Rags-to-Riches Bride. Mary Nichols

right, too. I have brought the gig to take you home. Stephen would have come, but he has gone to work, so I have come in his stead.’ He took her elbow to usher her towards the patient pony. ‘I know, you are going to say you can easily walk…’

      ‘No.’ She managed a smile. ‘I am glad you came, I wanted to thank you for what you did for my father last night. And for me.’

      ‘I did nothing.’ His tone was brusque, dismissing her gratitude.

      ‘All the same I am grateful, and I am sure Papa will be too, when he understands what happened.’

      He helped her into the gig, climbed in beside her and set the pony off at a trot. She was silent, too tired to make conversation, until they came out of the end of the street and turned towards the river. ‘Mr Harecroft,’ she said, sitting forward in dismay, ‘this is not the way. You have taken a wrong turn.’

      ‘I do not think so. Great-Grandmama instructed me to take you home and that is what I am doing, taking you to Harecroft House.’

      ‘Your home! Oh, no. I cannot go.’

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘I am unkempt, my father is in hospital and I must be on hand to visit him; besides, you could not have told her ladyship the whole sorry story.’

      He knew what she meant. ‘No, that is between you and me and no one else’s business unless you choose to tell them.’

      ‘Oh.’ She paused to reflect; she could not keep her job and look after her father at the same time, and yet she needed to earn if they were to live. It was a problem that would have to be faced, but at the moment she was too exhausted to think about it. ‘Would that not be dishonest?’

      ‘I do not see why. Your father is ill and he is not going to be in a position to go wandering off on his own for a little while, is he? Why stir up more problems for yourself?’ He turned to look at her. She was very pale; there were dark circles under her troubled blue-grey eyes and her hands were shaking in her lap. He put one hand over hers. ‘Our secret, eh?’ Even as he spoke, he wondered what he would say to the dowager if she asked him what he had discovered? What had Great-Grandmother seen in her that had made her so anxious to probe? The whole business was on the way to distracting him from his main purpose, being elected to Parliament and having his book published. He thought becoming an MP ought to come first, but he had heard nothing from Peel or Chadwick.

      ‘Thank you.’ She looked down at his strong brown hand covering hers and it felt so comforting and so right, she did not withdraw it as she ought to have done, but a minute later he was obliged to put both hands on the reins to steer the pony to a stop in order to pay the toll over Waterloo Bridge and the moment of intimacy was gone. ‘But I still do not think you should take me to Harecroft House. I am an employee, it is not fitting…’

      ‘That makes no difference as far as the old lady is concerned. When she says do something, we all jump to obey.’ His voice softened. ‘Do not be alarmed. She will not eat you. You will be given a room where you can rest and refresh yourself and later someone will take you to visit your papa. It is better than going back to those dismal rooms and the uncouth Mrs Beales, is it not? You could never rest in the daytime there.’

      ‘Yes, but…’

      ‘I suggest you accept, it will be easier in the long run.’

      ‘Thank you.’ She leaned back and shut her eyes and let him carry her forward, though she could not help feeling she was being manipulated, losing control. Accustomed to directing her own life, of looking after her mother before she died and her father since then, she was not sure she liked it. But she was too tired to argue, much too tired…

      Chapter Three

      Harecroft House was an imposing residence, four storeys high with a porticoed porch to its front door reached by a short flight of steps. Richard pulled up outside, jumped down and handed Diana down. By the time they were walking up the steps, the door had been opened by a footman.

      ‘Tell young Johnny to take the tilbury round to the mews, will you, Braithwaite,’ Richard said, ushering Diana into the marble-tiled hall. Then, to Diana, ‘Come, I expect Mama is in the drawing room.’

      He took her arm and guided her up a magnificent cast-iron staircase, turned along a short corridor, and ushered her ahead of him into a large room whose windows looked out on to the square. The dowager and a younger woman were sitting on sofas, one on either side of the hearth. The younger woman’s erect posture was due, Diana surmised, to stiff corseting that diminished her waist and emphasised her bosom, now clad in forest-green taffeta. ‘Here she is,’ Richard said. ‘Mama, may I present Miss Diana Bywater?’

      Diana, still feeling bewildered, bowed her head. ‘Mrs Harecroft.’

      ‘Miss Bywater, you are welcome.’ It was said with rigid correctness and made Diana wonder if she really did welcome her. She turned to the old lady, who was smiling like a child who had got her own way. ‘Lady Harecroft.’

      ‘Sit down by me,’ the dowager said, patting the seat beside her. ‘I was very sorry to hear of your father’s illness. Richard tells me he has had a seizure. How is he?’

      ‘They think he will pull through, but it is too soon to talk of a full recovery.’

      ‘Oh, dear, I am very sorry to hear that, very sorry indeed. I hope he has been made comfortable?’

      ‘Yes, thanks to Mr Richard Harecroft. I do not know what I would have done without him.’

      ‘I did nothing,’ he said. ‘It was fortuitous I was there.’

      ‘Why were you there?’ his mother demanded.

      ‘Father asked me to escort Miss Bywater home last evening. She had been working late and Stephen had already left or he would have taken her.’

      ‘I told them it was not necessary.’ Diana felt she had to explain. Already she had a feeling that Mrs Harecroft disapproved of her and, remembering Richard’s expression when he had come upon her and his father in the office, she certainly did not want her to think there was anything untoward going on. ‘But in the event I was very glad Mr Harecroft was there.’ She paused. ‘I did not expect to be brought here today and would not, for the world, intrude—’

      ‘Stephen wished it,’ Mrs Harecroft said. ‘And it is time we met, I think.’

      ‘Yes, ma’am.’

      ‘Miss Bywater is worn out, Mama,’ Richard said. ‘She has been sitting up with her father all night. Can you not leave the questions until later, when she has rested?’

      ‘I ought to go to work,’ Diana said.

      ‘Certainly not!’ the dowager put in. ‘Time enough for that on Monday. Richard, ring the bell for Mathilde.’ She turned to Diana as Richard obeyed. ‘Mathilde is my maid. She will show you to your room and look after you. Poor thing, you look done in. Have you had any breakfast?’

      ‘No, but I am not at all hungry.’

      ‘I will have something sent up to you,’ Mrs Harecroft said as a maid entered the room and bobbed to Lady Harecroft.

      She was of middle years, very thin and upright. ‘My lady, you rang?’

      ‘Yes. This is Miss Bywater. She has had a very trying night and needs to sleep. I believe a room has been prepared for her.’

      After expressing her gratitude, Diana was conducted up another flight of stairs and along a corridor to a bedroom. ‘Here you are, miss.’ The maid pushed open the door to a large well-furnished room. It had a Turkey carpet on the floor and heavy silk curtains. Diana recognised the material from the stock at the shop. ‘This room is next to her ladyship’s. Where is your baggage?’

      ‘I do not have any. I have not come to stay beyond a few hours. I shall just remove my outer garments and lay on the bed a little while. Wake me at noon,