The Belle Dames Club (16 page)

They had left the copse behind them and were now riding along a narrow ridge with the land falling away gently to one side. Clarissa brought her mare closer to the black hunter.

‘My lord, how long will it take to get back to town?’

‘Too long to reach it before dark. If my memory serves me correctly the river is over in that direction. We can cross it at Uxbridge, but then it is still more than an hour’s ride.’ He pointed down the hill. ‘There is a small building in the field down there, a shepherd’s hut, most likely, and a stream. Water for ourselves and the horses. We can shelter there until it is light.’

He did not wait for her to comment but pushed on again in the failing light: to the west, a purple-black bank of cloud was rising, bringing with it the promise of a black, wet night. They crossed the field in silence and after a rapid look around to make sure there was no one in sight, dismounted by a small wooden hut.

‘This is not big enough for the horses,’ muttered the earl. ‘We will risk letting them run free.’ He pushed open the door and Clarissa followed him inside. Two slits high in the walls, just below the eaves, allowed in a little light and once her eyes had grown accustomed to the gloom she saw that it was bare save for a pile of straw in one corner and a horn beaker on a ledge. A small fireplace had been built into one wall, with sticks and wood lying ready.

‘Stay here while I see to the horses.’

‘I will help you.’ She moved back to the door. ‘It will be done in half the time if there are two of us, and the light is almost gone.’

He did not smile; she heard no word of thanks, nothing more
than a curt nod, but she felt she knew him well enough now to be satisfied with that. They removed the saddles and stacked them just inside the hut.

‘Heaven knows how we shall untangle this,’ said Clarissa, dropping the harness on top of her saddle.

‘It will be easier in the daylight.’

‘If we still have horses. What if they wander off?’

‘They won’t go far in the dark, and there looked to be a stout hedge around the field on three sides, and the stream across the bottom. Talking of which,’ he picked up the beaker. ‘Would madam care for a little refreshment before we retire?’

She followed him down to the stream.

‘Was that a jest, my lord?’

‘I suppose it was.’

‘I vow I did not think you had it in you.’

‘I have said before, you do not know me, Miss Wyckenham.’

She smiled, but made no reply. The sound of water was very close and soon Clarissa could see the white froth tumbling past them. Lord Alresford was bending low over the water.

‘There’s a rocky bed. We must hope it is clean.’ He reached forward and washed out the beaker before filling and raising it to his lips. ‘That’s sweet enough.’ He refilled it and handed it to Clarissa. ‘It’s not champagne, but it will do.’

By the time they started to make their way back it was so dark the hut was only a full-black square against the grey-black night. The earl reached for Clarissa’s hand.

‘I don’t want to lose you,’ he said shortly.

The hut was warm after the fresh breeze.

‘Why don’t you push the straw up into a mattress?’ he suggested. ‘I’ll light a fire.’

Working mainly by feel, Clarissa scraped the straw together, trying not to imagine what might be nesting there. By the time she had finished, Alresford had kindled a blaze which he was feeding with more sticks. The flames threw a welcome glow
over the little hut. He glanced up at her.

‘It will warm up soon. You had best take off your wet jacket and lay it over the saddles to dry.’

‘What of your greatcoat?’

He took it off. ‘I shall spread it over the straw: the rain did not soak through, so it will serve. There, would you like to try your bed, my lady?’

She sat down carefully on the makeshift mattress. ‘Very comfortable – what about you?’

He continued to stack logs around the fire.

‘I’ll contrive.’

She shook her head.

‘You know very well there is nowhere else to sleep.’

‘There’s always the grass.’ He rose to his feet and leaned against the wall, gazing down at the smoky fire.

Even as he spoke. the rain began to drum heavily on the roof.

‘Impossible,’ said Clarissa. ‘There is plenty of straw, and your greatcoat is wide enough for the two of us.’

‘I think not.’

Clarissa stood up.

‘If you will not rest, then neither shall I!’

‘Don’t be absurd,’ he growled at her.

Clarissa turned away, smiling to herself. Outside the storm raged, occasional gusts of wind making the door rattle. She thought she should be frightened, or nervous, but she felt strangely calm. The hut was a self-contained little world, quite removed from reality. She reached out and took his hand, saying softly, ‘Come and lie down, sir. We cannot remain on our feet all night.’

For a brief moment he resisted, then with a sigh he threw himself down upon the makeshift bed. Clarissa sank down beside him, moving closer until her head was resting against his shoulder. She closed her eyes, remembering the feel of his arms about her. She ached for him to hold her again. She
snuggled
closer but he turned his back to her.

‘I’m cold,’ she murmured.

Silently he sat up, removed his jacket and tucked it around her.

‘And now what will you do?’ she asked, as he lay on his back, straight and still beside her.

‘I shall manage.’ To Clarissa it sounded as if it he was
speaking
through clenched teeth. ‘You need not move closer, madam.’

She ignored him and moved her head against his arm. He groaned and turned away. Clarissa tentatively put her hand on his arm.

‘It is so much warmer if we lie together, sir.’

