The Resolute Runaway Read online

  That Joanna was head over heels in love with Nicholas was soon obvious. Equally apparent was that he felt a strong sense of responsibility for her. Unfortunately, marriage under these present circumstances would be almost certain disaster.

  * * * *

  “I would have thought,” Nicholas said impatiently, pacing back and forth in Darius’s study, “that you, at least, would understand why I have to make Joanna marry me.”

  “And why is that?” Darius asked.

  “Because of you and Elizabeth, of course. Because you were in the same situation.”

  “I offered for her, if that is what you are referring—”

  “Exactly!” Nicholas interrupted without letting him finish. “You did the honorable thing. Well, now I am in the same kind of situation, and it is my duty to marry Joanna.”

  “I disagree,” Darius said mildly. Nicholas stopped his pacing and glared at him, enough hostility in his expression to make a whole regiment of privates shake in their boots. Darius, however, was not a green recruit, nor was he easily intimidated. “To begin with, I did not force your sister to marry me. I proposed marriage, and it was her choice whether to accept or reject my offer. While I will not dispute that it is clearly your duty to offer for Joanna, I cannot agree that honor demands that you coerce her into accepting your offer.”

  “But she must agree. It is not as if she has any other options. I told you what I found out about her uncle, and her aunt, I suspect, is undoubtedly just as cruel in her own way.”

  “Then,” Darius said, rising to his feet and clapping his brother-in-law on the shoulder, “it is up to us to provide Joanna with other options, so that she may have the freedom to choose her own future.”

  * * * *

  “So you see, your grace, now Nicholas says we must be married at once, but I cannot bear to ruin his life.”

  Before the duchess could answer, there was a tap at the door, and the duke entered, followed closely by Nicholas, who looked even angrier than the last time Joanna had seen him. The duchess gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and Joanna felt as if some of the other woman’s courage were flowing into her through their conjoined hands.

  The duke placed a chair conveniently near to the chaise longue and seated himself calmly, but Nicholas stalked over to the window, and with hands clasped behind his ramrod-straight back, stared out at the gardens.

  “Well, my dear,” the duke said, smiling at his wife, “what have you to suggest?”

  “There is really only one thing to do,” the duchess replied, and Joanna’s heart sank at the thought of a lifetime of unending misery. “Since Miss Pettigrew does not wish to be forced into a marriage of convenience, the obvious answer is for her to stay here with us for the next few months. Then in the spring she can have her Season in London with Dorie.”

  Instead of rejecting such a preposterous scheme, the duke smiled and said, “Exactly the thing, my dear. I knew I could count on you to find the perfect solution.”

  “B-but...” Joanna was horrified at the duchess’s suggestion. “But I c-could not p-possibly accept such charity,” she finally managed to say.

  By the window Nicholas muttered something under his breath, but the duke and duchess both ignored him, focusing all their attention instead on Joanna, who huddled miserably in her place and wished once again that she were anywhere but here.

  “While I respect your scruples, it would not, in fact, be charity,” the duke replied calmly. “I would merely be paying back a debt of honor that I owe your brother.”

  “A debt? Surely you cannot have borrowed...” Joanna stopped, horrified at her own presumption in speaking so to a duke.

  “Your brother saved my life once in Spain,” the duke said smoothly, as if she had not interrupted him. “The debt I owe him is too great ever to be completely repaid, but you must allow me to do this one small thing in return.”

  He smiled at her, and Joanna almost forgot herself so much she started to smile back, before remembering he was a duke.

  “This is ridiculous,” Nicholas said, turning to face the three of them. “We have been traveling together alone with no chaperone for almost a week, and Joanna’s reputation is now in tatters. I have compromised her, and the only way to avoid a scandal is for her to marry me.”

