He shuddered at the very thought of doing the latter just yet. Not that he was afraid to get back on a decent horse instead of the bad-tempered nag he had ridden yesterday. His brother had taught him to get back on a horse as soon as he fell off it as a boy and he had learned not to fear them. Horses were tricky creatures, much like people really in their likes and dislikes, diverse characters and strengths and weaknesses. On the whole he preferred horses and dogs to people now he lay here and thought about it—they were generally better tempered and a lot more reliable.
Except listening to the brother and sister talking about possible futures outside his window had made him think about people he could like. They were obviously very close and seemed to understand one another better than they probably wanted to be understood. He missed his brother so badly when he looked back at the one person who had made an effort to understand a scrubby brat seven years younger than the charmed heir to their father’s title and lands. George had always done his best for his annoying little brother and Yelverton and Marianne’s dilemma as they faced the truth that his marriage would mean she must move on touched him as he had not let himself be touched for far too long. Maybe there was something he could do to help them both. He might not be able to follow up on his instant attraction to the lovely Mrs Turner, but the spark of an idea had come into his aching head as he listened to their conversation.
‘Uncle Alaric?’ Juno’s voice whispered from the doorway.
‘Juno?’ he asked foolishly because who else could it be with Yelverton and his sister communing with the rising sun outside and no sign of any indoor servants to be seen? He rolled his head on to the bruise when he tried to look at her and bit back a pained gasp so as not to frighten her away. ‘Come in here where I can see you,’ he said more harshly than he meant to because of the pain thundering through his head like a steam hammer as he rolled away from that side and sighed with relief. ‘It hurts to twist round and peer at you when you stand over there,’ he explained and hoped she would excuse so much more than one barked order when he was in pain. He held his breath and prayed silently she would forget to be afraid of him so they could start again.
‘Sorry,’ she said softly and came to the foot of the bed so he could see her as clearly as he was allowed to see anything in this shadowy old room. She looked so much paler than he remembered and thin with it. His heart twisted with self-loathing as he took in all he and his mother had done to the unfortunate girl between them with the Dowager’s repellent scheming and his neglect.
‘Do not apologise to me, Juno,’ he said. ‘I have done nothing to deserve it.’ He heard the anguish in his own voice and was ashamed he could not find the strength to hide it for her sake.
‘No, you do deserve it, Uncle Alaric, and I am so very sorry. I have been a widgeon about my come out and so many other things since. I am supposed to be grown up. I should have argued about going to London even when Grandmama insisted it was high time I made my debut and you agreed with her because other girls do it at my age and actually enjoy it. If I had told you how much I dreaded it, I know you would not have made me go. And I should have written to you the moment Grandmama tried to bullock me into marrying that horrid old man. So you see, none of this would have happened if I was braver. You would not be hurt so badly after riding all that way to find me and when you got here I just told you to go away.’
‘That was not your fault and you did steel yourself to go to London when you did not want to go and you refused to marry that fat rogue and I am proud of you even if you are not. It took great courage to run away when the Dowager tried to force your hand. I cannot even imagine how terrified you must have been when you had to set out on such a journey alone and you got all the way here with no money left as well, Jojo. All in all, I cannot think of any girl I ever met who has more courage than you.’
His imagination painted a picture of a much younger Marianne flying from her safe home at whatever vicarage she came from to find, then wed, her gallant soldier. Perhaps there was one girl who had been as brave, if not braver, than Juno when she set out to find Miss Grantham and ask for sanctuary then, but as he had not met Marianne at that age
