Supervising Sally (7 page)

Phoebe laughed. ‘Your brother takes her out driving or riding sometimes, and she and Annie appear to spend every morning shopping. She has discovered a source of cheap muslin and ribbons, and has had to buy another trunk to accommodate all her recent purchases.'

‘As soon as I am a little better you must set off for Brussels. I expect Zachary is fretting to be there.'

‘He says he still has work to do in London,' Phoebe told her, wondering if it was true, or if the earl was attempting to find some more suitable chaperon in her place. He had said no more to her, and Sally reported that the subject was never raised when she went out with him.

A few days later Lady Drayton was sufficiently improved to sit out of bed for a few hours each morning. Phoebe was helping her to settle, wrapping shawls round her shoulders and a rug over her knees, placing cordial and a book on a table beside her, and a firescreen to keep the heat of the fire from her face, when there was a frantic hammering on the door of her bedroom.

The maid had gone downstairs to fetch a hot tisane, so with a murmured excuse Phoebe went to open the door. Annie stood outside and, seeing how agitated she was, Phoebe stepped out into the corridor and closed the door behind her.

‘Annie, what in the world is it? Is Miss Sally ill?'

Annie shook her head, tried to speak, and then with trembling hands held out a folded sheet of paper.

‘It's for her ladyship,' she whispered, ‘but I don't rightly know what to do with it, when her ladyship's not well. It might be upsetting if it's what I think that little madam's been and done.'

Phoebe took it from her, broke the wafer sealing it, and began to read.

Phoebe looked up at Annie. ‘When did you find this?'

‘Just now, Miss Phoebe, when I took in her chocolate. She went to bed early last night, and told me she was tired and I wasn't to wake her till after ten this morning. Why, the deceitful little baggage! Begging your pardon, miss, I shouldn't be talking about my betters that way, but how she could do this I don't know! She's gone off with that Cowper fellow, hasn't she?'

‘Yes, but we ought not to let the other servants know or there will be gossip all over London. If we can find her in time and bring her back all may be well. Has she taken many clothes? And do you think she had letters from him which might still be in her room?'

‘I haven't looked; I came straight for you. I can't bother her ladyship, her being unwell.'

Phoebe was making rapid plans. ‘Annie, tell everyone she has a fever and only you and I are to be admitted to her room. But Lady Drayton is not to know, it will only fret her. As soon as her maid comes back I will come to you. Go now and see if you can discover what clothes she has taken.'

Ten minutes later, stifling her feelings of revulsion at invading Sally's privacy, she was searching the small writing-desk in her room while Annie went through the clothes.

To her surprise, for she would have expected Sally to destroy any correspondence from George, she found a short letter.

‘Has she taken a riding habit?' Phoebe demanded, and Annie shook her head.

‘No, they're here, even the new one she had made in London.'

‘What about her breeches?'

‘What breeches, Miss Phoebe?'

‘Didn't you know that she sometimes rode out in a man's breeches?'

‘Well, I never! The shameless little hussy!'

‘Never mind that. Can you tell what she has taken?'

‘Just a couple of day dresses and a shawl, and one pair of walking shoes. And a couple of shifts. Has she gone to Gretna Green, miss? Oh, she'll never be accepted by the best people ever again.'

‘She will if I can get her back. Annie, I'm going to take this letter to Lord Wrekin, and no doubt he will set off after them. I shall go with him to give Sally countenance, if it's not too late to save the little fool. But people mustn't know I've gone. Can you tell everyone I have a fever too? Fortunately I don't have a maid of my own, so you can say I've asked you to look after me as well as Sally. I could even come and sleep on the truckle bed in this room to make things easier for you, and no one is to be admitted for fear of spreading the infection.'

Annie was nodding. ‘I'll do it, Miss Phoebe. If anyone can save her, you and his lordship will.'

A
NNIE DISTRACTED THE footman in the hall so that Phoebe could slip out unseen. From the house in Brook Street it was only a few minutes' walk to the earl's house in Grosvenor Square, but it was raining slightly and by the time she reached there she was regretting not having brought an umbrella. As she hurried along she prayed that he would be at home, and not already out on the business Lady Drayton had said he was engaged on. It was not yet eleven, and Phoebe was aware that even outside the Season fashionable gentlemen, dining at their clubs and sitting up half the night playing cards, did not rise early. If he was not there should she follow him, to the City or wherever he had gone, or somehow acquire a horse and follow Sally herself?