  Joanna gasped, but the duchess gave her hand another squeeze, then said calmly. “Fortunately, I doubt that anyone who matters knows about your journey and your lack of a chaperone. We can only be grateful the servants here were otherwise occupied, so that even they are not yet aware of your arrival. We shall merely concoct a fictitious widow in whose company Joanna traveled here, and the matter is resolved without the slightest hint of scandal.”

  “A widow.” Nicholas snorted in disgust, but Joanna could see that his resolve was weakening.

  “To be sure, it might be wise for you to take yourself off for a while before you make your official appearance on the scene,” his sister suggested. “Some of the servants are clever enough that they might remark the unusual coincidence of two people traveling separately from Brussels, who contrive to arrive precisely at the same hour.”

  “Is that what you prefer, Joanna?” Nicholas glared at her.

  She nodded her head, then managed to squeak out a reply. “Yes.”

  “Very well.” Nicholas stalked over to the doorway, then turned back to face them. “I was planning to visit a friend near Oxford anyway, so I may not be back for several days. Expect me when you see me.”

  Then he was gone, taking Joanna’s heart with him.

  * * * *

  That night Elizabeth lay in bed with her head on her husband’s shoulder, her mind too filled with worries to allow her to sleep.

  “What is troubling you, my dear?” Darius asked, his hand coming up to stroke her hair.

  “You never told me about almost losing your life in Spain. I had thought you were no longer keeping secrets from me.”

  Laughter rumbled up from his chest. “Well, if you insist on knowing all the horrifying details of war, I shall be happy to oblige you. The occasion, if I remember correctly, occurred in the summer of 1810, when our supply trains had gone astray and we had had nothing to eat for five days except hardtack. Pettigrew managed to trap a pair of rabbits, and he ‘saved my life’ by sharing the resulting stew with me.”

  With a chuckle, Elizabeth snuggled up closer against him. “If you were a man of lesser appetites, I might think you were exaggerating the incident, but having become accustomed to the quantities you can devour at one meal, I agree we do indeed owe an immeasurable debt to the Pettigrews.”

  “I wish I could do something for all the widows and orphans who have been left destitute by this wretched war.”

  “You are already doing more than most landowners. You hire veterans of the peninsular campaign whenever you can do so, and you are planning to speak out in Parliament on the question of pension reform,” she said soothingly.

  “But will anyone in the government listen?” he asked, and she could not find an answer to that question. At least not an answer that would please either of them.

  * * * *

  Dorie waited impatiently for her cousin to stride the last few yards up the little hill behind Colthurst Hall where she had asked him to meet her. Nicholas was still several feet away when she said angrily, “You are the greatest beast imaginable.”

  His face darkened into a scowl. “What has Joanna been saying about me?”

  “Ha! Ha! I knew you had some connection with her. She has not said one word about you, because she has scarcely left her bed since she arrived. No, I am mad at you because you appeared three days ago quite unexpectedly and told me to fetch Darius but not to let anyone else know you were here.”

  “So?”

  “So?” she said, her eyes narrowing. “You dare to ask me so? In case it has slipped your mind, Nick, you also said you would explain everything later, do you recall? But then you vanished for three days without speaking to me again, and now you ask
me so? So I have been dying of curiosity for three days, but I, at least, have not failed you. I have not told anyone—not anyone at all—that you were here that day.”

  “You should have asked Elizabeth.”

  “Your sister has spread a Banbury tale around about some patently fictitious widow escorting Joanna home from Brussels. When I question Elizabeth about this widow, she just smiles serenely and changes the subject.”

  Nicholas gave her an enigmatic smile also, and Dorie immediately felt her temper rise another notch.

  “Smiling won’t work for you, Nick, because you have already promised to explain everything, so start talking!”

  “I am not sure I should. It might be better to let Joanna tell as much as she wishes you to know.”

  “I told you, she has done almost nothing but sleep the whole time she has been here. Hepden has scarcely been able to rouse her long enough to spoon broth into her mouth. Really, Nick, if you were taking care of her, I think you made a wretched job of it. The poor girl was on the point of collapse when she arrived.”

