“I—I was only in Scotland for three months.”
“I know it well. After Papa’s death, and for the month before, of course, I had to be home tending to business. When I was free to begin looking for you, the Bellinghams directed me to Scotland. I went there in April, and very nearly fell into a totally different engagement, quite against my will.”
“The Scottish squab?”
He gave a hopeful smile. “Have you been keeping track of me, too?”
“No, only listening to gossip. After I left Scotland, I went to Devon.”
“As did I, too late again. I missed you by days, weeks, and months in Sussex, London, Devon, Scotland, Yorkshire. I never knew such a girl for traveling. Of course, I, unlike yourself, was not free to roam every day of the year. I had Braemore to see to, as well as Nel. I think you might have given me a clue where you were, Clara. You knew—you
must
have known at the Bellinghams’—how I felt about you.” His voice was low, but his tone was ardent, and the glow in his eyes spoke of total sincerity. “And if not there, surely some of the messages I scattered about the countryside must have gotten back to you. The half of England knows I’ve been looking for you.”
Her reply was breathless. “Short of sending you my itinerary, I don’t see how I could have done so.”
“ ‘The Maid of Lodi’ might have served as an excuse. You could have sent me the words, as you
promised
you would do.”
“What would you have thought of me if I had been so encroaching, writing to an eligible bachelor?”
“I would have thought you were pursuing the friendship a little, and would have been happy. Why do you think I expressed so much interest in the lyrics of a song? But writing to a bachelor would not be the cautious Clara’s way, of course. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” This belittling metaphor slipped out unnoticed, till Clara gave him a look, half-laughing, half-incensed. “Another of my left-handed compliments for you,” he said sheepishly.
“Two in one. Old
and
a dog. You outdo yourself. It remains only for you to call me an ape leader, and I shall want for nothing more.”
“Only if I may be your ape. Really I am not far from it. I feel positively savage to see you smile at Ormond, or call Moore handsome, or look at any other man. To tell the whole shameful truth, I was none too happy with Major Standby the other night. You must proceed with the greatest caution, Clara, or you’ll have a homicidal maniac on your hands. I was always afraid that when eventually I found you, you would be engaged, or married or something. How does it come you are still single?”
Clara’s emotions were in blissful turmoil at this declaration. The only possible cause for grief was that she might be dreaming. To conceal her overwrought state, she simulated annoyance and said, “Lord Allingcote, you have just asked the most despicable question in the world. Don’t
ever
ask any lady over twenty that utterly gauche, hateful question, or you will see savagery that puts your little blusters to shame. I have received three very flattering offers, and I shall say no more.”
“You don’t have to say more. That leaves me free to imagine you have been waiting for me.” He looked hopefully at her. “I said
imagine,
Clara, my dear. You must feel free to correct me if my modesty has placed me under a misapprehension.”
“Of course I feel free,” she replied, feigning obtuseness.
He scowled, but continued with his rant. “And what a long wait it has been! I lost track of you completely when your aunt married and went to Greece. I was beginning to fear you had become a stowaway, that the tumbleweed had taken to water, and I’d never see you again.”
“You would not have followed me across water?” she asked accusingly.
“Even without a boat, if only I had known which body of water to plunge into. I nearly fell off my chair beneath the palm trees when you walked through that door into Auntie’s gold saloon, Clara. I thought I had finally run mad and was seeing a mirage. Perhaps it was my oasis that put the idea in my head, but I had the strangest sensation you were going to dissipate before my very eyes when I got close to you. And after years of concocting romantic outpourings, what blithering inanity did I hear issue from my mouth but, ‘Fancy meeting you here, Miss Christopher!’ as though you were a mere acquaintance. I had a strong urge to throttle myself.”
Her lips moved unsteadily. “You are possessed of these urges to violence too often, Allingcote. Fortunately you never carry them through. Nel, Moore, me, yourself—the world would be sadly decimated if you committed half the acts you threaten.”
“It’s that savage I told you of, lurking beneath my well-cut jacket. A wrong word or look and I revert to the jungle beast.”
She patted his hand in a maternal fashion. “But a harmless little beastie.”
