‘Who are you, then?’ he barked impatiently.
‘A friend of Miss Grantham’s and of her own former governess, Miss Donne—whose privacy you are violating by calling at her house at such an unearthly hour and demanding the company of a lady living under her roof.’
‘Privacy be damned,’ he said with an exasperated sigh, as if he was still thinking of pushing past her to rouse the household and maybe even opening every door he came across until he found Fliss behind one of them. And all he would find was an empty room and neatly made bed so she could not allow that.
‘Do tell me where you live, sir, so I can organise an early morning invasion of your house and see how you like it,’ she said and did her best not to blink when he stared back as if daring her to do her worst.
‘Stratford Park,’ he snapped impatiently.
Oh, no, he must be Viscount Stratford, then—Juno Defford’s uncle and guardian and Fliss’s former employer. How could she not have realised he was the only autocrat likely to turn up in Broadley demanding Fliss’s presence at this ridiculous hour of the day and throwing his weight about when she did not jump to obey his orders? He was supposed to be in Paris annoying the French, but here he was on Miss Donne’s doorstep, annoying Marianne instead.
‘So you are the idiot who caused this unholy mess in the first place,’ she said with a glare to let him know what she thought of him for neglecting a girl he should be honour bound to care for.
‘Maybe,’ he said wearily. He took off a fine and filthy riding glove to rub a hand over his eyes.
‘I suppose you really are Lord Stratford?’ she said with haughtily raised brows to let him know his title cut no ice with her.
‘Yes, and you are still in my way. Whoever you are, you seem to know a great deal about me and mine although we have never set eyes on one another until this very moment, so you must also know how urgent my mission is and I must suppose you are being rude and obstructive on purpose.’
‘Think what you please, I am not rousing the household when they had so little sleep and so much worry yesterday because of what you did to your unfortunate ward.’
‘Is Juno here, then—is she safe?’
Chapter Two
At last, there was a gruff but almost painful anxiety for the lost girl in his voice and Marianne had been accusing him of not caring about her ever since she heard Juno Defford’s sad story from a panicked Fliss yesterday morning. He had treated the poor child like an unwanted package he could hand over to his mother to be rid of however she chose and look how the wretched woman had chosen to do it. The very idea of such an April and December marriage for the girl had made her shudder with revulsion, so goodness knew how alone and desperate such a young woman must have felt when she realised what was being planned for her. Taking a deeper breath to calm her temper and trying to remind herself there were two sides to every story, Marianne struggled to be fair to him, although it really was a struggle.
‘No,’ she said starkly. She could not give him false hope. There had been no sign of the girl yesterday and no late-night knock on the door to usher in a soaked and exhausted Juno.
‘God help us, then,’ he murmured wearily, as if hope his ward was here was all that had kept him riding on for what looked like days and the loss of it meant he might collapse after all. ‘What must I do to find her?’ he added despairingly.
Marianne knew he was not speaking to her when he shut his eyes and swayed as if her No was a felling blow. She watched him battle exhaustion and despair and her temper calmed at such signs he really did care about that lonely little rich girl whose only refuge in a storm was her former governess, but something told her sympathy would only revolt such a proud man so she had best not risk it for both their sakes.
‘We looked all the way from here to Worcester yesterday and searched every hiding place we could think of on the way back,’ she explained curtly. ‘The rain was so heavy in the end we could only see a few steps in front of us, so we were forced to give up the search for the night. It will begin again as soon as all the searchers are awake after their long and weary day yesterday.’
‘I would not have stopped,’ he muttered almost accusingly.
She felt fury flare again and was glad it stopped her having to feel sorry for his lordly arrogance. ‘Then you would be no use to anyone now, would you? I told you we could not see for the force of the rain. If you had been out looking for her in it with no idea of the local terrain, we would now be put to the trouble of rescuing you as well as finding your niece.’
‘You were out in it as well, then?’ he asked incredulously.
‘Of course I was. Did you expect me to sit at home sewing while a young woman was lost and alone and with all that brooding cloud about to warn us that a heavy storm was on the way?’
‘I expect nothing, ma’am. You are a stranger to me and still in my way.’
His hard expression and stony look of indifference made her temper flare, hot and invigorating this time, and there was no reason to hold back now he had made it so
