The Reluctant Escort. Mary Nichols

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Название The Reluctant Escort
Автор произведения Mary Nichols
Жанр Историческая литература
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Издательство Историческая литература
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threw back his head and laughed. ‘I am sorry to disappoint you, Miss Madcap, but I am simply going to join a friend…’

      ‘In the middle of the night?’

      ‘It will be dawn before I reach the rendezvous.’

      ‘Is it a lady friend? You have a tryst?’

      ‘Certainly not!’

      ‘Why so adamant? Have you an aversion to ladies?’

      ‘Not at all. I have known some very accommodating ones. Now, if you have finished interrogating me, it is time you turned back to Stacey Manor.’

      ‘You are surely not sending me back alone? I might lose my way or be set upon and robbed. Or raped.’

      He felt sure she did not know the real meaning of the word but, looking at her youthful figure and bright eyes, he conceded she might very well be right. But they had met no one on the road and in a quiet country district like this, so far from the evils of civilisation, she was safe enough. Besides, he had his reputation of being a hard man to consider and Frank waiting at the Red Lion in Aylsham for him. He did not have the time to go back. ‘You came alone.’

      ‘Ah, but I knew you were not far away and would have come if I had called for help.’

      ‘You scheming little madam! Well, it will not serve. Back you go.’

      He was angry again. His moods changed with lightning speed; one minute he was scowling, the next laughing, and it was difficult to know which it was likely to be, but that was half the fun of the adventure. She opened her mouth to answer him, but before she could do so he had reached down to take her reins. Turning her horse the way they had come, he slapped its rump. It set off at a canter.

      She could easily have brought it under control, but decided to let it have its head and pretend it was bolting with her. She turned it off the road and they crashed through the trees, startling an owl which swooped down and skimmed so close to her head, she let out a genuine scream of terror. The horse panicked and reared and the next minute she hit the ground with a bump.

      ‘Molly, where are you?’ In a daze, she heard Duncan coming after her. She lay still, her eyes closed. She heard him pull up and dismount, felt his warm breath on her face as he bent over to see if she were breathing and then let out a shuddering sigh.

      ‘Thank God! Molly, open your eyes, there’s a good girl. Let me see you are not injured.’

      She allowed her eyelids to flutter. ‘Where am I?’

      ‘Safe now. Are you hurt?’

      ‘I don’t know. My head aches.’

      ‘Can you sit up?’ He was surprisingly gentle as he helped her to sit. ‘That’s better.’ He felt round the back of her head with gentle fingers. ‘Nothing broken that I can see. Now stay there while I catch your mount.’

      He disappeared through the trees, but he was only gone a minute because Jenny was cropping the undergrowth close by, calm as you please.

      He walked both horses out to the road and tethered them, then came back to pick her up in his arms and carry her through the trees to sit her on the mare’s back. She was still a little dizzy and not at all sure she could ride. Afraid he would set her off alone again, she moaned softly and fell forward on the horse’s neck.

      ‘Oh, damnation!’ she heard him mutter. She was glad Jenny was being good because she had allowed her hands to fall from the reins.

      He lifted her down again and put her on his own horse, then, leading Jenny by her reins, got up behind her in order to support her as they rode. She leaned back on his rough coat, wondering what he would do next.

      ‘Can you hear me?’ he asked. ‘Molly, stay awake for God’s sake.’

      ‘Am awake,’ she murmured. ‘Bad head.’

      ‘Very well, Aylsham is nearer than Stacey Manor and there’ll be a doctor in the town, so we will go there, but as soon as you have sufficiently recovered I shall put you on the stagecoach to take you back.’

      She did not argue. His arms were strong around her and the clop of the horse’s hooves soporific; she was almost asleep.

      ‘How did you come to be such a madcap?’ he murmured, more to himself than to her. ‘It was that silly woman, your mother, I have no doubt. You have to grow up some time, kitten, and I have a notion it will be very soon and very sudden. I wish I could protect you, but I cannot. I need protecting from myself, as Grandmama was quick to point out…’

      ‘Grandmama?’ she murmured.

      ‘Oh, you are not as sleepy as you pretend, are you? Grandmama is Lady Connaught.’

      She lifted her head from his shoulder and turned towards him. In the moonlight, his face seemed sombre beneath a large black hat. ‘You are surely not the Earl of Connaught?’

      He laughed under his breath, a harsh, rather bitter sound which troubled her a little. ‘No, I am not the Earl of Connaught. I belong to a different branch of the family.’

      ‘The poor side. Every great family has a poor side, does it not?’

      ‘And its black sheep.’ This time his laugh was one of genuine amusement.

      ‘Oh, I see. But I should guess you are her ladyship’s favourite, all the same.’

      ‘Perhaps.’

      ‘Oh, how romantic! I expect you have had hundreds of adventures.’

      ‘So, your headache has magically vanished.’

      ‘No, it is still there.’ She hurried to assure him. ‘It will be better tomorrow, perhaps.’

      ‘It is already tomorrow. See, the sun is on the horizon and soon it will be daylight.’

      ‘So it is.’ She could see the road winding downhill to a group of buildings and a church. ‘Is that Aylsham ahead of us?’

      ‘Yes. The Red Lion is a respectable hostelry. We will stay there for a few hours until you are feeling better. Then I will see you safely on the coach to Cromer. If your horse is tied on behind, you will be able to ride from there to Stacey Manor.’

      ‘Where are you going?’

      ‘Wherever the fancy takes me.’

      ‘That’s sounds very indecisive to me and you do not seem to me to be an indecisive man. A secretive one, perhaps. Do you not want me to know where you are going?’

      ‘There is no need for you to know. Your little adventure is at an end.’

      She was silent for a moment. ‘When you have seen your friend are you going on to London?’

      ‘I might. On the other hand I might not. It depends.’

      ‘On what?’

      ‘On what transpires,’ he said enigmatically.

      ‘I should very much like to go there…’

      ‘Perhaps one day you will. I collect my grandmother saying you had been promised a Season.’

      ‘Oh, that will only happen if Mama finds herself a rich husband.’ She sighed. ‘I am afraid she is not very good at judging how wealthy a man is and may very well mistake the matter again. I hold out no great hope.’

      ‘So young and so cynical!’

      ‘Realistic, Captain. So, will you take me to London?’

      He chuckled, unable to take her seriously. ‘Minx! You have been play-acting the whole time. It will not serve, you know. What would my grandmother say if I were to carry you off?’

      ‘We could ride back and tell her. She will be quite content to let me go with you.’

      She squirmed to turn and look at him again when he roared