“A tiger on a leash,” he countered. “Don’t push me too far. I very nearly locked horns with Ormond when he was urging you to go out with him and write him letters. I didn’t want you to suspect I was a callow youth and tried to let on I liked him. I did, actually, when he verified your claim to be no more than friends. But you distract me from my story.”
She gave a sigh of well-simulated impatience. “I thought we had had the whole story by now.”
“No, no. We are just coming to the best part—the climax! The hero and heroine meet in the middle of a crowded room after years of involuntary separation. Involuntary on my part at least. We hear bells ringing, heavenly hosts of angels singing, the scent of roses on the air.”
“And my hero says, ‘Fancy meeting you here, old girl. Care for a glass of sherry?’ “
“That is what I said, but I wanted to bolt you to my side with chains of forged steel.”
“How convenient.”
“With Nel on the other side, it would have proved an awkward arrangement. I had to be pushed out the door with her and told—not very politely either, considering the silver tea set
and
the Wedgwood cups—not to show my nose a minute more than was necessary.”
“The Wedgwood cups? Countess Kiefer gave her the cups.”
“So did I. Don’t interrupt. In any odd minute I did fight my way in. Aunt Charity had you hopping. I had hoped you would not take Nel in aversion, that you might accompany us on a few outings. You would have liked the Roman Museum, I think.”
“Think again. I didn’t care for it in the least when Sir James made me go with him—three times.”
Allingcote frowned heavily. “Don’t be difficult, woman. I’m trying to make love to you. You would have liked it with
me
for a guide. We need not have gone inside and looked at the bric-a-brac. Museums are best appreciated from the window of a carriage. But of course Nel managed to get your hackles up, too. When both you and Maggie tore off on me the minute I came into the room that first evening after dinner, I knew my plan was futile. What had she said, by the way?”
“A great deal about the many accomplishments and gowns of Miss Muldoon.”
He shook his head. “Her little scene last night didn’t help, but I don’t think it fair that you took it out on
me.
You were not at all kind this morning, Clara, only because I inadvertently mentioned your gown was two years old. It has held up remarkably well, incidentally,” he said, fingering a fold in her skirt while laughter lurked in the depths of his eyes.
“It has seen a good deal of wear, too.”
“You want to tell Aunt Charity where you buy such durable goods. But it was your face I meant looked the same, and your hair. You wore it like that at the Bellinghams’.”
“Then the style is two years old. How time flies. I shall have it rearranged next quarter allowance.”
“You don’t have to change it to please me.”
“I think Captain Carruthers preferred Nel’s tousled locks. I shall try the Meduse do.”
“You will have your ears boxed into cauliflowers to go with it if that man’s name crosses your lips again this day. This little veneer of civilization is thin and corrodes at a touch.
Jealousy,
Clara, is the corrosive agent, in case you have failed to notice it. Now enough sweet talk. What place is this we’re coming to? Chertsey. No, we haven’t been traveling long enough to overtake them yet.”
“If his team is half as good as I think from your way of describing it, they will be three-quarters of the way to London. I wonder when they left.”
“Nel would have waited till most of us were gone, to lessen the chance of being caught. She couldn’t have left much before eleven. It’s twelve-thirty now—an hour and a half. With that broken-down pair of hacks he drives, they wouldn’t be farther than twelve miles at the outside, and that’s springing them. We’ll catch them up at the next village.”
“If they didn’t head for Gretna Green, that is,” Clara said.
“London’s closer. He’d head for London.”
“They’ve outwitted you on every point so far. Let us hope you’re right this time.”
Ben gave her an accusing look. “I sense a little lack of trust here, Clara. A lady in training to be a wife has to suspend her common sense a little. Just because I’m a fool, there is no need to show your disrespect.”
“How wives can put up with it, I’m sure
I
don’t know,” Clara said, and looked calmly out the window while Allingcote composed more mental violence.
Chapter Fifteen
East Chertsey was only five miles farther along the road. With no snow or other adverse conditions to slow their progress, they were there in not much above thirty minutes. The driver stopped and Ben sent him into the inn. “I don’t expect they will be at the inn, but we’ll stable the team there and tour the shops. Nel is an inveterate shopper.”
