“I would have done so, but Miss Greenaway assured me she had a safe refuge where she might wait out the time to her birthday.”
Impatience gnawed at Alex, combined with a rise of dread. Had Apple gone off on some mad scheme? “What refuge?”
“Miss Greenaway would not divulge it. I did press her to tell me, my dear Lord Dymond. However, as is now seen, I believe she was anxious to avoid your coming up with her.”
Alex’s heart dropped. Yes, she would be over-anxious on that score. After what she’d heard about her birth, what the devil else was one to expect? Not that it would deter him in the slightest.
“You took her up, didn’t you?” The lawyer hesitated and Alex lost all patience. “Look, man, I don’t care what your damned client wants! That chit was under my care and I ain’t about to ditch responsibility for her, no matter if I have to search the length and breadth of the country. What’s more, Apple knows I’ll come after her. I told her often enough.” He leaned towards the man. “I’m no fool, Vergette. I’m an earl’s heir, as you well know, and I ain’t one to bring shame and scandal down on anyone. Least of all Apple herself. But I won’t leave her to fend for herself. I’ll see she’s safe and bring her to you to get this damned trust sorted out. And then it’s down to what she wants. Do you understand me?”
The lawyer held out his hand and Alex took it, receiving a strongly gripped handshake.
“You’re a man after my own heart, my lord Dymond. And, I may add, one who would gladden the heart of my former client.”
Released, Alex sat back. “Well?”
The lawyer smiled. “I dropped her at Romsey. I dare say you know the address.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Clutching a large basket, now somewhat heavy with provisions, Apple trotted briskly out of Market Place and walked down the Hundreds. The cold bit through the gap in her cloak, despite all efforts to hold it together with her free hand.
In a way, she welcomed the wind in her eyes, raw from crying, and a spatter of light rain that refreshed her reddened cheeks. Mrs Reddicliffe had tutted and cooed while she wept on the nurse’s ample bosom as she husked out her story.
Reddy had let her have her cry out and then recommended her to dry her tears and went off to prepare a tisane in the little kitchen. By the time Apple had drunk it and been chided for thinking she must beg to stay in the cottage when the nurse declared she was only too ready to help any friend of Lady Georgiana’s, Apple’s spirits had lifted enough to enable her to run Reddy’s errand.
“I’ve baking on the go, my dear, and a rabbit to make ready for the pot, but there are one or two little things we’ll need to augment the meal now there’s two of us.”
It was a deal easier to bear the nagging distress when she had something to do, and Apple set about her task with energy, if not much enthusiasm. Even as she dropped into Herbert’s the grocer, where Reddy had said she might purchase the needed spices along with a small measure of tea and another of cocoa, her mind was never far removed from the lawyer’s revelations. Since she was certain Alex would try to find her, she expended a deal of cogitation on what she would say to him. It was largely fruitless, since her thoughts obstinately centred on the dismal future stretching ahead of her without him.
It was both odd and inconvenient to think how so short a time ago she would by now have been lost in growing excitement and anticipation of her long-held plans coming to fruition. Except she’d never been certain they could or would, since the contents of the trust remained a mystery. Yet now the prospect of journeying along with the hired companion she’d envisioned was bleak beyond words. Oh, she could still conjure a modicum of enthusiasm for the places she’d hoped to see, the artefacts she’d only known in pictures and descriptions that she had hoped to witness in person. Only, what she saw in her mind’s eye was the big Alex-shaped empty gap at her side.
It was ridiculous, futile and utterly presumptuous even to imagine him there, but his absence yawned like a wound, an actual physical hurt in the region of her heart.
She supposed that time must dull the ache. But first she must find the courage and strength to withstand any attempt he might make to resume control of her life. Now that she knew what she was, it would not do. No amount of chivalry on his part was going to change that. And if, as in a corner of her secret bosom she suspected, he’d grown a little fond, Apple could not allow him to jeopardise his reputation by association with a female in her situation. No, it simply would not do.
This dogged determination buoyed her spirits. Of all things, he must not see how much it hurt. Once more on the move, she turned left into Latimer Street and then right into Love Lane where the cottage inhabited by Georgy’s old nurse was situated.
Arriving at the door, she knocked. It opened, and all her careful thinking vanished at a stroke.
“Alex!”
The grim look on his face relaxed into a grin. “Didn’t expect me this quickly, eh?”
“No, and I wish you hadn’t come,” she lied, struggling against the flurry in her pulse.
Alex took the basket from her and drew her into the living room of the cottage, which opened directly onto the street. “Come in out of the cold. Mrs Reddicliffe is making coffee.”
Apple rubbed her hands together to still their trembling as she moved into the small room, shifting as far from Alex as the space would allow. His presence dwarfed the place, filling the emptiness like a whirling hurricane of energy.
“Mr Vergette betrayed me then?”
He came to her and helped her remove the cloak. “Most unwillingly, I assure you. Practically had to shake it out of the fellow.”
Apple took the cloak from his hands and went to lay it aside on one of the straight chairs at the table set near the front window. She gripped the back of the chair. “Did he tell you…?”
“Yes, I made him tell me.” Alex’s voice came from behind, and his hands on her shoulders turned her to face him. “And it don’t make a particle of difference to me, Apple. Guessed it ages ago, if you want the truth.”
She gazed up into his face, fighting the urge to sink into his embrace and lay her head and her troubles on his broad shoulder. “It does to me, Alex.”
