The Reluctant Escort. Mary Nichols

you gave me an alibi. Surely you do not condone highway robbery?’

      ‘I know nothing of it. If you were to tell me…’

      ‘There is nothing to tell. And I wish you would not refine upon it. What I do is none of your business.’

      ‘I think it is,’ she said promptly. ‘If you had not panicked my horse, I would not have been thrown and you would not have had to bring me here. That was your fault. And now, because there is no coach going to Cromer until tomorrow, we must stay here like sitting ducks. Besides, you have already said your man—and I doubt not he is the robber with the scar—is packing to leave and I have confirmed you have been out to arrange transport, so leave we must.’

      ‘Of course we must; you made sure of that,’ he said. ‘We shall have to find another way of returning you to Stacey Manor.’ He stood up unhurriedly and beckoned the landlord for the reckoning. ‘Wait for me in the yard. I will be out directly.’

      She went outside and, while waiting for him, wandered round to the stables. There was no sign of his horse, nor Jenny either; they had been spirited away. By the man with the scar? She turned as Duncan joined her. ‘Where are the horses?’

      ‘I did not like the stabling here; I have had them moved elsewhere where the fodder is better and the accommodation more to their liking.’

      There was definitely something have-cavey going on and she was more intrigued than ever. ‘Then how do we go on?’

      ‘I have hired a curricle.’ He stood looking down at her; she was completely unafraid, but that was because she had never in her life come across anything to be afraid of. He hoped she never would, but she was more astute than he had given her credit for and now he must protect her. He had commanded men in battle, been responsible for their lives, but never before had he had such an obligation as this and it was making him uncomfortable.

      His experience with women was with women of the world, who asked nothing for their favours but money or costly presents. There were female relatives, of course, and Beth, whom he had expected to marry. But Beth would never put herself into the position that Molly had done; Beth was too aware of what Society expected from her and what it was and was not permissible for a lady to do. Chasing after a man in the middle of the night would not have occurred to her.

      ‘Where are we going?’ she asked, as he escorted her back to the front of the inn, where a spanking curricle and a small brown horse were ready and waiting for them.

      ‘Norwich.’

      ‘South! Why, that is halfway to London!’

      ‘Not quite,’ he said laconically, helping her onto the vehicle and climbing up beside her. ‘But you have made it necessary for us to leave together and going north is not sensible, so Norwich it will have to be. Besides, the place is big enough for shopping and you need a change of clothes.’ He turned to look at her as he spoke.

      Her riding habit was of some dull silk material and the matching skirt was quite plain, not distinctive, except that it was unusual for a young lady to wear such a garment for riding in a carriage and the skirt was too long and cumbersome for her to walk comfortably in town. It would be noted and if, in her innocence, she let slip whatever it was she thought she knew, suspicions would be aroused. Once she was suitably attired, he could put her on the coach to Cromer, under the chaperonage of another lady passenger.

      ‘We are going shopping! Oh, Captain, how very thoughtful you are! But I have no money.’

      ‘So you have said before. My pocket is at your disposal.’ He flicked the reins and they turned out of the yard at a smart trot.

      ‘And is it a very deep pocket?’

      ‘Not at all. We must be frugal.’

      ‘But I heard Sir John had a great deal of gold…’

      ‘You think I robbed that coach for gain?’ The annoyance was plain on his face as he turned to answer her. ‘Rakeshame I may be, but I do not stoop so low as to profit from another’s loss, unless it be at the card table.’

      He had not exactly denied his involvement, she noted, only that he had not gained by it; she was more curious than ever and determined not to be sent back to Stacey Manor until she discovered the truth. ‘There are gentlemen highwaymen. I have heard of many instances where…’

      ‘And I collect you are a great reader. Romantic fiction, I’ll wager. The real world is not like that.’

      ‘No, perhaps it is not. But fiction hurts no one, does it? And if it provides a little light relief and entertainment, where’s the harm? I have my feet firmly on the ground.’

      He laughed suddenly. ‘And your head in the clouds.’

      She was silent for a moment, but only a moment. ‘What shall I be allowed to buy?’

      ‘Whatever you need for a coach ride and an overnight stay. By the time we arrive, it will be too late to go on.’ He knew perfectly well he was endangering her reputation, had in fact already compromised it, but it was her own fault; he had not asked her to provide him with an alibi. That was not to say he need not put his mind to finding ways and means of preserving her good name and he thought he might have the answer.

      ‘Mama said she would buy me a wardrobe when I went to London,’ she said rather wistfully. ‘You know you need a great many clothes for a Season. You should have seen what Mama bought. Trunks full. She showed them to me. Gowns for mornings, afternoons and evenings, for riding in carriages and walking and habits for riding, and hats and bonnets and ballgowns. She said it was absolutely essential to be well kitted out.’

      ‘Yes, ladies change their clothes a great many times a day, I believe,’ he said, watching her upturned face and sparkling eyes.

      ‘Mama’s ballgowns are all very beautiful. Of course, she is taller than I am, so they would not fit me. And she said they were unsuitable. I am not…’ She paused and treated him to her infectious laugh, which made the corners of his mouth twitch. ‘I am not as well rounded as Mama.’

      ‘No, indeed not,’ he said, thinking of the voluptuous Harriet. ‘But I think your figure is very pleasing as it is.’

      ‘Do you? Oh, that is very civil of you. I think you are the most handsome of men, even if you are lacking in chivalry.’

      ‘Am I so?’

      ‘I have been reading Don Quixote. You know he was always rescuing damsels in distress. You are not at all like him. He would never have slapped Jenny’s rump while I was unprepared for it.’

      ‘He was also more than a little touched in the attic, I collect. He thought windmills were giants.’

      ‘But it didn’t stop him wanting to fight them, big as they were. He was very brave.’

      ‘There are times, my dear, when bravery is foolhardy in the extreme. Have you never heard the saying “discretion is the better part of valour”?’

      ‘Yes, but that is a very dull maxim.’

      ‘Then I must be the dullest of men.’

      ‘Oh, I do not believe that. Why, you said yourself you are a rakeshame and you cannot be that if you are too cautious. And I am sure you are not cautious at all. I believe you thrive on risk. Look how you came back to the Red Lion and sat and ate your dinner as calm as you please. And the way you answered the constable.’

      He smiled. ‘You didn’t do so badly yourself, though I cannot think why you did it.’

      ‘I was afraid they would go up to your room and find the man with the scar. Not to mention the gold.’

      ‘Gold?’ he repeated furiously. ‘I have already told you I have no gold.’

      ‘So you have,’ she mused aloud. ‘I wonder what you can have done with it?’

      ‘Molly, you will make me very angry