The Long Road to Love (4 page)

Angelica angrily tied the ribbon to her bonnet, leaving the veil thrown back. There was no point in trying to disguise herself now that she’d been found, and no amount of pleading would convince the coachman that she was anything other than what Lord Blackstone accused her of being-a flighty runaway. She sat in the earl’s curricle, knowing she must bide her time for the right opportunity to escape. She watched Lord Blackstone arguing with the stagecoach driver over the matter of her portmanteau. At last a coin changed hands; then the man grudgingly opened the boot to retrieve her bag.

Within a matter of minutes, the coachman took his position on the box. With a loud jingle of the harness, the driver called to his team, “Walk on and be lively ‘bout it, lads. We’re late.” The York stage rolled out of the yard filling Angelica with a sense of despair.

The earl strode toward the carriage, a satisfied smile on his handsome face. Angelica schooled her features into a haughty mask and stared straight ahead. She wouldn’t say another word to the man who was betraying her in this unfeeling manner.

Richard shoved the portmanteau under his seat, taking note of Angelica’s rigid posture and dark expression. Settling beside the irate miss, he took up the reins and ordered the ostler to stand clear. He was amazed at how much he disliked the idea of her being out of countenance with him, but felt he was doing the proper thing in returning her home. With a sidelong glance at her beautiful face, he realized he would enjoy the task of teasing her out of her vexation. Leisurely, he tooled out of the village.

“There is no need to look as if I were taking you to Tyburn tree, my dear.”

Silence greeted his teasing remark. When they were younger such a statement would have brought a smile to her lips.

“Ah, so I am now to be punished for my efforts by being treated to silence.” Richard chuckled. “I am truly amazed that women believe it is punishment to cease their inane chattering for an extended length of time.” He took a quick glance to see if he’d annoyed her sufficiently to induce her to speak. The muscles in her jaw clenched and unclenched, but still she failed to comment on his provoking remark. Treating her silence as a challenge, he was determined to bring her out of the doldrums before they reached London.

For the next hour or more, Richard kept up a steady flow of commonplaces about the weather, the countryside they drove through and people they passed on the road.

Still Angelica sat mutely staring straight ahead, refusing to respond to him.

At last tired of the sound of his own voice Richard challenged, “I see I shall have to resort to some drastic measure to get you to speak to me. Now, what would do the trick?”

He thought for several minutes then a smile tipped his mouth. “Perhaps a kiss on those pouting lips might elicit a response?”

Angelica gasped, gazing at him with a mixture of dismay and anger. Yet within her there was also a curiosity at how his lips would feel pressed to hers. Shocked at her wanton thoughts, she snapped, “You wouldn’t dare, my lord.”

“Hark, the lady again speaks.” The earl chuckled, then countered, “Of course I would dare, my dear. After all, did you not accuse me of being a libertine? The art of lovemaking is what we libertines excel in.”

Angelica’s heart hammered as she noted his gaze lingering on her mouth. She forced herself to look back to the road, wondering how the young man she knew could have changed so much and why the very thought of his kiss made her warm all over.

Almost as if he’d read her mind, the earl said, “You know I am still the same Richard you knew, Angel. Perhaps a bit older and a bit more jaded in the ways of the world, but deep inside is still the person who showed you how to fish, who dried your tears when you scraped your elbows and who taught you to ride my horse.”

Angelica looked curiously at the man beside her as he drove the carriage. He was devastatingly handsome in a russet brown coat and tan buckskins, his black beaver hat set at a rakish angle over his auburn hair. He was the epitome of the polished gentleman. Was it possible that all his good qualities were still there beneath that heartless sophisticated veneer? Despite his avowed disinterest, would he help her if he knew what Giles had planned? She decided to test his claim.

“If you are still my friend, I beg you, take me to York.”

“Because I am your friend, I’m taking you home. I’m surprised that you are fleeing from a confrontation with your stepbrother. You were never wont to be faint of heart before.”

“Nor am I now, but you have made it plain that you care not what Giles and I are at odds about.”

“I begin to think that I was hasty in my remarks. Do you wish to tell me what has you so determined to journey to York?”

With a sigh, Angelica said, “Giles has arranged for me to be wed.”

