The Accidental Marriage (10 page)

Julia began to fight back in earnest, but the way he held her prevented her from kicking him, or scratching out his eyes, as she wanted to do. Then he released her so suddenly that she fell to the floor. By the time she struggled to sit up her tormentor and another man were fighting, staggering around and exchanging punches which rarely landed. They were equally drunk, Julia concluded after watching them for a few moments.

She scrambled out of the way, for they were staggering wildly, knocking over stools. She eyed the pewter tankards, wondering whether she could use one as a weapon and hit the man who’d attacked her on the head, but before she could do so he received a blow on the chin which sent him crashing to the ground. Julia looked up to thank the other man, presumably her rescuer, but at that moment he slipped and fell himself, hitting his head on a corner of one of the benches.

By this time the commotion had brought others into the tap room. Herr Ritter took one look and ordered two of the pot boys to carry Julia’s amorous swain outside, and put his head under the pump.

Another, plainly but well-dressed man had run to kneel by her rescuer.

‘Oh, sir, pray wake up, do!’ he said, in English, Julia noticed somewhere at the back of her mind.

Herr Ritter came across and helped the valet, for someone like that had to be a gentleman’s gentleman, turn his master round.

‘Fetch water and some cloths, girl,’ Herr Ritter ordered, and Julia ran to the kitchen.

When she came back they had the man sitting up, resting against his valet’s knee, groaning. His cravat had been loosened, and the valet was struggling to unwind it from his master’s throat, saying distractedly that he must give him air.

‘Better put a cold compress on that bruise,’ Julia said, soaking one of the rags and holding it out. ‘Move this cravat, I can’t see where best to put it.’

Meekly the valet did as he was told, and Julia, leaning forward and about to apply the wet rag, almost dropped it in surprise. Her rescuer was Sir Carey Evelegh.

Julia found it impossible to sleep. She had been sent to bed by Herr Ritter, who said he and Tanner could carry the gentleman to his room. She supposed Sir Carey was on his way home, for this was a regular route many of the English visitors to Vienna had used. To meet him here should be no surprise, but to see him drunk was.

She had never seen him even mildly inebriated in Vienna, when they had been at balls where drink was freely available. Was he the sort of man who indulged when he was alone, but remained sober in company? Somehow that did not fit her image of him.

He had, however, saved her from the other man’s unwelcome attentions. She could appeal to him for help in getting back to England. Then she paused. He might offer to escort her, but how could she possibly travel such a long distance alone with a man? She could not. It would ruin her reputation, and that was all she had. He might offer to lend her the money for the journey, and she could travel alone. Or he would take a message to Fanny, telling her the situation and asking for money to be sent here.

She was heavy-eyed by morning, and thankful she did not have to get up at dawn to wait on those guests who wanted to set off as soon as it was light enough to see their way. Herr Ritter, perhaps mindful of his sister’s admonition to treat his temporary maidservant properly, had told her to sleep in when he sent her off to bed.

She was dozing when the thought that Sir Carey might be one of the travellers making an early departure caused her to sit up in alarm. Her tiny room overlooked the stable yard, and she had heard considerable activity there for some while, without thinking about it. The ostlers had been shouting, she had heard the stamping of horses’ hooves, and the sound of carriage wheels rolling over the cobbles. Was he the sort of man who could recover from drunkenness quickly? If so, he might have gone already, and she would have lost her best chance of help.

Hastily she dressed, dragged her hair back roughly with a ribbon, and covered it with the mob cap all the maids wore. Then she hurried downstairs.

As she entered the tap room Sir Carey’s valet, who had been talking to Herr Ritter, turned and saw her.

‘Oh, Miss, my master wishes to speak to you.’

Julia gulped. ‘Is he - better?’ she asked, marvelling at a man’s capacity to appear atrociously drunk, as well as suffer a blow on the head, and be up and apparently ready for conversation so early the following day.

The valet gave a discreet smile. ‘My master does not indulge often,’ he said, his voice prim. ‘He has a severe headache this morning. From the blow to his head,’ he added.

And she’d hazard a guess that wasn’t the only cause, Julia thought, and then wished she had taken time to make her appearance tidier. She pulled the mob cap straight, and bit her lips, a trick she had seen Fanny use to redden them.

