity, I could refashion it to fit you.”

Miranda was touched by Jessie’s thoughtfulness. “You don’t need to go to all that trouble.”

“Bless you, miss, it’s no trouble. We found this lovely Flemish lace that would be wasted otherwise so I’m fashioning a flounce to go round the hem. By the time you wake up this afternoon, it will all be finished and you’ll have another gown to show Lord Gabriel this evening.”

Miranda glanced at the lovely sapphire blue silk and felt a deep welling of affection for kind-hearted Jessie, a woman she barely knew but who appeared intent on mothering her. She must know that Miranda wasn’t a lady in the true sense of the word and yet she treated her as though she were. Few people had made her feel anything other than useful or inconvenient since the demise of her father. “You’re too kind, Jessie.”

“I love sewing, miss, and I know you’ll look a real picture in this gown when it’s finished. A body like yours ought to be shown off.”

“Will Lady Felicity mind?”

“Lord above, no. She has no further use for the gown. That’s why it was in the attic, waiting to be given a new lease of life.”

Jessie went back to her sewing and Miranda fell to thinking again as she finished her meal. Whatever had possessed her to tell Lord Gabriel about Louisa’s list of eligible gentlemen? Her face heated. He must think her foolish and immature, and Miranda prided herself on being neither of those things. The problem was that he’d made her nervous and whenever she got nervous, she had a tendency to chatter. It was a failing that she vowed to overcome.

But not today.

She found it difficult to come to terms with Lord Gabriel’s chivalrous protection of her interests, in much the same way as she was embarrassed by Jessie fussing over her. His lordship probably wanted to be rid of her. He definitely expected her to do as she was told, which presumably included remaining quietly tucked away here at the Hall until he deemed it safe for her to leave. He was right to assume that Mr. Peacock would have people looking for her, and Denby was one of the obvious places to do that looking.

Even so, she had to risk going into Denby this afternoon. There was no help for that. She was very grateful indeed that she only had a six-mile round trip to negotiate rather than ten, thanks to Lord Gabriel obligingly pointing out the shortcut. The reduced distance would still place considerable strain on her ankle but she’d noticed a stand in the hallway that contained walking sticks. She’d borrow one on her way out and rely on its sturdiness to help her along.

It was such a shame that she couldn’t borrow a horse as well. But if she asked, she would be required to explain her need for one. No adequate explanation was available to her since telling the truth was out of the question. She’d given her solemn word about that and so she and Tobias were left with no other option than to walk.

Shrouded in her thick cloak, the hood covering her curls, she set off as soon as Jessie removed her tray and left her to rest. With a wistful glance in the direction of her soft, comfortable bed, Miranda set out. She met no one as she slipped down the stairs and even managed to snag a stout walking stick without being seen. She took a deep breath when she let herself out of the house, pausing to scratch Tobias’s ears and make sure no one was observing her.

“Now we walk,” she told the dog, taking the long route round the stable block to avoid being seen.

As she trudged along at a frustratingly slow pace, she cursed her stupidity for falling out of that wretched oak tree and injuring herself. How envious Louisa would be if she knew of Miranda’s current situation. Miranda managed a wry smile at the way things had turned out, glad it was her and not Louisa who’d finished up here. Unlike Miranda, Louisa wouldn’t hesitate to use the situation to her advantage. Well, that was all very well for Louisa. She was beautiful, charming and witty. Used to the company of the elite, Louisa was Lord Gabriel’s equal in all respects and had been born to expect that someone of his standing would eventually become her husband.

Miranda certainly wasn’t beautiful and had been told repeatedly that she expressed her opinions far too freely. Apparently that was a bad thing. As a female, she wasn’t supposed to have a mind of her own, and being intelligent was worse than being a Whig. She often wondered what the point of a decent education was if she wasn’t supposed to emerge with opinions or intelligence at the end of it.