  Nicholas cursed under his breath. “I was only taking care of her on the journey back to England. Before that no one was taking care of her for weeks. In fact, she was working herself to the point of exhaustion every day helping take care of the wounded soldiers in Brussels so I don’t want you pestering her with a lot of questions when she does wake up.”

  “I have no intention of pestering her, and I am glad you brought her to us, because it will be quite fun to have a friend here my age, but everything you say only adds to my curiosity. Someone has to tell me the whole story, Nick, because I cannot bear to know part of a secret and yet not know the whole thing. You know curiosity is my one besetting sin.”

  Nicholas smiled at her, and this time it was a genuine smile, not a mask to hide behind. “I would agree that you have more curiosity than a cat, but that it is your one sin is still open to debate.”

  “Nick, ple-e-e-ase ...”

  “Very well, brat, but you might as well sit down and be comfortable if I am to spare you no detail.”

  “Good.” With blithe disregard for what Hepden would say about stains, Dorie sat down on the grass, then crossed her legs in a manner that would have scandalized her mother, had she been there to see it. “And when you are done telling me about Joanna, you can tell me every little detail about the battle of Waterloo.”

  Groaning, Nicholas lowered himself to the ground beside her. “You are a cheeky brat, and I pity the poor man who marries you.”

  “I do not intend ever to get married,” Dorie replied. “I have decided to wait until I am twenty-one and come into my inheritance, and then I am going to be the first woman to circumnavigate the world.”

  “I think that has already been done,” her cousin pointed out.

  Dorie shrugged. “If so, I am sure I can find something else to explore.”

  “Equally outrageous?”

  “Equally exciting,” Dorie corrected.

  * * * *

  Joanna stood in the center of the lovely bedroom she had been given. Clad in nothing but her shift, she felt horribly exposed and embarrassed, but she was under strict orders to stand up straight and not fidget.

  Miss Hepden, who for the last ten days had appeared in the guise of a ministering angel, had abruptly transformed herself into a totally unrecognizable person. She was presently subjecting Joanna to the most thorough scrutiny she had ever had to endure.

  Miss Hepden, Dorie had informed Joanna, was a dresser with unmatched qualifications. Not an abigail—Dorie had corrected her on that—but a dresser, whose ministrations could add immeasurable consequence to any lady she served, no matter what that lady’s rank.

  Joanna, lacking as she did the slightest consequence, was more than overawed. She felt downright guilty that such an august personage would deign to waste her time on such an insignificant nobody as herself, and reminding herself that Miss Hepden was a servant did nothing to help. The only way Joanna could stand still under the present eagle-eyed inspection was by remembering how kindly Miss Hepden had treated her earlier.

  “Well, the bones are good,” Miss Hepden finally pronounced. “They need only a little meat on them, which task can safely be left for Mrs. Mackey to deal with. The hair must be cropped, which will allow the natural curl to come out. As for colors, nothing will do but the clearest blues and reds—”

  “Oh, but I am in mourning,” Joanna blurted out.

  At once Dorie objected. “You cannot mean to wear black. Surely your brother would not have wished you to deck yourself out like an old crow.”

  “Black will be a wonderful color for you,” Miss Hepden said sternly, looking down her nose at Dorie as if daring the young girl to contradict her. But Dorie was not so foolish as to argue. She immediately pretended to have developed a fascination with the carpet under her feet.

  Turning back to Joanna, Miss Hepden continued speaking as if the interruption had not occurred. “Very few people can wear black successfully. You are one of the fortunate ones, however. Black will make your skin look like porcelain. But you must never wear green or gold or brown or orange. Never.”

  Dorie bounced over to the nearly empty wardrobe and inspected the few dresses Joanna had hanging there. “Oh, dear, these are all the wrong colors.”

  “Dispose of them immediately,” Hepden ordered. “Now that Miss Pettigrew has been officially placed in my charge, she is not to leave this room again until she is properly attired.”

