‘I should never have sent that message. Nobody would have known I was here if I had not scribbled it in panic after I was robbed,’ the girl said sulkily.
‘And that would make everything all right, would it? You sound very young and foolish when you spout such rubbish and you put us through hours of worry today for no good reason. Can you even imagine what horrors Miss Grantham is dreading as the hours tick by with no sign of you?’
‘I—’ The girl broke off whatever she was going to say and Marianne saw her throat work as if she was fighting a sob. ‘I will not go back to London and I will not marry that man. I would rather die.’
‘Stop being such a tragedienne. Of course you must not marry a man who is so much older than you, especially if you do not even like him.’
Juno shook her head as if she could hardly believe someone was agreeing with her. She burst into overwrought tears as the strain and hardship of the last days and weeks caught up with her and Marianne drew the sobbing girl into her arms.
‘I am a crotchety old woman to rip up at you like that when you have been having such a dreadful time, but we have been so worried about you,’ she said to the top of the girl’s head. ‘And now I have made you cry when there are so many things we could be busy doing.’
‘I am so sorry,’ the girl managed to gasp out between sobs.
Marianne urged her back towards the ancient oak bench. ‘Here, sit down and cry it all out,’ she said and had to guide Juno’s steps as she could not see for tears. Trying to will comfort into the weary and woebegone girl, Marianne recalled her little sister crying as bitterly seven years ago when Marianne had told Viola she was leaving home to find Daniel. If anything could have kept Marianne away from him, it would have been her sister’s tears, but she had loved him too much to be swayed even by Viola’s heartbreak. So she had gone anyway and the close bond between her and Viola had broken that night and the gap had never truly healed.
Her little sister had not written back when Marianne sent letters to tell her about her adventures as an army wife and tried to bridge the gulf between peaceful England and the war-torn lands where she had spent most of her married life. When she had come back, she was too full of pain and grief to reach out to her aloof and preoccupied teacher sister.
Then Viola had taken her current post as governess to Sir Harry Marbeck’s wards and moved fifty miles from Bath and their parents’ cramped house and it was too late. A few stiff letters since had not mended things and Marianne did not feel far from tears herself now. She smoothed Juno’s tangled dark hair. ‘Better?’ she asked at a pause between sobs.
‘Yes,’ Juno said with a sigh that sounded as if it came from her boots and a hiccupping sob. ‘Have you a handkerchief? I lost mine.’
Marianne dug in her unfashionable but convenient pocket and Juno wiped her eyes, then blew her nose a few times and held out the handkerchief. Marianne shook her head and was pleased when Juno managed a small chuckle. ‘Not very appealing, is it?’ she said.
‘It can be washed. Speaking of washing—after you have done so, brushed your hair and eaten something, I expect you will feel much more ready to face the world again.’
‘I am not sure I want to.’
‘No? Well, I will have to send word to Miss Grantham you are safe and well and here with me so that she can call off the search and stop worrying about you.’
‘Does Uncle Alaric have to know?’
‘Alaric?’ Marianne frowned and searched her memory for one of those. Oh, of course, the girl must mean Lord Stratford. ‘Is that His Lordship’s name?’ Juno nodded. ‘It suits him,’ Marianne said unwarily.
‘The first one was King of the Visigoths who sacked Rome. Uncle Alaric is not a barbarian.’
He had certainly looked like one when he had been filthy from the road, unshaven and tired half to death, her inner Marianne argued silently, and that reminded respectable Mrs Turner how much trouble she had had with her inner siren this morning. Her silly fantasy of a pirate lover had been ridiculous, especially when he had turned out to be a viscount and way above her touch. ‘Then why did you walk past Broadley and not let His Lordship and Miss Grantham know you are safe and well?’
‘Because he might make me go back and I truly cannot live with Grandmama ever again after some of the things she said and did while we were in London, Mrs Turner. She told me she would lock me in my room until I agreed to marry Lord...’ Juno paused as if she could not even bring herself to say the man’s name. ‘Anyway, I ran away before she could actually do it, but then I got to Worcester and...’ Juno’s voice tailed off as she remembered the disaster of being robbed and Marianne expected more distraught tears.
‘I suppose you were right to run away—’ she began to say.
‘I knew you would understand,’ Juno interrupted impulsively and gave a gusty sigh of relief.
‘If there was no other way to make your feelings plain to your suitor and your family, but it was very wrong of you to leave Miss Grantham and your uncle frantically searching for you today when you are quite safe. His Lordship must have ridden after you as if the devil himself was on his heels and I doubt from the look of him that the poor man has had much sleep since he left France.’
‘I saw him. I hid behind a hedge when I
