Page 20 of A Lady's Heart Deceived
She got to her feet, and for a moment, Piers feared she had taken offense at his remark. To her credit, she held out her hand, offering it to him. “Since we are to now be partners in this endeavor, may I suggest we dispense with the formalities? I would much prefer you call me Maggie rather than Miss Radley.”
After a moment’s hesitation, he accepted her hand, giving it a gentle but reassuring shake. “Alright—partners it is. And my name is Piers. You are more than welcome to never again call me Captain Denford.”
He’d hated being stuck in the army. Being referred to as “Captain” was a constant and uncomfortable reminder of his time spent in service. Away from London, and with this most extraordinary woman as his travelling companion, Piers felt a sense of hope. Life could be good, even if it was only going to be for a short time.
Maggie nodded. “Piers it is. I am glad that we are in this together. This calls for another round of drinks. And don’t worry about my ability to tolerate alcohol. If I can handle my Uncle Ewan’s Scottish whisky, I can deal with English ale.”
Chapter Thirteen
The Cock Inn only had a handful of guest rooms, which Maggie was relieved to discover were accessed via a separate, secure entrance away from the public tavern below. An hour and several ales later, she and Piers climbed the stairs leading to their quarters.
“You hold your drink well for a lady of quality,” he observed.
She held a hand over her mouth, covering a burp. “I told you, this is nothing compared to the whisky we drink in Scotland. If anyone catches my Uncle Ewan’s eye, he has them downing a dram or three. I must confess, I don’t have much of a recollection of last Hogmanay, apart from Mama helping me up to bed.”
He chuckled. “Sounds like my home when my brother starts in on the cider. He takes no prisoners. And while I haven’t endured the forced march over Strathmore Mountain, I have been made to carry a telescope out into the freezing night when my cider-addled sibling decides that everyone must partake in a spot of stargazing. Northamptonshire might not be Scotland, but it can still get bitterly cold, especially on a clear night.”
Maggie stopped at the door of her room. The ale and company had been both refreshing and quite lovely. Her night had been made all the better by the surprise arrival of the handsome army captain. And it wasn’t just the ale that made him rather dashing.
I can’t remember the last time I had such a pleasant evening with another person.
The realization that he had made her smile had Maggie smiling once more.
“Piers, I have a small confession to make. When I first saw you tonight, I know you weren’t pleased to see me, but I was more than relieved to see you. I’m not used to being by myself. And while I know I could have made it safely to Coventry on my own, I am happy that we are in this together.”
He gave her a respectful but easy bow. “It came as a bit of a shock when I saw you sitting in the corner, a plate of supper on the table in front of you. The fact that you looked quite comfortable probably set my temper off. I was wrong to speak to you in such a way. I realize that you are not a damsel in distress. And I am also pleased that we are going to be travelling in each other’s company.”
When their gazes met, she could have sworn that her heart skipped a beat.
“Good night, Maggie.”
“Good night, Piers.”
Once inside her room, Maggie closed and locked the door. She propped a straight-backed chair under the handle. It was a neat trick her mother had taught her from the days when Mary had lived alone at Cambridge University following the death of Mary’s father. Maggie Radley might be new to travelling and staying in public places, but she wasn’t naïve.
She turned and glanced at the well provisioned bed. It was small, but when she had first arrived, a short nap had proven it to be quite comfortable. Her back was tired and stiff from the long hours in the mail coach, and she was looking forward to a good night’s sleep.
After undressing, she slipped into a simple cotton nightgown. From her father’s travel bag, Maggie retrieved her diary and a small pencil. She had been making notes in the book since the day the letter had arrived, notifying her of Robert’s death. It also contained all the snippets of information she had managed to gather, since she had decided to commission the statue earlier in the year.
Climbing into bed, she pulled up the bed covers and snuggled into the warmth. Flicking through the pages, her eyes catching the odd word here and there, a sudden realization dawned on her. She didn’t actually know that much about the man she had once been about to marry.
Piers had been adamant he couldn’t find Robert in the army records. And her own inquiries had also drawn a blank.
From the back of the book, she pulled out two pieces of neatly folded paper. The first was the letter from someone in Robert’s unit, informing her that he had fallen in battle. Until today, she had never questioned the contents of the note. Grief had enveloped her in its dark embrace the morning the missive had arrived at Fulham Palace, and for more than a year, she had not been able to so much as think of it without falling apart. The following year had only been marginally better. In fact, it was really the last eight months during which Maggie had felt more control of her emotions. Only then had she been able to make any sort of plans.
28 June 1815
Miss Margaret Radley,
My dear Miss Radley,
With keenest regret, I have to inform you that Captain Robert Eustace Taylor fell heroically in battle at Waterloo on June eighteenth in the year of our lord eighteen hundred and fifteen.
I am your obedient servant,
Commander-in-Chief
The First Foot Guards