She abandoned the latter notion as soon as she had formed it. She had little authority over Sally, and would not, even if she could catch her and the deplorable George, be able to insist on their returning to London. The Earl of Wrekin was her only hope.

To her great relief she saw him emerging from his house as she turned the corner into the square. His tiger was holding the reins of his curricle, and the earl, with a nod of thanks, swung up into the vehicle. Phoebe began to run.

‘My lord, wait!' she called, and he turned his head, frowning, as she came alongside. She clutched the side of the curricle and attempted to regain her breath.

‘What the devil do you mean, making such a spectacle of yourself? How on earth my pea-brained sister ever considered you a proper person for Sally to know, let alone suitable as her chaperon, I will never discover.'

Phoebe had regained her breath. ‘Please stop arguing,' she said, as she picked up her skirts and clambered up beside him. ‘There isn't time, and I can explain as we go. The Great North Road, please, as fast as you can.'

To her frustration, he sat and stared at her. ‘Have you gone mad?'

‘Sally is eloping, with George Cowper,' Phoebe said between gritted teeth. ‘Only you can catch her and save her. Oh, do get on, and I'll explain as we go.'

He seemed at last to sense the urgency in her voice, and gave the horses the office. ‘Well?' he asked grimly, as he turned out of the square.

Giving a sigh of relief Phoebe explained, and at his curt request read out the two letters. ‘They won't have got too far. They planned to ride all night, but it came on to rain, so without the moon they could not have ridden fast. And by this evening Sally will be so tired she will insist on spending the night at an inn. She isn't used to riding astride for so many hours at a time. We can catch them before this evening.'

‘Astride? Are you telling me the unprincipled chit is dressed as a boy?'

‘She must be, as none of her riding habits is missing, and the letter says they will ride.'

He swore under his breath, some uncomplimentary words which appeared to be directed at both his niece and her lover. ‘Very well, I will give chase. But I wish you had given me just a few minutes to prepare.'

‘To pack a few clean shirts and cravats, and take up your valet?' Phoebe asked. ‘What do they matter when Sally's whole future is at stake? We have to catch them before it's too late.'

‘No, Miss Impudence, to collect an extra cloak for Sally to wear, and enough blunt for hiring new horses. I'll have to hope this pair can hold out.'

‘I brought the money we've been given for shopping,' Phoebe told him. ‘As for cloaks, Sally has her riding cloak. We have to go quickly if we are to catch them before it's too late.'

‘
We
are not going to catch them,
I
am,' he responded swiftly. ‘I will borrow your purse, but you will go back to reassure my sister that the pair of you have not been abducted.'

‘You need not be concerned. She won't know. As far as Lady Drayton is aware both Sally and I are confined to our rooms with fevers, and only Sally's maid is allowed to attend us.'

He looked at her in some amusement, the first relaxing of his severity since she had met him. ‘Are you always such a managing female?'

She ignored that. ‘You are not related to Sally. It will be necessary for you to remain the night at an inn. If she has already been accepted as a boy, and the inn is full, she and George could well be expected to share your room, even your bed.'

‘I'll take care of that eventuality.' He drew up at the side of the road. ‘Now, Miss Kingston, I would be grateful for the loan of that purse. You can retain enough to hire a hackney back to Brook Street. I am grateful to you for trying to help Sally.'

Phoebe thrust her hand into her pocket and gripped the purse. ‘I am coming with you, my lord. You can hardly drive Sally home in an open carriage, just the two of you. And you cannot let her ride in a chaise by herself. You need me.'

While the horses were toiling up Highgate Hill, Zachary was still asking himself why he had not insisted on putting Miss Kingston down and sending her back to Brook Street. His people would wonder where he was when he did not return that night. He was not in the habit of disappearing without informing them where he might be found and at what time he was expected back home. They might make things worse by sending out to ask where he was. Then this deplorable episode might become public knowledge and Sally's reputation would be ruined.

He was, unfortunately, compelled to endure her company. He glanced at her and discovered that despite the hood of the curricle being up, the rain was driving in, her pelisse was wet and she was shivering.

‘There is a rug under the seat. For goodness' sake wrap it round you. I don't want a chaperon with a streaming cold on my hands as well as Sally.'

