The Viscount's Unconventional Bride. Mary Nichols
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a hat, was like dark, burnished copper; brown, yes, but it only just escaped being red. He assumed they were two not-quite-adult youngsters running away to Scotland to be married against the will of their parents. He smiled at them. It was none of his business.
‘I suggest you return to your coach and continue your journey,’ he said. ‘I will follow in my carriage and make sure you are not waylaid again.’
‘You would travel with those two?’ the young man asked in surprise, indicating the two prisoners.
‘No, I shall ride up beside my driver and take them to the magistrate in Baldock. Have no fear, they will not trouble you again.’ He watched as the four passengers climbed in. The coachman inspected the vehicle for damage; having satisfied himself there was none, he climbed up beside the guard and they set off.
Jonathan returned to his own carriage and followed, cursing his luck because he had to drive slowly behind the coach when he would rather be further on his way. He could only hope that Miss Vail did not deviate from the usual route to the north and throw him off the scent. It was unlikely; the Great North Road was the only viable road and even that had not been turnpiked its whole length.
‘He were impressive, don’t you think?’ Betty murmured to Louise, watching the cleric trying to comfort his sobbing wife.
‘Who?’
‘Why, our rescuer, o’ course. The way he made those two ruffians stand still and allow themselves to be trussed up was summat miraculous.’
‘He had a pair of pistols.’
‘So he did, and he knew how to use them.’
‘You think I should have pulled mine from my pocket and fired it?’
‘No, course not. You didn’ hev the time.’
‘It is not loaded either.’
Betty had a fit of the giggles, which Louise put down to nerves. ‘Do leave off, my dear,’ she said, managing a gruff voice for the benefit of the other passengers. ‘I am sure the Reverend and his wife do not find the situation amusing.’
Betty became serious for a moment, then smiled again. ‘Oh, but he was handsome, don’ you think?’
‘I did not notice,’ Louise lied. You would have to be made of stone not to notice a man like that. Their eyes had met and held for a long minute as if each were trying to memorise the features of the other. He had a clean open face and blue eyes, which reminded her a little of Luke, whom she had left behind. His hair, the colour of ripe corn, had been cut short and curled around his face, leaving the back long enough to be secured in a short plait and tied with a narrow ribbon. His clothes were nothing to speak of, but he wore them with distinction. The clerical gentleman was probably correct and he had been a soldier. But she agreed with Betty—he was extraordinarily handsome. She had to remind herself she was supposed to be a man and should not be thinking such thoughts.
She and Betty had rear-facing seats and if she leaned a little towards the door, she could see the other coach, still following them. It was a rather grand equipage and not at all in keeping with the man, which made her curious, curious enough to make her forget, or at least push from her mind, the reason for her journey. She began to wonder if he was all he seemed. Had he stolen the carriage? Had he had designs on their coach himself and been foiled by the highwaymen ahead of him? But if that were the case, he would hardly have arrested them and promised to take them to the magistrate. Of course he could let them go as soon as they were out of sight, but the coach stayed close behind, the young driver matching the pace of his horses to theirs. It did not stop; no one left it.
They were soon in Baldock and passing under the arch into the yard of the Bull. Louise felt some trepidation on entering such an establishment, but stiffened her spine and in her best masculine voice requested a room for himself and his wife, giving their names as Mr and Mrs Smith. If the innkeeper thought that was an alias, he gave no indication of it and conducted them to a tiny room tucked away at the back of the building. If you want a room to y’selves, this is all I’ve got,’ he said. ‘It’s this or share.’
It was hardly more than a large cupboard with a foot-square window, but sharing was the last thing Louise wanted to do. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘It will do. And we should like a meal.’
‘Dining room’s downstairs,’ he said, lighting another candle from the one he held and putting it down on a chest, which, with a bed and a single stool, was the only furniture in the room. There was a jug of water and a bowl on the chest and a rough towel hanging on a hook.
As soon as he had gone, Louise sank on to the bed and looked about her, glad the candle was so feeble; she did not think she would like to see her surroundings any clearer. ‘Well, here we are,’ she said with an attempt at cheerfulness. ‘Our first night.’
Betty stood looking down at her. ‘How many other nights like this do you reckon we shall hev?’
‘Four or five. I suppose it depends on the state of roads and not having any more hold ups like we had today.’
‘I pray we do not, though if we was to be rescued every time by a couple of handsome strangers then I shouldn’ mind.’
‘Oh, Betty, how can you say that? And remember you are supposed to be my wife. If you start making eyes at strange men, I shall have to become very jealous.’
‘Oh, wouldn’ that be fun!’
‘I do not want to draw attention to ourselves, Betty,’ she said severely. ‘I am not sure my disguise will bear close scrutiny.’
‘Nor I don’ neither, ‘specially if you was to tek your coat off. That binding you put round y’self ain’t tight enough.’
Louise had stripped off her coat in order to wash and could see what Betty meant. As soon as she had completed her ablutions, she tightened the binding that was supposed to flatten her breasts and was not at all comfortable and put the coat on again. ‘Let us go down and find the dining room,’ she said. ‘I am hungry.’
‘T’ain’t to be wondered at, we had no supper last night, nor breakfast this mornin’, and the bread and ham we had at that inn in Welwyn were not enough to feed a sparer,’ Betty complained.
‘Come along then. And please remember I am Lou, not Miss Louise, not Miss Anything.’
‘Yes, m…Lou.’
The dining room was crowded, but the first person Jonathan saw when he entered was Mr Smith sitting on the end of the bench at the refectory table, which all but filled the room. He had taken off his hat and his thick hair seemed to spring out round his face. His nondescript wife sat beside him. Both were tucking into their pork chops as if they had not eaten for a week. He smiled, walked down the length of the table and took the vacant seat at the head of the table next to the young man.
‘Good evening,’ he said, as a waiter put a plate of food in front of him. ‘I trust the rest of your journey was uneventful?’
Louise lifted startled eyes to his. She had been talking about him only a few minutes before and here he was in the flesh. He was searching her face as if puzzled by it and she felt the colour rise in her cheeks. How stupid for a man to blush! ‘Yes, uneventful,’ she murmured, remembering to lower the timbre of her voice, then turned to look down at her food and concentrate on eating.
‘We didn’t think we should see you again,’ Betty told him, picking up a chicken leg in her fingers and gnawing at it. ‘What happened to those two highpads?’
‘They are safely locked up,’ he said, and though he was addressing Betty it was at Louise he was looking.
She knew that if she continued to behave like a nervous schoolgirl he would soon penetrate her disguise and she must do something to assert herself as masculine. She started by taking a long pull at the quart of ale which stood at her elbow and was glad her brothers had dared her to try theirs so she was not as shocked as she might have been by its bitter taste.
‘Glad