Mary Brendan – Regency High Society Vol 1: A Hasty Betrothal / A Scandalous Marriage / The Count's Charade / The Rake and the Rebel (страница 2)

He snatched a rug from a nearby chair and together they made a half-hearted attempt to make their patient decent as she gradually stirred and focused a pair of dazed green eyes upon them.

‘Wh-what are you doing?’ she protested faintly and tried to sit up. ‘Oh, my head! Wh-where am I—what has happened—who are you?’ She fell back on the cushion in pain and confusion, gripping the rug tightly to her chin as she regarded her rescuers with understandable apprehension.

Sandford stared down at the girl in frowning consternation. No rough serving wench, as he immediately realised on hearing her voice, but surely no young lady of any breeding would appear in public, wearing such shocking attire?

‘You must forgive us, ma’am,’ he said curtly. ‘You were hurt at the roadside—we brought you here—thinking you to be a boy!’

The girl flushed slightly, but a wan smile crossed her face. ‘Yes, well—I am in disguise, you see—could you help me up, do you think?’ She swung her breeched legs gingerly to the ground and Tiptree grabbed her arm as she swayed forward.

‘Oh, dear,’ she groaned. ‘I seem not to be quite myself—perhaps I should sit for a moment or two.’

Sandford controlled his impatience with difficulty as the girl stared up at him in silent expectation, waiting, he supposed, for him to make the first move.

‘Allow me to present myself, ma’am,’ he eventually managed. ‘Sandford of Beldale at your service—Tiptree here is my man. You must forgive my haste—but I am on most urgent business and I have no time to waste, so I beg you to acquaint me with your destination and I shall see to it that you return home as quickly as possible.’

‘Oh, no! You don’t understand!’ the girl retorted crossly, as she once again attempted to rise. ‘I have run away—they were trying to force me to marry—Did you say Sandford?’ She looked up at him, amazement in her voice. ‘Not Colonel Sandford? But yes! I can see that you are indeed he!’

She was, at once, on her feet and staring hard at his countenance.

‘I can claim that honour, ma’am,’ Sandford replied stiffly, ‘but you have the advantage—should I know you?’

‘Well, you hardly would—even if you remembered—in this outfit,’ countered the young lady, deftly straightening her clothing. ‘Allow me to introduce myself—Harriet Cordell—Sir Jonathan was my father—you will not have forgotten him, I’m sure.’ She looked at him confidently.

Sandford nodded slowly. ‘No, indeed. Our paths crossed many times in Spain. So you are Major Jon’s daughter?’

He surveyed the grubby apparition before him and Harriet had the grace to blush.

‘But what scrape is this that you are in? Your parents settled in Lincolnshire, as I recollect? How do you come to be in Leicestershire—and in this rig? Is it some sort of wager?’

‘No. It is as I said—I have run away from my home. I took the stableboy’s clothing and left yesterday morning before the house was up. I have walked miles and miles and I slept last night in a hayloft after the owner had put the horses to bed!’

She looked about her in sudden concern. ‘Did you recover my bundle? My purse and gown are in it—I don’t see it here.’

Sandford glanced at Tiptree, who shook his head. ‘We had our hands full with you, miss,’ he said apologetically. ‘I’ll go back down the road and take a look, sir, shall I—but I doubt it’ll still be there. It’s a busy road.’

At the nod from his master he left the room.

Just then the landlady re-entered, bearing a tray of refreshments, which Sandford, stepping forward, took from her hands, at the same time sending a warning frown to Harriet to remain silent.

‘Thank you, ma’am,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Our patient has recovered. This fare will set us up and we will all be on our way without delay. Here’s for your trouble.’

He pressed some coins into her hand, ushered her out of the door and returned to the table. Selecting some of the cold pie and a piece of chicken, he handed the plate to Harriet and instructed her to eat the food.

‘And no missish airs, if you please,’ he commanded sternly. ‘A seasoned campaigner, such as you are, will be well used to eating what’s to hand. You spent your youth in the train, I collect?’ He helped himself to some food and sat down at the table, regarding her with undisguised curiosity as he ate.

