Page 29 of The Duke and the Spinster

Chapter Eleven

As Garrett reached his carriage on his second turn about the square, he heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. Turning, he saw a carriage which he vaguely recognised. As it came closer, the crest on the door informed him that it was Lord Fondleton’s. The thought of the man made him grit his teeth. Then a movement at the carriage window caught his eye.

A hand, waving at him? then, his blood ran cold – for beyond the hand at the window he could just see Lady Juliana, her bonnet gone, her hair in disarray. Lord Fondleton was bent over her, his lips in places they most definitely should not be. How could this be? Surely she would not have… could not have? For a moment, doubt assailed him, and a burning disappointment in her flowed through him. Then he looked again. Her hand moved, a desperate motion, and her face was white with fear.

Horror filled him, rapidly followed by the most intense anger he had ever felt. Fondleton was despicable! He did not know how the man had inveigled Lady Juliana into his carriage, but it was clear that she did not wish to be there.

He was walking before any thought intervened. He had to save her. The sight of her in another man’s grasp was more than he could bear. And he had promised to return her safely! The carriage turned into the yard of the Nettlefold Arms Inn, and he followed it, cautiously keeping as out of sight as possible.

~~~~~

Lady Prudence was bored. The conversation at the table near the window of the Tea Rooms had shifted from fashion to the ailments of the older women present. She stared out the window, hoping to see something of interest. Initially, she was disappointed. Then a man walked out from behind a carriage nearby, and her interest was caught. It was the Duke. Perhaps, if she slipped out, she might contrive to speak to him, to hold his attention, to be seen with him in public.

“Mother, I really must get some air. I feel all overheated in here. I am going to just walk about a little outside.”

Lady Mortel looked at her, her mind still more than half on the conversation about Mrs Milton-Wood’s chilblains, and nodded.

“Of course, dear, just don’t go far.”

“I’ll stay close mother.”

She stepped out into the sunshine, and moved towards the carriage where she had seen the Duke. He wasn’t there. She looked around, and saw him, entering the yard of the Nettlefold Arms Inn. Curious, she followed, a thrill going through her at doing expressly what she had just promised not to do.

The Inn was busy, and she slipped past a collection of travellers without being noticed. The Duke was entering the stables! Her curiosity completely engaged now, she followed. She looked through the door, and could not see him. She stepped into the dim interior, staying over against the row of horse stalls. Two stalls ahead, a stable hand opened the door. Panic took her – she could not be found here! She opened the stall door next to her and slipped inside, profoundly grateful that no horse occupied it at the time.

Peering out through the top bars of the stall door, she saw the Duke move stealthily behind a carriage in the row of carriages on the other side of the walkway. What was he doing?

~~~~~

Garrett slipped into the stables, moving back and along the wall behind the parked carriages. He was out of sight there, and could safely work his way down the row to where Fondleton’s carriage was just being manoeuvred into place. From behind the carriage next to it, he watched as Fondleton stepped down through the door on the other side of the carriage, and set off towards the main building of the Inn. A few moments later the ostlers led the unharnessed horses away to stable them.

Garrett moved fast, stepping up to the door of Fondleton’s carriage as if he had every right to be there, and opened it quietly. As he climbed in, he spoke very softly.

“Lady Juliana?”

He pulled the door to behind him, as the apparent pile of blankets on the floor squirmed.

What had Fondleton done to her?

He desperately thrust the blankets aside and gasped when he saw Lady Juliana, trussed up with no regard for her comfort. Fondleton would pay for this! But the first thing he needed to do was get Lady Juliana away from here to safety. Her eyes were deep green in the shadows, full of fear, and of hope at the same time.

He untied the scarf that bound her mouth, and she spat out the handkerchief with alacrity as he drew out his pocket knife and began to cut through the rope that tied her hands. With that released, he soon freed her ankles, as she blushed at the necessity of his hand upon her leg.

It was all carried out in silence, with them both aware of the need to remain undetected. Once free, she smiled at him, and mouthed the words, ‘thank you’. He took her hand and drew her to the door, both of them still crouched on the carriage floor, and slowly eased the door open. There was no-one in sight. They slipped from the carriage to the straw strewn floor of the carriage house and stable. He risked a whisper.

“This way – along the wall, and out the back door, then down to the river.”

She nodded, and he led her away, her hand warm in his. Blessedly, the stablehands were all occupied at the other end of the building, and they passed unnoticed out the door, past the great muckheaps of stable manure, and down the path to the river. They hurried, almost running, and did not stop until they reached a secluded cluster of trees at the river’s edge. She allowed herself to fall against the solid trunk of a tree, breathing hard.

She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, tousled hair and ruffled skirts regardless. When he had seen her in Fondleton’s grasp, he had felt his heart torn – all of the turmoil of thought which had been triggered by Lady Bellinghaugh’s words to him in Bath had fallen away. He knew now what his feelings were. He loved her. He had never quite believed those who said that love was a thing that simply happened, whether you wished it or not. Now, he could not argue the fact. He loved her. Somehow, in the short time since her arrival in Upper Nettlefold, she had become the core of his being.

He still held her hand. She had not drawn it away. He lifted it gently to his lips, and pressed a kiss to her palm, savouring the heat he felt through her glove. When he lifted his eyes from her hand, she was staring at him, an odd expression of uncertainty on her face. He leant forward, and brushed her lips with his, softly, then retreated, releasing her hand. She sighed, shaking her head.

“How is it, that when you do that, I am not afraid, not repelled, yet, when Lord Fondleton touched me that way, I was utterly repulsed?”

“Perhaps because you know that I am not an unprincipled cad? For now, we do not have time to debate my virtues,” she gave a little laugh at his words, “we need to restore your hair to order, and brush down your skirts, then get to the gardens of Hardcastle House as soon as possible.”

“Yes. Do you, perchance, amongst those virtues, count a talent for dressing a lady’s hair? For I confess that I am not skilled at doing so when I have no mirror. And if I lean over the river, I may fall in!”