Page 88 of Lady for a Season
The Duke of Buckingham
The stagecoach rocked along for mile after mile and already Maggie regretted her frugality in purchasing an outside ticket, for the sun was hot and the road dusty, so that she was already too warm and half-choked. It would be a different life now, she realised, but she could cling to one thought at least. She had watched Edward grow in strength and confidence and now that she had sent Doctor Morrison about his business, she could only hope that Elizabeth would be a good wife to Edward and that he would be happy. Still, she could not help the tears that trickled down her cheeks. She would never see him again. She tried to pay attention to the farms and pasturing animals they passed by, while thinking through her plans.
Once in London, she must find lodgings and work. Perhaps she could return to the Foundling Hospital, although now that she had left its confines and seen something of the world, she shuddered at the thought of its limited enclosure. She had the Duchess’ references. It should not be hard to find employment as a maid in a respectable and affluent household, where she might in time rise to become a housekeeper. It would be a hard-working life, but she was not afraid of that, only of the lonelinessshe felt now on leaving Edward and surely that pain would subside? Surely it would. She let go of the rail to wipe away a tear, reluctant to draw unwanted attention.
“Watch out, driver,” called one of the passengers who was facing backwards. “You’ve a fast rider behind you. I think he wants the road.”
The driver grumbled but moved the stagecoach a few feet to the left. Maggie could hear the heavy sound of a galloping horse behind them growing closer, and turned to see who could have such urgent business.
Edward! He was urging on Merlin, his face fierce with intent, his eyes scanning the stagecoach and lighting up at the sight of her.
“Stop the coach!” she cried.
“This ain’t your private carriage, miss,” snorted the driver. “This here’s a public stagecoach and if you –”
“Stop the coach!” roared Edward from alongside them and, startled, the driver reined in the horses and the stagecoach rumbled to a stop. Edward leapt down from Merlin and strode to Maggie’s side. He held up his hand to her.
“Come down, Maggie,” he said, his voice commanding.
“Is this gentleman known to you, miss?” inquired one of her fellow passengers.
“I – yes,” said Maggie, her hand reaching Edward’s and clambering down from the side of the stagecoach to the ground, where Edward crushed her into his arms.
“Thank God,” he ground out. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“Sir,” said the driver, regaining his dignity as the occupants of the coach stared at Edward and Maggie embracing. “Are you related to this young lady? Because if not –”
Edward let go of Maggie and turned to face the driver. “I am the Duke of Buckingham,” he said. “And this young lady is mybetrothed. Have your man lift down her belongings. She will be returning home in my private carriage.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” grovelled the man.
Maggie’s belongings were quickly lifted down.
“Drive on,” said Edward.
Still full of staring travellers, the stagecoach rumbled away, leaving Edward and Maggie, Merlin and Maggie’s trunk alone by the side of the road.
“You read my letter.”
He shook his head. “There was no time for letters. As soon as my mother confessed that she had lied to you and turned you out I had to come after you. What did you write?”
She shook her head. “It does not matter.”
He touched her cheek. “I should have told you back in March that I loved you, as soon as I realised it myself, that first night at Almack’s. I did not have the courage; I was afraid it would lead to being locked away. At the masquerade, I could not contain my feelings, they burst out of me, but afterwards… I am ashamed that I did not fight for you.”
“You had a lot to lose,” she said quietly.
“And I nearly lost you,” he said. “I waited too long and almost lost you, I will not risk that again.” He felt in his pocket and pulled out a little leather box, which he opened. In it sat a magnificent sapphire ring set in gold. “I have been carrying this betrothal gift with me for weeks. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife, Maggie?”
She gasped, touched the ring with one finger, then looked up at him. “It is the colour of your eyes,” she whispered.
“My love. Say yes.”
It was impossible. It would not be allowed. “Yes.”
He slipped the ring onto her finger, before cupping her face in his hands, kissing her lightly, then with more passion. “We will marry at once.”
“Are we to run away together?”
