Читать книгу Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1 - Louise Allen, Christine Merrill - Страница 40

Katherine regarded the sleeping man opposite her in the carriage with mixed feelings. Part of her was relieved that, after stubbornly refusing to rest all the previous day, Nicholas was doing so now; part of her was frustrated that, having anticipated the long journey together with mixed trepidation and pleasure, she now had no opportunity to talk to him. Was it exhaustion, or an excellent defence against questions?

He sleeps like a cat, she brooded. Nicholas had no sooner sat down, made sure the two women were comfortable and exchanged a few words with John, than he had simply closed his eyes and fallen asleep. It did give her the chance to study him unobserved, for Jenny, agog at the adventure of a long journey, had twisted round to watch the passing scene from the window.

He was certainly an elegant sleeper; his lips were parted slightly and his breathing was heavy and regular, compared to Philip’s habitual slack-jawed snoring.

Katherine sighed inwardly and wondered where her brother was at that moment. Had he the sense to husband his resources and secure modest and respectable lodgings, or was he already seeking out whatever gambling and drinking dens the French coastal towns offered? Was he happy now there was no one to remind him of his obligations, no one to expect him to exercise self-control? Or was he lonely?

She blinked away a treacherous tear and resumed her study of her temporary husband. His colour was better, she decided, and he certainly looked very respectable now. His shopping trip the day before had produced not only a supply of shirts, but he had stopped at the barber and was sporting a positively fashionable Brutus cut.

So … she assessed the man in front of her. High cheekbones that gave him a slightly saturnine expression when he narrowed those dark eyes, a very decided chin, mobile and expressive lips and a straight nose. All very handsome, no doubt, although this perfection was disturbed somewhat by a scar that sliced across his right eyebrow, leaving a fine white line through the black hairs. He had been fortunate not to lose that eye.

Still, handsome looks were not so uncommon and doubtless she had seen men equally as good looking before now. Even some who combined looks with a fine physique. So why had none of them stirred any particular interest in her? Why did this one make her heart beat harder? And why, when he touched her or looked at her, did she feel that strange hollow ache inside?

Because you are not married to any of the others, the tart voice of common sense reminded her. You have not slept with any of them and none of them have kissed—

Nick’s eyes opened suddenly without any clue from his breathing that he was awake. Katherine found herself staring straight into them with an absolute conviction that her thoughts must be plainly written all over her face. The blush that swept over her seemed to reach from her crown to her toes, but she could not unlock her gaze from his.

‘I was just trying to decide whether you looked better,’ she said finally. ‘I think you do.’ Concern for his health was the only legitimate excuse for a young lady to stare so at a man. ‘You must be sleeping well.’

‘As you can see,’ Nicholas said with a smile. ‘I must apologise for being such poor company, but my time in the army taught me to sleep when I could.’

It was a statement, not an invitation to discuss his service as a trooper. Katherine bit back the string of questions she had on that topic and smiled brightly. ‘Very sensible. Jenny and I have been well entertained in watching the passing scene.’

‘Where are we?’ He leaned forward to look out of the window.

‘Stevenage,’ Jenny replied, having been the only one of the two young women who had actually been paying the slightest attention to the outside world.

‘I thought we should stop at Baldock, rest the horses and have some luncheon,’ Katherine suggested.

Nicholas nodded, settled himself more comfortably in his corner and slept again.

Four days later Katherine found herself sitting in exactly the same place and seething with suppressed indignation. The wretched man was purposely avoiding her, that she was certain of now. Not that it was not prudent to preserve a certain distance as they were soon to have their marriage annulled, but surely he could at least take the time to tell her about this unknown family she was about to be pitchforked into?

Nicholas had slept the first day and been politely distant and discreet at dinner time before he and John had departed for their bedchamber, leaving herself and Jenny to theirs.

The next day he had sat on the box with John and on the third he had taken the reins. Every evening had been as quiet as the one before and on every occasion Nicholas had been as uncommunicative. And again today the two men were up on the box sharing the driving as the Midlands of England slowly gave way to the unfamiliar northern counties.

