Marianne wondered what they had done between them to make Juno so revolted by the very idea of him she could not even say his name. From the almost childlike appeal in the girl’s blue eyes she really hoped it had not been the ultimate in forced persuasion to make her agree she would have to marry a man who had ravished her. Heaven forbid, Marianne decided with a shudder. Sooner or later Fliss or Lord Stratford or maybe even Mrs Marianne Turner would have to try and persuade Juno to talk about what had happened to make the terrible risks of running away from all she knew to get here and escape that terrible situation seem worthwhile.
‘I promise I will make myself useful and I would much sooner scrub floors and clean windows for the rest of my life than marry that awful old man. I know you work very hard because Miss Grantham said so in her letters and I am sure you could do with some help,’ Juno said earnestly and that proved she was still more child than woman, did it not? To think she would just stay here and pretend the frantic search for her would die away and leave her in peace with Lord Stratford ransacking half the Welsh Marches for her was a world away from reality.
‘Hiring yourself out as a housemaid until you are of age could never work. Lord Stratford nearly collapsed from shock and exhaustion when he found out you had not got to Broadley ahead of him, so we simply have to tell him you are safe, Juno. It would be cruel not to and you do not seem a heartless person to me.’
‘No, I am not,’ Juno said, her extreme youth obvious in her pout and refusal to meet Marianne’s eyes and admit she was wrong to panic and come here instead of simply walking on into the town and saving herself and everyone else the extra trouble and effort of coming all the way out here. ‘I suppose you are right,’ she said at last.
‘Can I trust you not to run away again while I write to tell Miss Grantham you are here and ask her to pass the news on to your uncle?’
‘I did promise I would not,’ Juno said and sounded so sulky and misused that Marianne nearly laughed. She resisted the urge as the girl was obviously in a fragile state and might take offence and flounce off if she did, promise or no.
‘Good, then I will write a hasty letter and get our stable lad to deliver it before I come and find you again. Thank goodness the lad had enough sense to stay sober so he is in a fit state to ride Robin’s brother Swift to Broadley.’
‘I must hope he is not, then,’ Juno said. ‘Swift,’ she explained when Marianne raised her eyebrows.
Chapter Four
Alaric knew it was a mistake to come, but he could not stay away. Even after the bath and shave Miss Donne had insisted on before he set out and the change of clothes he had needed for so long, he was not fit to do much more than sleep. But he had to see Juno with his own eyes and reassure himself she was safe, however foolish it was not to rest first and let her do so as well. At least every time his vision blurred and his brain threatened to shut down, his abiding sense of shame jerked him back to life again and urged him relentlessly on.
This was all his fault; he should have stayed in England and never mind his mother’s open dislike of her only surviving child. It had been his duty to be sure Juno felt supported and loved during her first Season in town, even if he was too shallow to actually admit he loved his niece despite what her grandmother thought of both of them. What a fool he had been to think it would be better if he was not there to irritate the Dowager Lady Stratford and make Juno’s debut a disaster. He shook his head to try to dismiss the fact his mother had hated him from the day he was born from his weary thoughts. He had always borne that burden and piling it on top of the guilt might make him forget the here and now and fall off this hard-mouthed and restive animal. He frowned at the road ahead because surely this back-of-beyond house of Yelverton’s should be in sight by now? His latest hired horse was not an easy ride, but was every bit as fast as the ostler promised he would be.
Ah, there it was and a far more impressive house than expected, given Yelverton’s rough manners and ruffian-like appearance this morning. As if he had any room to talk about appearances, Alaric chided himself and frowned at the streak of pale blue sky fighting the pall of cloud. Yelverton’s home was nestled at the heart of a verdant valley and soon Alaric would have no more time to rail at himself for being a useless guardian. ‘Aye, and do not forget you are a loser in love as well, Stratford, and Yelverton is the