‘The gentleman’s in the parlour,’ Herr Ritter intervened, and Julia nodded, and followed the valet towards the room indicated.

* * * *

When Sir Carey awoke, his first thought was for his aching head, and his second a confused recollection that he had seen Julia Marsh bending over him the previous evening. Had it been a dream? Had she really been there, and if so, why? How had she come to be here? He’d seen no sign of anyone else from her party, no Lady Cunningham, no Mr or Mrs Pryce, no little girls. They had left Vienna several days before he had, and he would have expected them to be much farther on the way home by now.

He gave up thinking about that. It was a puzzle he could not resolve by himself. His head ached abominably. He put his hand up to where the pain was most severe, and felt the bump on the side of his head. That was it. He remembered some fisticuffs. Why? Had he been attacked for some reason? That seemed unlikely within a respectable inn, and he had no recollection of going outside, where he might have been the object of robbery. His fighting was confined to Gentleman Jackson’s rooms at number 13 New Bond Street, and he indulged more as a means of keeping in trim than because he was naturally bellicose.

There was a gentle tap on the door and Tanner put his head round it. ‘Do you wish to get up yet, Sir Carey?’ he asked. ‘You did say you wanted to set off the moment it was light. That is, it was your intention last night, before you sustained your injury.’

Sir Carey groaned. ‘Before I made a confounded fool of myself,’ he said. ‘Why was I fighting?’

Tanner came into the room. ‘The man was molesting the young person,’ he explained. ‘She did not appear willing, so you knocked him down.’

‘He must have knocked me down too, to cause this lump.’

‘No, sir. There was beer on the floor, and you slipped, and hit your head on one of the stools.’

‘I remember. And the girl? Was it she who was pressing cold cloths on my head?’

‘Yes, sir, though the innkeeper soon sent her away so that he and I could put you to bed.’

Despite his headache, Sir Carey grinned. ‘So you preserved my modesty?’

Tanner handed him a glass full of some white liquid. ‘Drink this, sir. I found it very effective with my former master, who was one of the Prince Regent’s intimates.’

‘And went to bed roaring drunk every night?’ Sir Carey commented, and after a disgusted look at the glass, took it and quickly drained the contents.

Half an hour later, feeling considerably better, he was downstairs in the parlour waiting for breakfast. He needed several cups of coffee to continue the good work Tanner’s potion had started. Rolls and a few slices of beef and ham would be welcome, too, though he did not feel up to tackling eggs yet.

Then he recalled his dream of seeing Julia Marsh. Had it been a dream? He could soon settle that, at least.

‘Tanner, go and ask the girl who helped me last night to come here, please. I need to thank her.’

* * * *

Fanny and the Pryces reached the coast more swiftly than they had expected, but had to wait two days for a passage. She had sunk into a dull lethargy, unable to think ahead or make plans.

‘It is natural in your condition, my dear,’ Elizabeth tried to reassure her. ‘You are tired, you have been under considerable strain, and this journey has been long and tiresome. I am weary enough of it. But we will be in England soon, and then in London, where you will be able to rest.’

‘You are very good to me. I wonder how far behind Julia is?’

‘Not far, a few days only, I hope, and you may rely on Spicer and Williams to bring her and Maggie home as quickly as they can.’

‘When they are with me again, I must make arrangements to go to Greystones. It’s where Frederick will expect to find me if - when he comes home.’

‘You need to rest, and you need cheerful company, not moping alone in the country.’

Fanny shook her head. ‘The Season will soon begin, and you will want to entertain, and go out to visit friends. I shall be in the way.’

‘Nonsense. The house is big enough for you to have your own rooms, and you need never meet anyone if that is what you wish. We will send a message to Greystones so that Sir Frederick knows where you are.’

‘You don’t believe he will come back to me, do you?’

‘Do you wish him to? After his behaviour?’

‘I love him,’ Fanny said, and began to cry. ‘Besides, if this child should be a boy, I’ll have given him his heir and he’ll be delighted.’