Tonight they would lodge in York and Katherine was absolutely determined that she was going to achieve some communication with Nicholas if she had to lock herself in his bedroom to achieve it.

‘Are you all right, Miss Katherine?’ Jenny was sitting regarding her with some concern.

‘Yes, of course. Why do you ask?’

‘Because you’re scowling something dreadful,’ Jenny responded frankly. ‘You’ll end up with terrible lines on your forehead if you carry on so.’ She cocked her head on one side and waited patiently for her mistress to explain herself.

‘Well, I am a little concerned about things,’ Katherine began mildly enough. ‘And I would like to discuss them with Mr Lydgate—who appears to be going to some lengths to avoid talking to me.’ She felt her anger rising as she articulated what, up to then, she had only been brooding upon. ‘I have no idea what to expect when we reach his family home. He just whisked me away from London—all I know for certain is that he parted on very bad terms with his father …’

And you want to know all about his family and what his plans are,’ Jenny soothed. ‘Of course you do, Miss Katherine, ‘tis only natural.’ She fell silent, then suddenly remarked, ‘I believe I have a headache.’

‘There is some sal volatile in my reticule,’ Katherine offered. ‘Or we could bathe your temples with lavender water, if only I can recall where I packed it.’

‘No, thank you. I know what I need, fresh air.’ Jenny tugged the check string, and when the horses came to a halt jumped down without waiting for one of the men to open the door for her. ‘John,’ she called up, ‘I have a terrible headache, I think I would be much better if I could sit up on the box with you in the fresh air for a while. Would it be a terrible inconvenience for you to change places, sir?’

A few minutes later, in a flurry of skirts and with a wink to her mistress, Jenny was settled on the box and Nick was climbing into the carriage. ‘A decided young woman,’ he remarked.

‘Yes,’ Katherine agreed, uncertain whether that remark held an element of criticism. ‘She and John have both been wonderfully loyal to me since our situation became so bad. I have no idea how I would have managed without them, and half the time I was in arrears with their wages.’

‘Devoted servants are—’

There was a gunshot from outside, then another. The horses plunged to a halt, throwing Katherine across the coach to land in Nick’s arms. She scrambled back, only to find herself thrust firmly behind him on the seat when she tried to look out of the window.

‘What is it?’

‘Highwaymen—two, I think. Damnation, both pistols are on the box with John.’ There was shouting from outside, the sound of John’s voice raised in protest and another shot.

‘Jenny …’

‘Hopefully they’ll both have the sense to do as they are bid and won’t put up any resistance. Yes, they are both all right: they have just climbed down. Where’s the money?’

‘All over the place—some in my reticule, you have some, John the rest, I think. I never thought to hide it.’

Only minutes had passed since the first shot—it seemed like hours. ‘Well, we must just put a good face on it and hand it over,’ Nick began, then he grinned. ‘Perhaps not. Kat, take off your pelisse. Good, now, get rid of that fichu or whatever it is and tug down the front of your gown a little.’

‘What!’

‘No, more, like this.’ His fingers were warm on her skin. ‘Off with that bonnet, far too respectable; unpin your hair—no, I’ll do it. Good, now follow my lead.’

Katherine saw one of the highwaymen approaching the carriage door. The other had moved John and Jenny at gunpoint to the side of the road. She glanced down and was shocked at the amount of swelling bosom Nick’s cavalier treatment of her neckline had produced.

He threw open the door and jumped down before the man had a chance to reach it, then turned to swing Katherine down beside him, apparently unconcerned by the threatening long-nosed pistol being pointed at them.

‘Good day, mate.’ He grinned and Katherine realised with a shock that his voice had coarsened. ‘This is a turn up and no mistake, eh, Katy?’

‘What? Don’t you try no nonsense, just hand over the dibs.’ The man waved the pistol threateningly.

