The Reluctant Escort. Mary Nichols
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held her breath; she wanted to have the gown so very much and if the Captain haggled the woman might not let him have it.
‘I am sure we can come to an arrangement,’ she said with a simpering smile. ‘For such a good customer.’
‘Wrap everything up, put it into a trunk and send it to The Bell Hotel,’ he instructed, pulling a purse out of his frockcoat. ‘And I want a discount for cash.’
‘Certainly, sir.’ The sight of Duncan’s hoard of hard-won coins was too much to resist.
Molly could hardly contain her excitement. Somehow or other, she was going to make an opportunity to wear that gown when they arrived in London. Already, she could imagine the occasion—the ballroom, the lights and music and the elegant young men clamouring to dance with her. Her mama would be very proud of her and not ashamed of her as she always seemed to be.
She chose to ignore the fact that they still had a long way to go before reaching the capital and she was almost sure the Captain was a wanted man. A more crucial problem was that she did not know how to dance. ‘Captain,’ she said, as they left the shop and turned back towards their lodgings, ‘can you dance?’
‘Tolerably well,’ he said. ‘But if you think I am going to take you to a ball…’
‘No, not that; I was hoping you might teach me the steps. Mama always said there was plenty of time for that and so I never learned. And I should like to waltz.’
‘I am not sure young unmarried ladies are allowed to waltz.’
‘Why not?’
‘I believe it is considered improper.’
‘Why?’
‘Because of the way the man holds his partner. It is a little…’ He paused and smiled. ‘A little too intimate for unmarried ladies.’
‘Oh. There is a very great deal I do not know, isn’t there?’
‘Yes, I am afraid there is.’
‘Then you must teach me.’
‘Oh, no,’ he said, laughing. ‘I have undertaken to take you to your mother, nothing more. It is her place to instruct you.’
‘Yes, but she is always so busy and it would be so much better if I could learn it all before we arrive in London. Then if an important invitation should come my way I would be ready.’ ‘No.’ ‘Why not?’ ‘I have more pressing things to do.’
‘Like holding up coaches and gaming. I wish you would not do such dangerous things. I cannot bear the thought of you being shut up in that castle.’
He turned to look at her, trotting along beside him, trusting him completely, and a twinge of conscience smote him. What he was doing was highly improper and what was worse he was allowing himself to use her to allay the suspicions of the custodians of law and order. The fact that he had spent almost his last sovereign paying for her clothing in no way relieved his feelings of guilt.
‘I have no intention of allowing myself to be shut up inside it,’ he said brusquely.
‘Why are you so blue-devilled? Is it because you have laid out more money on me than you intended? Mama will reimburse you, I am sure.’
‘I have not laid out more than I intended,’ he said, knowing perfectly well he would never accept repayment from Harriet, even if it were offered, which he doubted. ‘What use are sovereigns except for spending?’
‘Especially when they are not your own,’ she retorted.
‘I did not notice you refusing to take advantage of them,’ he snapped.
‘You said your pockets were at my disposal. I think it is very unkind of you to fly into the boughs just because I said I should not like you to be shut up in the castle.’
‘Then there is no more to be said on the subject.’
‘What are we going to do now?’
‘Go back to The Bell and eat a good dinner.’
‘Do you think Mr Upjohn will have arrived?’
‘I certainly hope so.’
He shut his mouth so firmly after speaking, she knew it would be unwise to pester him. She walked on beside him, hobbling a little because the tight shoes were pinching her feet, and she wished she had asked if she might wear a pair of the new ones he had bought for her. But it was not the tight shoes which had spoiled the pleasure of the outing but his tetchiness. His mood was not improved when they returned to the hotel and found no sign of Frank and Martha.
‘Perhaps Mrs Upjohn was not agreeable,’ she suggested.
‘Like all good wives, she will do as her husband bids her.’
‘I should not like her to come against her wishes, Captain, and I should hope Mr Upjohn would not insist.’
‘Then you would have to go back to Stacey Manor. I am determined we shall not continue alone.’
‘I know what it is,’ she said, speaking in a whisper, so that others in the crowded room would not hear her. ‘You are afraid you will be forced into making an honest woman of me. That is not at all flattering.’
‘And you are not at all consistent,’ he said, also keeping his voice low. ‘Yesterday you told me I am too old and you would not consider such a match. Now you seem to be saying the opposite…’
‘No, I am not. I simply said you were afraid you might have to. Let me set your mind at rest, Captain. I have no wish to marry you, but, having come this far, it would be foolish to turn back, especially as we are like to run into more trouble going back than going forward.’
‘How so?’ he queried, wondering what she understood by the term marriage. She could have no conception of physical desire, the love and passion that, in his view, should exist between husband and wife. The novels she read and her mama’s conversation had filled her head with nonsense. The man who married her would have a pleasurable time educating her.
‘Why, Mr Upjohn may very well have been taken up; had you thought of that?’
‘Yes, I had,’ he said irritably. He was beginning to wish he had not drawn Frank into this escapade, though it had seemed like a good idea at the time.
They had shared so much during the Peninsular campaign, both the comradeship and the danger, but Frank had had enough of war by the time Napoleon surrendered in 1814, and decided to return home to his wife. He had not taken part in the Battle of Waterloo. Duncan had come back to England in late 1815, after recovering in a Brussels hospital from a wound in his side received at Waterloo, but he could not bear the thought of going home and so he had reported to the War Office, hoping to be given active service. Instead he had been sent to track down a traitor. His enquiries had taken him to Norfolk and it was in Norwich he had met Frank again.
He smiled, remembering the night of revelry they had enjoyed as they’d reminisced and talked about old battles and the people they had known. But it had been obvious Frank was in a bad way. He was thin as a rake and his clothes were in tatters. He had admitted he could not find work and had turned to crime. Duncan had been appalled and infuriated. There was something wrong when a good and valiant man like Frank should be so little thought of by the country for which he had given years of his life, while men like Sir John Partridge prospered. He had asked him to join him.
‘There won’t be regular pay,’ he had warned. ‘But there will be something at the end of it, if we are successful.’
And so they had joined forces. Becoming a highwayman and living the life of a ne’er-do-well had been one way of dealing with a personal situation he found difficult to come to terms with and he justified it with the argument that he was obeying orders. Taking risks was a way of finding release. Until he met Molly.
She had made him see life with a different perspective, had forced him to