She flashed him a mischievous smile, and he suddenly discovered how pretty she was. Even the strands of wet hair plastered to her forehead did not detract from the beauty of her piquant, heart-shaped face, widely-spaced eyes of a deep blue, and well-shaped, kissable lips.

He brought his thoughts back to more seemly matters. It would not do to be thinking along these lines of a girl his sister was proposing he escort to Brussels. He'd thought her attractive and sensible when they'd first met in Yorkshire, and younger than she said she was. She had, he conceded, behaved sensibly in bringing Sally's letters to him and ensuring that Beatrice was not worried about them, but that did not reconcile him to the notion of such a girl being a suitable chaperon, or companion, as Beatrice had insisted was to be her role, for Sally.

‘You did not appear to be at all surprised at Sally's wearing breeches,' he said.

Phoebe, occupied with wrapping the rug round her, glanced up at him. ‘I met her out riding with George Cowper when I stayed at Benton Manor.'

‘And you did not see fit to tell her mother or my sister about this?'

‘She promised to behave properly if I kept her confidence. I decided it was better for me to make friends than to start off with her resenting me.'

‘Her promises do not appear to be reliable.'

‘No, and I shall not believe her in future.'

He sighed deeply. ‘Miss Kingston, although you have forced me to accept your help and company on this occasion, you need not imagine you have persuaded me to agree to taking you to Brussels. I still believe you are not a suitable chaperon for Sally.'

‘It really isn't your business who is to be Sally's companion, is it?' she asked gently. ‘She is not related to you.'

He glanced down at her, annoyed. ‘So you have the claws of a cat, do you, as well as the obstinacy of a mule?'

She gurgled with laughter. ‘What a picture that conjures up! Do I have the face of a cat or a mule?'

‘You know perfectly well what I mean. But I can be stubborn too, Miss Kingston, and you would do well to remember that.'

‘Oh, well, if you do not escort us, I am sure Lady Drayton can arrange something else. Having come this far she is not going to meekly give up and obey the commands of her younger brother, is she?'

The impertinence. ‘I should not have to remind you that I am the head of her family.'

‘Surely not? She has a husband.' Suddenly Phoebe laughed. ‘If brothers and sisters retained authority over
their siblings even after they were married, I should never escape from my sister Jane!'

‘Are you betrothed, Miss Kingston? If you are, I cannot applaud your fiancé's sense in being so complaisant over this jaunt to Brussels.'

She chuckled. ‘You see? You believe a fiancé should already have more authority over me than my mother, who was quite happy with the notion of this jaunt, as you call it.'

He ground his teeth together, but did not pursue the question. Beatrice would tell him. If she was betrothed, he pitied the poor man. Perhaps he would not ask. It did not concern him, and he had no interest in knowing.

They had to change horses twice, and the second time they found traces of Sally and Cowper, who had hired fresh riding horses only an hour beforehand.

‘They must stop soon,' Phoebe said. She was becoming worried. It was almost dark, still raining, and they had come much further than she had expected Sally to ride. ‘Why would they need fresh horses now if they meant to spend the night nearby?'

‘They would not wish to stay at a busy posting inn, where there was a chance of meeting someone they knew. Perhaps they want fresh horses so that they can set off early in the morning. We will ask at every inn we pass from now on.'

‘Won't that delay us?'

‘Better than risking not finding them.'

To Phoebe's relief making these enquiries took little time. The earl had asked for descriptions of the hired riding horses, and one was a grey, the other spotted. At every inn where they halted his tiger leapt nimbly from his perch and vanished into the stables. A quick look, a word with the
ostler, and he would come back shaking his head. Then he came running out from the yard of a large posting inn.

‘They was seen passin' no more'n ten minutes ago, guv,' he reported.

‘Then they'll most likely be at the next inn.'

The next one they came to was a poor place, with an ancient painted sign swinging crookedly from a pole protruding from the wall over the entrance. Here the tiger was back within seconds, nodding vigorously. He took hold of the bridles of the earl's horses and asked if he should stable them.

‘Yes, for the moment. If they have room we must stay the night.'

He helped Phoebe down. She was stiff from the long drive, and despite the rug, freezing cold from the rain which had not ceased all day.

‘Thank you,' she said, almost falling against him as her cold feet gave way when she stepped from the curricle.

‘Are you all right?'

He sounded concerned, but no doubt he did not wish to have to deal with an ailing female who had forced her company on him.

‘I will be in a moment, thank you. My feet are so cold there is little feeling in them.'