Richard felt a strange twist in his gut. He really shouldn’t have eaten in such a hurry earlier, he thought. So Angel was fleeing a marriage of convenience. While he had no desire to marry at present, he could understand one’s reluctance to becoming leg-shackled. But it was different for females, wasn’t it? Angelica was well past the age when young ladies wed. He knew girls just out of the schoolroom often held foolish notions about marriage, but he thought her beyond the age to be so missish about such matters.

When he responded his voice was heavy with sarcasm. “Ah, I see. You, no doubt, cherished youthful visions of a love match. Surely you are far past that naive nonsense.”

“I should have known I was wasting my breath telling a hardened rake my dilemma. Likely, you shall never experience love because you, sir, are a heartless wretch, squandering your life debauching London’s young females. How could I have expected any help from such a quarter?”

Angelica angrily turned as far to her left as the curricle would allow, knowing she’d been unconscionably rude, but she didn’t care. He was an unfeeling brute who deserved what he got.

Suddenly she was struck by an idea. If only she could make Richard sufficiently angry, he might actually put her down at the next inn.

The young lady’s bitter words touched a nerve deep inside Richard, causing him to snap, “I’ll have you know I have never debauched any young female.”

“Oh! Then when we next stop I shall put out a hue and cry to all within the sound of my voice to lock up their grandmothers, to protect them from unwanted advances since that is where your interest lies.” She watched his reaction hopefully.

At first Richard frowned; then his amber eyes began to twinkle with amusement. “Don’t think you can provoke me into doing something rash, my dear. No matter how sharp your tongue, I fully intend to keep a close eye on you until we reach Edenfield.”

Angelica sagged back against the leather seat in disappointment. Her thoughts rampaged from one idea to another on how best to escape from Richard and his mission to usher her back into Giles’s clutches. If making him angry didn’t work, perhaps her best chance was to lull him into believing she’d accept her fate, make him think she was willingly going back. They would have to stop soon for the night. If she played her part right, she might be in York before he knew she was gone. Squaring her shoulders, she began her ploy.

“Richard, I do apologize for my monstrous conduct. My quarrel with Giles has nothing to do with you. You are correct in that I must go back and face him.” Angelica’s heart hammered. She was certain the earl would know she was prevaricating.

He eyed her closely for several minutes; then a smile lit his face that made Angelica realize why women fell victim to his charms.

“Such a sudden change of heart, my dear. Well, I shall not question it, but I am delighted to see you are the same reasonable young lady I remembered. Now, tell me what you have been doing since we last spent a pleasant afternoon together.”

Feeling more confident that she would yet make it to Lady Longstreet, Angelica set out to convince Richard that she was reconciled to returning to Edenfield.

“Finch, we must send someone to Blackstone Abbey to see if they have any news of his lordship.” Having come down to the front hall in search of news, Harriet paced in front of the butler, nervously pulling at her handkerchief.

Her distraction was so great, she was unaware that her cap sat askew and she wore one black slipper and one brown.

“ ‘Tis nearly two full days since the earl left, and we have heard nothing.”

“I’m certain Lord Blackstone will bring Miss Angelica straight home, once he finds her, Miss Parks. There’s a great many coaches on the road, so no doubt it’s taking the gentleman a good deal of time to discover her.”

“More likely he found himself some flash mollisher to sate his lust,” Harriet muttered bitterly to herself. “I should never have asked the likes of him to go.”

Finch’s brows rose at the cant term for a straw damsel. He wondered where the spinster had come across such language. Despite knowing the remark wasn’t meant for his ears, the butler felt the need to defend his lordship.

“Not likely Lord Blackstone would be distracted from his mission by some common piece, ma’am.”

“Do you think so?” Harriet’s face held hope.

“Absolutely, miss. If he got diverted, and I’m not saying he did, you can be certain it was some high-flyer or prime article, not a low female.”

Harriet wailed, “Oh, Finch, you are . . .”

The sounds of a carriage drawing up at the door caused the spinster to halt her reprimand. Before the butler could react, the lady dashed to the large oak door and threw it open. The old man heard a loud groan, then the spinster collapsed in a heap.

“Finch!” Lord Giles Edenfield’s voice bellowed from outside. “What the devil is this foolish creature doing blocking the door? Get her out of the way!”