‘Remove your arm, madam. You do not – you cannot
understand
.’

Clarissa ignored him. Her hand travelled down his arm until she could lace her fingers with his. Sighing, she rested her cheek against his shoulder. He was so reassuringly solid.

‘Don’t, Clarissa.’

The aching inside was too much to bear. A small sob escaped her.

‘Ah, don’t push me away!’

In one swift, violent movement he turned. She found herself pinned beneath him.

‘I – must – push you away!’ The words came out on a sigh. ‘Good God, don’t you know how dangerous this is?’

Clarissa blinked.

‘Dangerous?
This
is not dangerous – being chased across country by armed men is
dangerous
.’ She spoke lightly, but it was an effort. She exulted at his closeness, breathing in the intoxicating mix of spices and man, anticipating the salty taste of his skin beneath her lips. She reached up and pulled his face down to hers. He did not resist and the touch of his lips was even better than before. This was no tentative, exploratory touch, it was raw hunger. Her arms tightened about his neck as he kissed her and she responded, instinctively pushing her body against his.

‘No.’ He lifted his head, gently easing himself away from her. ‘I will not do this. I will not seduce you.’

She stared up at him, her breath coming in uneven gasps. Hot waves of remorse flooded through her as she realized how much she wanted him to take her in his arms again. She turned away, pressing her fist against her mouth.

‘I am sorry,’ she muttered. ‘I am to blame! I should never … what must you think of me!’

‘I think you are brave, and spirited, and adorable. If only—’ He sighed, then she heard him rise. ‘I think the rain has stopped. I am going outside.’

She lay rigid and tense as he left the hut, then strained her ears to listen to his footsteps whispering over the grass. Soon there was only silence and with a sob she turn her face against the rough cloth of his greatcoat and cried herself to sleep.

Clarissa awoke to a grey dawn and the sound of birdsong. She lay very still, trying to recapture her strange dream, but gradually she realized it had been no dream. Lord Alresford’s greatcoat was beneath her, smelling of damp wool and musty straw. Her fingers clutched at the superfine cloth thrown over her shoulders – the earl’s riding coat. A slight sound made her turn her head and she found the earl sitting on the edge of the straw, watching her. Her heart lurched at the sight of him, dressed only in his shirt, waistcoat and breeches.

She said, uncertainly, ‘My lord?’

He smiled, dispelling her unease and replacing it with an inexplicable conviction that all would be well.

‘I must get you back to town, if we are to avoid a scandal.’

‘And if I said I didn’t care?’

‘I would not listen, because I would care for you.’

‘Would you?’ she looked up at him, suddenly shy. ‘Would you, truly?’

‘Yes, truly.’ He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the mouth. ‘What made Dorothea Gaunt put you all in so much danger yesterday?’

Clarissa sighed and lay back, considering.

‘She was incensed, I think, by Captain Shirley’s arrogance, and she was more affected by Mr Sharp’s talk than she would admit.’

‘But there are other ways of helping to abolish the slave trade – better ways.’

‘I know, but she thought it would be a good idea to try out our….’ Clarissa hesitated, then decided she would trust him. ‘You see, we had already planned to hold up a coach.’

‘Indeed?’

‘Yes. If I tell you, will you promise it will go no further? It is a great secret, you see, and not really mine to tell, but I want to explain it to you.’

‘You may be assured of my secrecy.’

She sat up and handed him his coat.

‘We plan to hold up the Marquis of Ullenwood, to retrieve some letters that my stepmother, Lady Wyckenham, had
written
to him.’

‘And why is it so important to recover these letters?’

‘Because Lord Ullenwood is threatening to publish the letters if Mama-Nell will not run away with him. She believes that if he does so, it will ruin my brother William’s career: he wants to enter politics, you see.’

‘But does Lady Wyckenham have a
tendre
for Lord Ullenwood?’

‘No. I believe she fancied herself in love with him for a short time, but that was long ago.’

‘I thought her not indifferent to Sir Robert Ingleton.’

‘Have you seen it, too?’ She smiled up at him. ‘I am so glad, because Mama-Nell will not admit it, but I am convinced that she loves him, and he certainly loves her, do you not think?’

‘Undoubtedly. So why does she not ask Sir Robert to get her letters from the marquis?’

‘Because she thinks he will despise her for having been so foolish. So … we – her friends – came up with the plan to rob Lord Ullenwood.’

‘But how do you know the marquis will have the letters on him?’

‘Well, Mama-Nell has arranged to run away with the marquis, on condition that he gives her the letters as soon as they set off. We will be following and when she gets out of the coach to destroy the letters, we will ride up, pretending to be highwaymen, and … and carry her away. Are you laughing at me, sir? I assure you it is a very good plan.’

‘Slightly better than your last one, I admit, but still fraught with danger.’

‘But we must get the letters back! Mama-Nell can have no peace until they are destroyed, surely you see that.’

‘Yes, I do, but I am not convinced you are going about it the right way.’ He rose. ‘It is time we were moving.’