Not that any of that really mattered in so far as her relationship with Lord Gabriel was concerned. She had no wish to snag a husband, especially not by devious means, when all Lord Gabriel had wanted to do was help her. Forcing him into matrimony would be a sorry way indeed to repay his kindness.

No, his lordship was perfectly safe from her deeds, but what harm could it possibly do if he occupied her thoughts? He’d been at his most relaxed that morning and she couldn’t help but admire all she’d seen. He was handsome, courteous and amusing, going out of his way to keep her entertained. He appeared genuinely concerned for her welfare and had frequently asked if riding out was too taxing for her. Miranda had eyes in her head and couldn’t fail to notice just how snugly his breeches clung to strong thighs, how well his broad shoulders sat inside his greatcoat, and how effortlessly he controlled his fresh stallion when the horse forgot his manners. Less visible but still blindingly apparent was his not entirely civilized male aura, his manner of looking at the world as though he was perpetually amused by what he saw.

Lud, what was wrong with her? It was all Lord Gabriel’s fault that her head was so full of him. She’d never met anyone quite like him before and she was prepared to admit, at least to herself, that she now understood what Louisa and the others had meant about their physical reactions to handsome men. It was a subject they could discuss for hours without repeating themselves.

In Miranda’s case, she only had experience of one very handsome man, but that was more than enough to be going on with. She’d felt…well, fizzing excitement when he looked at her in a particular manner. When the full force of intelligent hazel eyes was directed on her face as though she was the most fascinating creature he’d ever encountered, it was enough to turn even the most level-headed…well, head.

Fizzy. Yes, she’d definitely felt effervescent beneath his focused gaze, and the desire to leave a favourable impression had been compelling. It was very important to Miranda that her saviour should form a favourable opinion of her. Admiration would be asking too much but if he acknowledged her courage and intelligence in some way, it would be enough. As for this fizzing business, the feeling that came over her whenever her mind dwelt on Lord Gabriel…well, it was actually very pleasurable. Even so, she was glad he couldn’t know the effect he had on her. She also deeply regretted telling him about Louisa’s journal. She only did so because she’d been desperate for a topic of conversation that would divert him from her interest in the shortest route to Denby.

Lord Gabriel was top of Louisa’s list of eligible
partis
, but if they ever met, he would now be on his guard, making it that much harder for her friend to work her magic. Not that Louisa was her friend precisely, not in the way Charlotte was. Louisa had only taken up with her because Miranda was useful, and Louisa had a tendency to use people when it suited her purpose. Since Miranda had no expectations of ever seeing her again, her guilt lessened.

Miranda’s mental meandering meant that the walk passed quickly and had already brought her within sight of the village. She could see smoke rising from the chimneys, and the church steeple stood out against a slate-grey sky with low clouds that threatened more snow.

“All right,” she told Tobias. “Now for the difficult part. You must keep behind me and try very hard not to be seen, darling. It’s not as though you’re small enough to exactly blend in, but that’s not your fault, and I know you’ll do your best.”

Tobias’s wagging tail implied that he’d try. As her feet hit the cobbles of the main street, Miranda pulled her hood more closely over her head, making it almost impossible for anyone passing her to see her features. She kept her eyes down, trying to avoid drawing attention to herself, glancing sideways every so often to see if she was being observed. As far as she could ascertain, no one took the slightest bit of notice of her. The streets were busy and everyone seemed to be going briskly about their business, keen to get it done and be out of the bitter wind before the snow came.

“Right, I have to find the Boar’s Head,” she muttered.

That ambition was easily achieved. The local tavern occupied a prominent position in the centre of the main street and appeared to be doing a brisk trade. If anyone was loitering, looking for her, here was the obvious place for them to wait. She scurried past, eyes downcast, looking for a row of cottages in a street that abutted the one she was in, directly opposite the tavern. She found number seventeen without difficulty and stood outside for a moment, regaining her breath. Her ankle ached like the devil but she ignored the pain, lifted the door knocker and then waited.