‘Now then, cullies.’ Nick raised his voice so it could be clearly heard by the second man. ‘This is no way to treat one of your own.’

The nearest man squinted at Nick. ‘What’yer mean? I don’t recognise you and I know all the lads on the bridle lay round here.’

‘Never heard of Black Jack Standon?’

Katherine stifled a gasp. Surely he couldn’t hope to get away with it?

‘Yeah, what of it? Everyone’s heard of him; these last few days since the news reached here no one’s talked of anything else in the taproom. Cut down from the gallows alive at Newgate, so they say. Don’t say why … Bloody hell!’

Nick dragged at his neck cloth and pulled open his shirt. The vicious ring around his neck had developed more colours since the hanging, and if it was now less swollen it was certainly no less dramatic.

‘You? You’re Black Jack? How did you get off, then?’

‘All due to my clever little Katy here.’ Nick put an arm around Katherine’s shoulders and pulled her to him.’ She found the clergyman who’d testified in court to my lifting his cash box and gave him a night to remember, didn’t you, sweetheart?’

Chucked under the chin, Katherine managed a smile she only hoped looked suitably saucy.

‘What, then he came over all soft hearted and told the court it was all a mistake?’ the taller man scoffed.

‘No.’ Nick grinned wickedly. ‘She told him she’d go into church and tell the entire congregation, including his wife and his patron all about it—right down to the birthmark on his left buttock. He couldn’t get in front of the magistrates fast enough after that.’

‘Gawd!’ The man regarded Katherine with awe mixed with an unsubtle appreciation of her well-displayed charms. ‘Left it a bit late, didn’t he?’

‘You could say so.’ Nick rubbed his throat cautiously. ‘Not an experience I would want to repeat.’

‘Too right.’ Both men stuffed their pistols in their waistbands and held out their hands to shake Nick’s. ‘Birthmark on the parson’s bum!’ The shorter one chortled. ‘Pleased to have met you and proud to shake you by the hand, Jack Standon. I’m Will Buckley, they call me Will the Fly and this here’s Long Harry Potts.’ He leered cheerfully at Katherine. ‘And if you want a change, sweetheart, you come asking for us at the White Horse.’

‘I might at that,’ she retorted, hoping her relief was not written plain across her face.

With a few more sallies at the unfortunate parson’s expense the two highwaymen mounted up and vanished into the scrubby woodland that fringed the road.

‘Jenny, John—are you all right?’ They both seemed safe enough, walking towards the coach with relieved smiles on their faces.

‘I’ve got a hole through my hat,’ John grumbled, wriggling a finger through the crown. ‘Still, a miss is as good as a mile. Bloody quick thinking, sir,’ he added. ‘I thought we were going to lose every farthing we’d got left.’

‘Oh, Nick!’ Katherine threw her arms round his neck and clung tightly. ‘You were wonderful.’ She had been far more frightened than she had realised while it was all happening, and certainly more so than when she had sought out Black Jack. Then nothing had mattered other than saving Nick; this time people she loved had been at risk for a few pounds.

With his arms full of warm, emotional and grateful young lady, Nick tightened his grip automatically. Something shot through him that blurred his vision and made the blood roar in his ears. It was like striking a spark on to tinder. He was scarcely aware of Jenny and John behind him climbing back on to the box in an undignified scramble to be tactful. All he was aware of was glorious curves pressed against him, the scent of femininity, the trembling of soft arms around his neck.

‘Hrrumph. Are you going to be getting into the carriage, sir?’

Startled, Nick realised exactly where he was. ‘Er, yes, John.’ He swept Kat into the coach, slammed the door and sank back on the battered squabs.

Kat settled herself opposite him, flushed and laughing, apparently with relief rather than any emotional lightning strike as a result of his embrace. Nick dragged air into his lungs and looked at her. Her hair was in disarray, tempting his fingers to rake through it, her face was charmingly pink with excitement and the swell of her breasts, exposed by the neckline he had so roughly pulled down, rose and fell with her laughter. His wife.