Page 24 of The Lady Who Said No to the Duke
Her robe was warm and her feet snug in their slippers, so she prowled into the parlour, studying the rather gloomy prints on the wall, poking the fire, twitching the vase of dried grasses into order.
It was not nervousness about facing Mama and Papa.Or only a little, perhaps.It wasn’t even the rather daunting prospect of having to take the Duke to task over his neglect of her.It was the abrupt way she had parted from Hal.But what could they have said that would have made any difference?He had been a friend for a short while, one who had offered her good advice, one who had his own life to live in a world quite different from the universe she was destined to occupy.
If I agree to marry the Duke, she thought.
She could feel herself sliding inexorably towards agreeing and realised that it was Hal’s common-sense suggestion about actually talking to the man and expressing her feelings that had made this feel so inevitable.
Before, her determination had been feeding off her anger and instinctive rebellion; now she was going to have to be reasonable, to negotiate.That made her resentful, true, but it also made her feel resigned.
Her reflection in the over-mantel mirror stared down at her and she glared back at it.‘You are an idiot,’ she said softly.‘I know what is the matter with you: if Hal Forrest had swept you up in his arms, kissed you passionately and announced that he loved you to distraction, you would have run off with him without a moment’s hesitation—and have been sorry afterwards.You don’t know how youfeel about him, let alone how he feels about you, and now you’ll never know.’
Which was probably a very good thing.
The room, with its smouldering fire, was becoming stuffy, so she slipped behind the curtains, perched on the window seat and opened the casement to let in some fresh air.
The rain had stopped some time ago, she realised, and darkness had fallen.The cobbles gleamed wetly with the reflected light from the two inns and, as she watched, three men stumbled into view below her, reeling and flailing at each other, their voices raised.
They were drunk and brawling and had just been thrown out by the landlord, she realised as they stood in the middle of the street, exchanging insults at the top of their voices.
Opposite, Hal strolled out of the front door of the Angel, a pint tankard in his hand.
He stood watching the men who finally staggered off, apparently firm friends again, then looked across, his gaze lifted, probably to look at the famous inn sign of the Bell that stretched out across the pavement, Thea thought.
In the darkness between curtains and glass he couldn’t see her, of course, but she lifted a hand in greeting nevertheless.
Hal stared and Thea realised that her white sleeves, and perhaps the pale oval of her face, must be visible in the gloom.
He raised his right hand, as though to wave back, then someone opened the door behind him and two men walked out.Hal turned the gesture into one of smoothing down his hair, ruffled by the breeze down the street, and the men walked away, leaving the door into the Angel open.
As Hal turned and walked away, the light from the roombehind sent his shadow, elongated into a bar of black, across the road to the walls of the Bell, and then he was inside, the door closed, and the street was deserted once more.
As he had promised, he was watching out for her, had heard the drunks shouting and had come out to make certain it was nothing that could threaten her.
Warmed by the thought, Thea parted the curtains and made her way to bed, suddenly so weary it was an effort to drag off her robe.
Chapter Eight
‘How would you like us to go about the next stages, my lady?’Baggott the coachman asked at seven the next morning.He stood respectfully by her breakfast table in the parlour, hat and whip in hand.
‘Are you wishful to break the journey at, say, Baldock, ma’am?The White Horse is a good inn, I can recommend it as being very respectable for a lady.If that is what you’d like, then we can take it easy all the way.Or, if the weather holds and there are no problems on the road, then we can make it to London tonight.But it’s near eighty miles and a long day for you.’
‘It will be an even longer one for you, Baggott.I can’t ask you to drive all that way.’
‘Oh, Jim and the lad will spell me, my lady.They’re both good, safe drivers, never fear.If the weather turns against us, then we can always stop somewhere else.’
‘Then try to do it in the day, please.But I am relying upon you to stop as soon as you are all feeling tired—or before that if necessary!’
The prospect of two more days on the road, with her father waiting fuming at the end of it, was not at all enticing.Best to get it over with.She was tired of uncertainty and muddled feelings and a vague sense of dread.
* * *
The autumn weather was kind to them.It was grey and overcast with threatening clouds, but no rain fell.As they passed through the valley of the River Ivel, the horses splashed through floods and Jim the groom leaned down to call through the window that they should put their feet on the seat in case water came in, but they passed through safely and reached the White Horse in Baldock to take a snatched midday meal.
Thea saw the shabby black carriage pass them and stop outside a smaller inn further along the street.
‘Well, I’ll be b— Er…blowed, my lady,’ Baggott said.‘That’s—that’s Mr Forrest driving.’
‘Giving his men a rest,’ Thea said, secretly impressed that Hal drove a four-in-hand with such skill.‘Does he know we are intending to do the journey in the day?’