*

“I never thought the day would come when I’d sit swilling ale and that old skinflint Peacock would foot the bill without complaint.” Bill Fisher, Peacock’s foreman at his warehouses, slammed down his empty tankard and beckoned to a serving wench for a refill. “And that’s a fact.”

His companion Luke Hill slapped the serving girl’s rear as she brought them fresh foaming tankards. “Ain’t that the truth.” He took a long drink, wiped the foam from his mouth with the back of his hand and sighed with pleasure as the warm ale trickled down his throat. “I’d give a lot to know what that lass has that’s got him so steamed up. Not that I blame her for cutting and running from that mausoleum of a house, mind.” He sniffed his disdain. “I’ve seen more life in a funeral parlour.”

Bill chuckled. “And I’d give a lot to have seen the chit climbing down that tree.”

“Not a sight you see every day,” Luke agreed.

“It ain’t so much as she’s pretty, but there’s something about her that’s always appealed to me.”

“She wouldn’t give you the time of day, what with her being all educated and thinking she’s above her company.”

“Care to take a wager on that?”

“Old Peacock wanted her to marry that son of his, by all accounts.” Luke threw back his head and barked a laugh. “Damned fool if she does. Probably why she ran off. He’s as dried-up and penny-pinching as his old man.”

“I heard ’em arguing in the warehouse when she went missing,” Bill said, rubbing his stubbly chin in his calloused palm. “Old Peacock rang a right peel over young William for not persuading her to the altar. Never knew he had enough emotion in him to swear like he did, him being a pillar of the local church and always going on about other people’s sinful ways, and all. Just goes to show, don’t it?”

“I still don’t get it,” Luke replied. “He’s never had any time for the girl. Far as I know, she don’t have anything worth making such a fuss about, other than her young body. And there are plenty more of ’em about if that’s what William has a yen for.”

Bill shrugged. “It ain’t ours to reason why. Personally, I’d rather be sitting here supping ale at Peacock’s expense than working my guts out in a freezing warehouse.”

“The girl won’t show up here. She’ll be up in London by now with one of those swanky friends of hers from her school.”

“That’s where William’s gone to try and track her down.” Bill sniffed. “Wasting his time, if you ask me. He’ll never find her ‘cos he has no idea where to start looking. He was going to talk to the head teacher at that school she went to. He reckons she’ll know the names of her friends.”

“You’d think the Peacocks would know at least that much, wouldn’t you? Just goes to show how much interest they took in the gal.” Luke returned his attention to his ale. “We ought to be getting on. We’re supposed to be moving from village to village, asking questions.”

Reminded of his duties, Bill cast a casual glance through a window opaque with smoke from the fire and the heat from so many bodies packed into the taproom. He didn’t see anyone who remotely resembled Miranda Cantrell.

“We’re entitled to a break,” Bill said. “Besides, it’s a massive waste of time. If she was still about, someone would have seen her by now. She ain’t that remarkable, but that horse of hers would be remembered. So would that scruffy mutt. Nah, she’s well away by now, and I can’t say as I blame her.”

“Yeah, I reckon. Still, we owe it to the boss to be thorough.”

“You’re right there.” Bill’s idea of being thorough was to scan the street again, or as much as he could see of it through the steamed-up window. No point actually walking outside and freezing to death. Peacock had only told them to keep a sharp watch on the village streets. He hadn’t said where they had to do the watching from. “I think we should…hey up!”

Bill did a double take and jumped from his seat.

“What is it?” Luke asked. “What do you see?”

“Over there, that gal in the cape. Can’t see her face but I’ll bet my last shilling that’s her dog.”

“Wait and see where she goes.”

“The hell with that! We don’t wanna lose her. I want that twenty guinea bonus old skinflint’s offering to anyone who finds her.”

The girl looked over her shoulder and then approached a row of cottages opposite the tavern. She hesitated in front of one of them, then walked briskly up to the door and knocked.