‘First you must look after yourself, so that you don’t lose the baby. Moping in the country will do neither you nor him any good. If you are in London you can consult the best doctors, too.’

‘You may have the right of it,’ Fanny said. She was thoughtful. She desperately wanted this baby, not only for itself, but, if it should be a boy, as a means of bringing Frederick back to her.

‘I do. The girls would not wish to be parted from my pair, either. They will miss their father less if they are with us. At Greystones they would notice his absence more.’

Fanny knew she was right. She would keep Julia with her, as governess, and soon Frederick would have realized his mistake, or his Russian mistress would tire of him, and he would come back to her.

* * * *

Julia, thankful Sir Carey had not left, followed his valet into the parlour, and stood just inside the door, looking at him where he sat beside the fire, a table spread with several dishes drawn up before him. He looked pale, and his eyes were bloodshot. Were these signs of drunkenness, or something else?

‘It was you! I thought I’d been dreaming. Julia, come and sit down. Tanner, send for more coffee. I want to know how the devil you come to be here, dressed like a servant.’

She couldn’t suppress a smile. ‘That’s what I am, temporarily, Sir Carey,’ she told him. ‘A step lower than a governess.’

‘Where is Lady Cunningham? And the Pryces? I was told you had all left Vienna together.’

‘We did, but our coach was not so fast, and we lost touch,’ Julia said, then paused as Herr Ritter himself came in with another pot of coffee and a cup and plate for Julia. He poured out some coffee and set the cup in front of her.

‘Stay here with your friend,’ the innkeeper said. ‘Maybe he’ll be able to help you.’

Sir Carey frowned. ‘Of course, if I can. Thank you, Herr Ritter. Now,’ he said, as the door closed behind the man and they were alone. ‘You lost touch? Why did they not wait for you? This is most peculiar. Why should you need help? Why are you working here, at a wayside inn where, however respectable it seems, you are vulnerable to the sort of lascivious approaches I saw last night? And where are the others of your party?’

He carved her some ham, and Julia found she was hungry. She broke a roll and began to eat as she explained the arrangement of the two coaches.

‘Then there was the accident, and Spicer, he was Mr Pryce’s valet, was killed.’

‘Killed? You poor girl! What accident?’

Julia, reluctant to recall those horrific moments, swiftly told him how the coach had foundered.

‘We were taken to a convent and the nuns cared for us. Maggie is very ill with an ague. I was delirious with a fever for a day or so, but I soon recovered. Williams broke his leg and was taken to an abbey nearby. But we lost everything. I lost the money Fanny had given me for the journey. That’s why I am here, hoping to find some English travellers who can at least take a message to Fanny and the Pryces.’

She did not add that she hoped to meet someone who might escort her back to England. If he offered, she could not accept.

There was a tap on the door, and Tanner appeared.

‘I beg your pardon, Miss, Sir Carey, but Frisby wants to know if he should put the horses to. Your baggage is all packed.’

‘Then I’m afraid you’ll have to unpack it. I’ll need the carriage later, but not for an hour or so. Tell him we will not be leaving here today.’

Tanner bowed himself out, and Sir Carey turned back to Julia.

‘Where is this convent? And the abbey? I will go and see how Maggie and the coachman are, and when they might be able to travel. Will you come with me, to vouch for me to the good nuns?’

* * * *

They obtained directions to the abbey, and were carried there swiftly, despite the snow which was falling steadily.

Julia was shown to a small room where there were just two chairs, being told courteously that women visitors were not permitted further. It was half an hour before Sir Carey came back and ushered her into his carriage.

‘Williams is recovering, and very fretful. He blames himself very much for the accident to the coach, and Spicer’s death, but I think I persuaded him these things happen, we cannot prevent all accidents. I have left sufficient money for him and Maggie to come home when they are well enough.’

Julia smiled at him. ‘You are very kind, and Mr Pryce and Fanny will repay you when you get back to England.’

‘There is no need.’

She was wondering whether he had left enough money for her as well, but finding it difficult to ask. ‘I can go on working at the inn until they are better,’ she said finally, and he turned to look at her.

‘You can’t stay there. It isn’t fitting. We’ll discuss what we are to do later, after I have seen Maggie.’