The butler rushed forward and lifted Miss Parks by the arms, pulling her limp form to a faded, blue satin sofa against the wall, on which he unceremoniously deposited her. He quickly returned to where the viscount and his guest stood. The visitor, removing his gloves, stared at the lump that was Harriet Parks.

“I say, Giles, didn’t know your cousin was a tippler,” Lord Paden commented in a bored voice. The gentleman was short and barrel-chested, dressed in a crimson coat with garnet pantaloons giving him the look of an overripe cherry.

“Finch, what is the meaning of this outrage? Has Harriet seen fit to invade my wine cellar?” Giles glared down at the old man. The viscount was taIl and lean with dark brown hair framing a hawk-like face that held a look of perpetual discontent. His one extravagance was his attire and while he was no dandy, he dressed in the first style of elegance.

“Ain’t cup-shot, my lord. Miss Parks fainted.” Finch glanced over his shoulder at the lady, very much wishing her to revive. He didn’t want to have to be the one to inform his master about the flight of Miss Angelica.

“Fainted! Harriet’s never been vaporish. What ails her?”

Giles handed his hat and gloves to the butler, then turned to the mirror above where Miss Parks lay to straighten his cravat, hardly sparing a glance for his unconscious cousin despite his question.

Finch silently hoped for a miracle to occur before he had to tell his lordship the truth. A moan from the direction of the sofa seemed an answer to his prayers. He turned to see Harriet Parks put her hand to her head, then shot up from the sofa as if she’d been fired from a cannon.

“G-Giles, we weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.” The spinster wavered on her feet as she stood staring at her cousin, the black of her drab gown making her face appear deadly white.

“We finished our business early. Erwin was anxious to see his future bride. Where is Angelica?”

Finch thought Miss Parks was about to swoon again, but at last she squeaked out the word, “Gone.”

The viscount frowned. “Gone where?”

Seeing the spinster’s face go ashen and her lips quiver, the butler took pity and blurted out, “Went to visit her godmother in York, sir.”

“Are you telling me that Angelica left Edenfield and neither of you attempted to stop her?” An icy cold gaze flicked from spinster to butler then back.

Harriet, at last realizing there was no way to avoid the bare facts, straightened her back even while she began to twist her lace handkerchief. “She never told anyone of her plans. We would certainly have prevented her leaving had we known. But never fear, I have asked your friend, Blackstone, to retrieve her. We were expecting them when you arrived.”

“Friend?” Edenfield questioned.

“Blackstone!” Lord Paden roared the word as if he were swearing. “Why the man is not to be trusted with gently bred females!”

Giles’s mind was racing even as he struggled to control his desire to throttle his foolish cousin. Blackstone was no friend of his, nor had he ever been. What could have given Harriet such an idea? Angelica, no doubt, but he wouldn’t allow his stepsister to jeopardize his chance at gaining entry into Paden’s business undertakings. If she married the baron, Giles knew he’d eventually be one of the wealthiest men in England. The very thought made him lick his lips in anticipation. But how to cover Harriet’s blunder of sending a rake after his tiresome stepsister? He glared at the homely spinster.

Harriet quaked as she took in the fury in the viscount’s brown eyes. “I-I thought you and the earl had grown up together.”

Lord Paden’s face had grown quite red. “Likely the chit is ruined if he’s with her. Not a fit wife now.”

Desperate, Giles tried to bluster his way past the baron’s agitation. “Balderdash! ‘Tis like Harriet said, we are all old friends. Why he quite thinks of her as his little sister.”

“I cannot think that such a hardened rake would be immune to your sister’s beauty over the course of the long journey back from York, no matter the former relationship.”

Giles felt certain the baron was correct, for Blackstone’s reputation was legend. “Then I say we go after them, for my stepsister’s own good. He is likely still chasing after her, what with all the coaches that leave London for York. We shall drive through the night and perchance reach her before Blackstone does.”

Paden seemed to ponder this for a few minutes. As visions of the beautiful Miss Markham passed through his mind, he decided he’d waited for her too long to give up now. “Very well, but first we must dine.” He was willing to miss his sleep, but not his supper.

Finch, Harriet and Giles issued a collective sigh of relief, all for different reasons. Finch because his master hadn’t flown into the boughs and the worst seemed to be over.

Harriet because Giles hadn’t ordered her from his home, and the viscount because he was certain the baron would marry Angelica before the week was out.