She allowed him to pull her to her feet. He turned to pick up her riding jacket.

‘I hope this is dry enough for you,’ She did not move, and he cocked an eyebrow at her frowning countenance. ‘What is it, my dear?’

‘Last night.’ She flushed, looking down at her clasped hands. ‘What I did – it was very wrong of me, I’m sorry.’

She risked looking up at him and the way he smiled at her sent her stomach spiralling through the floor.

‘Don’t be: I have wanted to make love to you since that first
day we met, in the woods.’

‘You have?’

He nodded. ‘That is why I was so angry that you were
unattended
. You were quite unaware of the danger you were in.’

‘And I thought you merely disapproving – you always look so severe.’

He reached out and caught her fingers with his free hand.

‘I know, ’tis my way, but I could change, if you would help me.’

‘How?’

‘You must teach me to laugh, Clarissa. Show me how to laugh at the world, as you do.’

‘Do you not think me too frivolous?’

He tossed aside her coat and pulled her into his arms.

‘I know there is a serious side to you, but you choose not to show it readily.’

‘With good reason, my lord.’

He stilled, aware of her changing mood.

‘How so? Tell me.’

‘In my first season in town, I thought I was in love.’ She did not look at him. ‘James Marlow and I were to be married, the date was set but before the announcement was made Papa had a stroke. It was very sudden, and Mama-Nell thought it would be better to take him back to Wyckenham Hall. He died there a week later. James came to the Hall, to support us, he said. However, two weeks after the funeral he left suddenly – eloped – with my best friend.’ She bit her lip. ‘They had met when she came to town to help me buy my wedding clothes, and since she lived close to Wyckenham Hall it was only natural that she should call upon us when we brought Papa home. I did not realize then why she came so often.’

‘My poor girl. He ran off with her, while you were in such distress?’

‘Oh they did not get very far. The carriage overturned.
J-James
broke his neck;
she
was unharmed, and went back to
her family in the country. It was hushed up, of course.’ She drew a breath and looked up at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears. ‘I doubt if anyone in town even knows the story.’

‘And … your smiles – they were to hide a broken heart?’

His tone was harsh. She reached up to stroke his cheek.

‘No, they were my armour to keep the world out. I did not want to risk being hurt again.’  

He leaned forward to kiss her, a light, butterfly touch. Her hands crept about his neck. He muttered into her hair: ‘You are not helping me to protect you, Clarissa.’ With a groan Alresford gently pushed her away. ‘I will not compromise you any more than I have done already. Here, put on your jacket, Clarissa. We must be on our way.’  

Recognizing from his voice that he would not be moved, she obeyed. Conflicting thoughts and ideas raged within her: at one moment her heart sang, but then her spirits would tumble and some vague disquiet would seep through her. She knew he was right, they must be moving, but something wild and decadent within her wanted him to throw her down on to the hard, uncomfortable straw and make love to her. The disquiet returned. Had she offended him, she wondered, by her forward behaviour? She had certainly not acted as a lady. The thought troubled her for a moment then the earl turned and smiled, and all her doubts fled away.

‘Let us see if we can find the horses.’  

Shrugging on his riding jacket he strode to the door, picking up the harness as he went. She could hear him calling to his horse and by the time she pinned on her hat and went outside, both horses were tethered to a nearby tree, waiting to be saddled.  

Half an hour later they had crossed the River Colne and were riding through Uxbridge. ‘Thank goodness there is no one to see us,’ murmured Clarissa, glancing around her. ‘With no glass
to help me, I have no idea how I look.’

‘Charming,’ grinned the earl, ‘if a little tousled. Once we have cleared the houses, I suggest we push on with all speed. The earlier we reach London the less people there will be to see us.’

‘By all means. I am ready for my breakfast.’

By the time they reached London the street vendors were in full cry, milk-maids with their pails, the knife-grinders,
pie-men
and flower-girls, all competing with each other to make most noise and rouse the gentry from their beds. Lord Alresford stopped when they reached a small market cross.

‘This is as far as we can go together. There is an inn around that corner: you will be able to hire a hackney carriage from there to take you home. Tell them your mare went lame and you had to abandon her. I will send her back to you later. Do you have enough money?’

She nodded, feeling for the purse in her pocket.

‘Good.’ He dismounted and went over to lift her down. ‘You must walk through the passage over there – it leads directly to the inn yard. Come, I’ll show you.’

He tethered the horses at the railing and walked with her across to a narrow alley. It was deserted and as he stepped inside he pulled Clarissa to him, pinning her against the wall. He kissed her once, roughly. Then he released her.

‘Go,’ he muttered. ‘I will watch you from here – you will be quite safe.’

Mutely she looked up at him, but there was no comfort in his stern, forbidding face. He scowled at her.

‘Go home, Clarissa.’

‘You – when will I see you?’

‘Tomorrow.’ The corners of his mouth lifted. ‘Your
stepmama
has invited me to her party. I will be there, you have my word.’

She nodded, then turned and hurried away through the narrow passage to the inn yard.