Never Doubt I Love (32 page)

She nodded, and returned her gaze to the water. “Yes. I see. And you were brought to Yerville Hall because they knew my brother planned to send that terrible paper to you for safe keeping. But—” She paused, looking at him again. “The Three Horse Inn? Was that meeting planned also?”

“Purest accident, I fancy. Do you recall how shocked Lady Buttershaw looked when she realized I was the infamous ‘doctor?' That was a genuine reaction. One of few. Come now. I'll hire a coach to take us to—”

“No,” she interrupted quietly.

Starting up, he frowned and sat down again. “What do you mean—no? Is it because you've not had time to pack your belongings? Never fear, we'll stop on the way to your aunt's house, and buy tooth powder and brushes and the little falderals you ladies need. If you prefer not to go there, I'll take you to the Palfreys. I'm sure my sister would be only too delighted to have your company, and she has the dearest baby girl you will like to— Now why do you shake your head? Have you a loathing for children?”

She smiled faintly but refused to be diverted. “You are very good, Peregrine. But it would not do, you know 'twould not. Assuredly, there would be the most dreadful uproar. You would be held to blame.” She raised her hand as he started to protest, and added, “But even if it could be done without a fuss, I must go back to Yerville Hall.”

“Great jumping—!” Fuming, he demanded, “Did you hear
nothing
I told you? The woman is demented—and ruthless! There are things—” He broke off, scowling.

She nodded. “I apprehend that you tried to spare my poor nerves, and that the horrid business is much worse than you have told me. But I will not run away.”

He gave a smothered exclamation and jerked his head at the heavens in frustration.

Zoe put a hand on his arm and went on earnestly, “Pray do not be vexed. I
must
be there to warn my brother away in the event he should try to find me, do you see?”

“Be dashed if I do!
I
will warn your brother! