As a marquess, Charles was not accustomed to taking orders from anyone. And in peacetime, he had reflected more than once, he might seriously question orders from the Regent himself. Even so, only a few moments ago, he might have obeyed the young lady, and gladly. But by now he had taken the time to examine her more closely, and his temper had undergone a change.
She was clearly the daughter of a gentleman. Her gown, though rumpled by travel and plainly inadequate for the Scottish weather, was of the finest quality. She wore a blue silk spencer with a deep collar trimmed in fur and a pair of expensive kid gloves, both far beyond the purse of the sort of person he had nearly mistaken her for. Even her bright hair, which he had found so objectionable, was the result of nature, not alchemy. Its colour was a mixture of copper and gold-bold and to be regretted-but unavoidable.
A lady, then, and in distress if the quiver of her lips was anything to judge by. She was shivering from having stood in the snow in her slippers. Charles suppressed a sigh.
“My dear young lady, has no one told you that it is improper to wave and speak to strange gentlemen?'
She tossed her head again, and he caught the glimmer of a tear in her eye. “Of course I know that,” she said. “But if you plan to lecture me, then please move along! I have enough troubles as it is. And I would prefer not to have anyone's attention called to me just at the moment, so I would be obliged if you would simply go away!'
“May I remind you that it was you who called me?” Charles said, justifiably annoyed.
She pouted. Her lips were full and pink, verging on purple from the cold. She was trying to still them, but by now even her teeth were chattering.
“I hailed you,” she explained as if he were a slow-top, “because I find myself in a predicament, and I had hoped you would be kind enough to assist me. But if you are of no mind to do so, then I shall simply ask someone else. Go on now! Go!'
Charles found himself caught between a smile and a frown. Her air of command amused him, but he could not approve of her behaviour. “Do you mean to say you plan to accost every gentleman who passes by until one helps you? Then you shall, at the very least, catch your death of cold, and most likely will find yourself the victim of unwelcome advances.”
She looked offended, so he softened his tone. “Why don't you return to your guardian like a good girl and stop this imprudent behaviour?'
A look of hope flashed in her eyes. “That is precisely what I need to do, sir. Will you help me?'
Taken aback, Charles hesitated. He had no intention of embroiling himself in this girl's problems, but he could not very well leave someone who was clearly a lady to the mercy of unscrupulous men. Perhaps she had come to Gretna Green unexpectedly or on the wrong day. That would account for her carriage not having been met. Even though he found the notion unpleasant, he acknowledged that a few miles out of his way would not inconvenience him overmuch. His journey had already been delayed, and he had little hope of making it home before Christmas.
“I suppose I could escort you,” he said, trying not to sound too put out, “if your destination is not far. But my carriage is being mended just at the moment. You will have to wait.'
A look of desperation crossed her features. “Shall it be many minutes?” She was turning blue now about the lips, and he wondered just how long she had been standing there.
“It could be any time. But here, why don't you step inside the inn until it's ready?'
“Oh, no,” she said in a near whisper. Her eyes filled with dread. “I cannot do that!” She took a step closer and leaned toward him in confidence. “Geoffrey might see me!'
Suspicion, like a slow leak, seeped into Charles's mind. “Who is Geoffrey?” he asked warily.
She answered with a look of surprise, “The gentleman I eloped with, of course.” Then, at the sight of his horrified expression, she added, “On the way here, I discovered that we would not suit, but he refused to turn back! Can you believe that, sir? He would force me to marry him against my will!” A flash of indignation crossed her face. “I have never been so deceived in anyone's character!'
“Good God!” Charles said. He drew one fine hand across his forehead. The incipient headache threatened him again. This was precisely the sort of mischief he had dreaded in stopping here-not that he had ever expected such an impossible situation as this!
Flabbergasted beyond response, he glanced at the girl again. Her lips were still trembling, but Charles could not know for certain whether this was inspired by the cold or by the onset of tears. He was in a quandary. If he left the girl, God only knew what fate might befall her. On the other hand-
Just then, Charles heard the sound of a coach approaching, and the girl retreated quickly to her hiding-place. He turned in time to see his own vehicle sweep through the gate to the inn yard, repaired much sooner than he had been led to expect. Charles was relieved to see it and eager to be gone from this nest of lunatics. But the girl's dilemma remained to be solved.
When his horses pulled to a stop with a brusque order from his coachman, Charles called up, “Good work, Timothy. How did you persuade the villain to mend it so soon?'
“Wasn't any of my doin's, yer lordship,” his servant answered, climbing down. “The couple as ‘e'd been waitin’ to marry never showed itself. Seems like the girl's up and runned off.'
Charles smiled grimly. He thought he knew just where she had gone, too. He turned back with the intention of a questioning the young lady further, but she must have heard him talking to Timothy, for she reappeared round the back of the coach.
“Is this your carriage?” she said, beaming at the stately coach with his crest upon the door. “Then we can be off before he finds me!'
She flashed him a brilliant smile and held her hand out to Charles, as if she expected him to help her up with no more ado. In doing so, she completely missed the startled expression that had come over Timothy's face. Charles found himself growing warm under the surprised glance of his coachman.
Charles had always conducted himself with the greatest propriety. And his servants knew it. Everyone knew it. That was why the prime minister called on him when no one else could be trusted, least of all the Regent's friends. Charles's reputation as an upright fellow had earned him early respect. A successful political career was thought to be a certainty.
He remembered now that he had agreed to escort the girl to her guardian. However, that was before she had told him of her elopement, and now he was hopeful that some more proper solution could be found. He decided he must first try to persuade her to reconsider.
“My dear young lady,” he said again, this time as much for Timothy's ears as for his own, “you must think about the consequences of such an act. If you travel even for a short distance in a closed carriage with a gentleman, your reputation could easily be damaged.'
She turned round eyes upon him-her eyes were remarkably blue, the same shade as her spencer-and laughed with an incredulous twinkle. “I should think that has already been done, shouldn't you?'
She put out her hand again. Stunned by such improper sentiments, Charles supported it quite unconsciously while she climbed into his carriage. He had never been quite so taken aback by anyone before.
Standing as if frozen, he suddenly became aware that Timothy was still gaping at him. Charles frowned until his worthy servant closed his mouth and offered him a hand into his carriage.
Angry, embarrassed and feeling generally ill-used, Charles ignored Timothy's hand and his inquisitive stare. He resented being made to look so foolish in front of his coachman and wondered just what Timothy would say to his fellow servants about this escapade. At the same time, Charles realized suddenly, the girl had made him feel unreasonably prudish for being so cautious.
Charles pulled himself into the coach and seated himself with his back to the box. Owing to the season and the haste of his journey, he had travelled without his valet, so he had ample opportunity to examine his young passenger.
She had placed herself in the forward-facing seat and now looked at him with chagrin. After a slight hesitation, she reached out and patted the bench beside her.
“Wouldn't you rather face forward?” she said. “I should not at all mind being crowded, and I would hate for my presence to render you uncomfortable in your own carriage.'
Her heedless invitation astonished him. “My dear young lady,” he said, “you must take more care with what you say. After all, you don't even know me. To be quite frank, you can have no certain notion of my intentions!'
She opened her eyes wide, as if he had startled her. He was glad to see that his words had made some impression on her at last.