“Surely Moore would not let her go shopping in the middle of an elopement,” Clara objected.
“I thought you were coming to know Nel. She bought a bonnet on her last elopement. A very fetching one.”
Clara chose not to hear this. “If it is really a runaway match, it is Herbert who will catch them. How could Moore think to marry her in London? She’s under age, and Anglin wouldn’t give his consent.”
“He might be forced to, if they spend a couple of nights together before we find them,” he answered in a hard voice.
“Is he really as bad as that?”
“Are you becoming disenchanted with Adonis? That is how these fellows work. And Nel is not quite so wicked a girl as you think. She has no idea what that would do to her reputation.”
“Every young lady is warned of the danger of remaining away overnight without benefit of chaperon.”
“He’ll have told her some cock-and-bull story about taking her to a respectable home. They were supposed to be stopping off with assorted relatives conveniently scattered along the route to Gretna Green the last time. She was too naive to suspect anything. I caught them around midnight—not with any relative. Nel’s an idiot. I don’t know how you got so wise, Clara, but I do think Nel’s having no mother has made her not so well-informed as she might otherwise be.”
“There are none so deaf as those who will not hear,” she retorted. They vainly scanned the street up and down for a dark blue carriage and gray team. Finding none, they ducked quickly into the shops. There was no word of the elopers having been in.
Allingcote’s groom came running down the street, with an excited air. “Are they at the inn?” Clara asked.
“No, ma’am, but his carriage is stabled there.”
“They must be out eating then. Get the rig set to leave,” Allingcote ordered.
“Lucky them,” Clara said weakly. She was becoming increasingly aware of a large hole where her lunch should have been. She pointed out an elegant restaurant on a corner. Allingcote’s eyes meanwhile had traveled across the street to a less genteel establishment. A hand-drawn sign in the fly-spotted window said, “Meals and Ale, Cheap.”
“He wouldn’t have taken her there,” she exclaimed.
“Would he not? Moore’s pockets are to let, and as I talked Nel into spending most of her blunt on Prissie’s gift, I hope she cannot finance him.”
“The one generous act I have been giving her credit for is buying that gift.”
“To do her justice, she didn’t put up much of a fight. Of course, she had no idea why I suggested it.”
“She couldn’t have been shopping this morning then, could she?”
“She could talk a shopkeeper into giving her credit, but she doesn’t really care much what she buys. A twopenny ribbon or button satisfies her as well as a gown. This might be unpleasant,” he warned, as they hastened toward the door. “Would you prefer to remain outside?”
“Certainly not! If any of the captain’s teeth are knocked out, I shall pick them up for a keepsake. Perhaps I can be of some help in hitting Nel as well.”
“Keep a sharp eye on her and make sure she doesn’t slip out the back door or she’ll steal a rig and escape us.”
A steamy aroma of cabbage and grease assailed them when Ben opened the door. It was accompanied by a cacophony of rude voices and rude speeches. The place was crowded with lunch takers, and larger inside than it looked from the exterior. It was a long, narrow place. Grimy sawdust formed a carpet on the planked floor. The tables were of plain deal, on which every cup and fork made a clattering noise.
A cursory examination of the front tables revealed workmen in fustian jackets. Ben and Clara walked slowly toward the rear, looking to left and right as they went. Before they were halfway down the room, Nel rose and waved to them, smiling brightly. Her pretty plumed bonnet and pale face stood out like a pearl in a bunch of agates.
“Here we are,” she called. “Are you looking for me, Benjie? I’m so glad you came. The stupidest thing! George has no money to pay for our food, and I haven’t got enough. I bought the sweetest little fan in a shop, which I wouldn’t have done had I known George was short. It was no good anyway. It’s broken already.”
“Come outside,” Ben said, grabbing Nel’s sleeve, but directing his speech to Moore, who was none other than Captain Carruthers, looking as handsome as ever, if somewhat stunned.
He rose with a placating smile. “My lord, an unexpected pleasure,” he began, in a very civil way.
“We’ll continue the pleasure outside, if you please.”