‘I admit to having little appetite,’ Harriet acquiesced politely. ‘And I do have the most throbbing headache, but I shall do my best to take some nourishment. We—Mama and I—learned that lesson in the Peninsula. As you say, we often travelled with the baggage-train, along with the other wives and families. Our quarters were generally quite good, however, and we had our abigail, Martha, with us. Papa went out to Gibraltar when I was tiny and, of course, we went with him, for we had always stayed together …’ Her voice trembled slightly and she took a sip from the glass he had poured for her, pulling a face.

‘Ugh! Porter! I could never become accustomed to that!’

She was immediately comforted by the sight of his quick grin and covertly studied her rescuer. Throughout her childhood she had listened in awe to the many tales of his daring exploits, so was intrigued and, she had to admit, not a little

nervous at meeting her one-time hero at such close quarters. She recollected having been presented to him at a ball in Lisbon, but this had been in her youth and she doubted that the great man would recall such an insignificant incident.

Having cast off both his driving-coat and jacket, Sandford was now in his shirtsleeves, riding breeches and top boots, all of which displayed his good shoulders and strong limbs to advantage. Although not precisely handsome, the viscount was blessed with regular features, crisp brown hair and a pair of steady grey eyes with which he now sat and frowningly surveyed her as she nibbled at her pie.

There was a tap at the door and Tiptree entered, empty-handed. Harriet jumped up and started forward.

‘Oh, no! Don’t say you could not find it! Now I am in the suds!’ She spun round to face Sandford. ‘I wonder, sir—could I prevail upon you to advance me some money? I need to get to the staging post, you see. I am going to seek out my grandfather. I am sure he will help me …’ She broke off lamely. ‘What must you think of me? I will tell you the whole, if you can spare me your time?’

Sandford sighed resignedly. ‘My business is most pressing, to be sure, but I cannot just walk out and leave you here. Tiptree, come and eat while I hear Miss Cordell’s tale.’ He rose from his chair and seated himself on the window settle next to the couch Harriet had just chosen.

‘I will be quick, for I can tell that your time is precious,’ she said gratefully. ‘You may have heard that Papa was injured at Nivelle and we returned to England before Napoleon escaped from Elba, so we were not involved in the Belgian campaign—much to Papa’s fury. He had been hit in the chest and never really recovered and he—he died last year, before the victory. Mama was totally to pieces and our neighbour—who farms the land next to ours—was so very helpful to us, arranging the funeral and organising the farmworkers to carry on and—so many things I shan’t tire you with. Anyway, somehow she grew to depend upon him and his advice and, just after Easter—three months ago—she agreed to marry him. Would you believe it, after being married to Papa for more than twenty years! I think Sir Chester is quite the most odious of men and as for his son—words fail me!’

Harriet clenched her fists and her slim frame shuddered. ‘That was it, you see. Sir Chester had married Mama, thinking that she was wealthy—but Papa had left everything to me, in trust until I am twenty-five or marry. Mama has the interest from the trust and a generous competence, of course. Papa was not a rich man, but we were always secure, and he had also inherited the family farm when his cousin died. However, to the point; when he discovered that it will be another five years before I inherit the estate, Sir Chester started pushing his horrid son at me and throwing us together at every opportunity—he was determined to make a match, but I was very unco-operative, I can assure you! Two days ago I overheard them planning to abduct me and force an elopement, so I knew I had to get away before I found myself Mistress Gilbert Middleton!’

She was obliged to stop to compose herself and Sandford took the opportunity to ask, ‘You mentioned a grandparent—he lives in Leicestershire? Perhaps I can take you to him?’ but Harriet shook her head and, after taking a deep breath, hurriedly continued with her explanation.

‘Mama’s father—he is a Scottish landowner, but she eloped with Papa when she was eighteen and she has had no contact with him since. I understand that he lives somewhere to the north of Edinburgh …’

She then looked hopefully at Sandford, who had risen to his feet and was reaching for his jacket. Laying her hand upon his arm, she beseeched him urgently, ‘Please, my lord, will you lend me some money so that I can continue my journey? I was trying to reach Grantham for the staging-post. I believe the coaches leave for Edinburgh at six every morning. We cannot be far away, if you would be so kind as to convey me there?’