  Joanna was not the least bit sorry to part with the dresses, which were little more than rags. But then, to her dismay, she realized Dorie was also removing the beautiful cloak Nicholas had bought for her in Brussels. “No, oh, no, you cannot take my cloak away.”

  Disregarding her orders to stand still, Joanna darted across the room and snatched the lime-green garment out of the other girl’s arms.

  “But the color is all wrong for you,” Dorie protested. “Surely you are not thinking of disregarding Hepden’s advice?”

  “Th-then I shan’t wear it, but I shall keep it forever. Never will I part with it. There are sentimental reasons,” Joanna added when both Hepden and Dorie stared at her as if she had been out in the sun too long and addled her brains. “It was a present.”

  The other two exchanged looks, then smiled at her and told her of course she must keep it in that case. She suspected they were now under the erroneous impression that it had been a present from her brother, but she said nothing to correct their mistake.

  The cloak was all she had of Nicholas, who had been deliberately avoiding her company for the last week and who had departed for his own estate in Somerset just that morning.

  Tears came to her eyes at the thought of not seeing him again for months—indeed, perhaps never again—and she hugged the cloak to herself in abject misery. She was only vaguely aware of the other two women tiptoeing out of the room, leaving her to grieve in private.

  Chapter 7

  Turning in at the gates, Nicholas pulled his team to a halt. Beside him, Richards, his groom, was suitably impressed.

  “Blimey, so that’s where our own Miss Elizabeth lives. Done us right proud, she has.”

  Nicholas had to agree Colthurst Hall was an imposing sight, although no country residence could be expected to show to best advantage at this time of year. Four months earlier the sun had been bright, the breeze balmy, and the grounds had been green and lush. In August it had been only his own thoughts that were desolate.

  Urging his horses forward once again, Nicholas realized with mild surprise that his memories of battles and dying friends had faded enough that even though the landscape beside the drive leading up to the house was bleak, the sky leaden, the trees and shrubs brown and sere, and the wind as sharp as any butcher’s knife, he himself was feeling quite cheerful at the prospect of Christmas with his sister’s family.

  The harvest had been good at Oakhaven, but more important, it had been most beneficial for him to work in the fields
like a common farm laborer. The hard physical effort had exhausted his body and the undemanding companionship of the other workers had brought him a peace of mind that had allowed him to sleep undisturbed through the night for the first time since Quatre Bras.

  In a word, he was not only ready but also eager to be with his family once again—with Elizabeth and Darius, little Louisa and the twins, even his cousin Dorie, who, according to reports, remained ever the hoyden. Elizabeth had written that Joanna was proving to have a calming influence on Dorie, and that to everyone’s relief, Dorie had not been able to induce Joanna into actively participating in any of her mad starts.

  Which did not surprise Nicholas in the slightest. Joanna do something rash? Such a timid little mouse as she was, the mere thought of her engaged in any kind of outrageous behavior was so ludicrous, it brought a smile to his lips, and he realized he was quite looking forward to seeing her again also.

  In the last few months he had scarcely spared her a thought, once his sister had reassured him that Miss Pettigrew was thoroughly recovered from her ordeal in Belgium. He must be sure, however, to single Joanna out for some special attention during the holidays, so she would not feel neglected. After all, had he not promised her he would be like a brother?

  Coming to a stop in front of the house, Nicholas flipped the reins to Richards, leapt down from his carriage, and went bounding up the broad, low steps. This time Kelso was properly on hand to open the door for him.

  “Ah, good afternoon, Captain Goldsborough.”

  “Not captain anymore, Kelso, I am once again just plain mister. So where has my sister got herself off to? The nursery as usual, I suppose.”

  “No, today she is entertaining some of the neighbors in the blue salon.”

  By the time the butler finished this pronouncement, Nicholas was already halfway up the stairs. “You needn’t bother to announce me, Kelso. I’ll just pop in on her for a few minutes before I dress for dinner.”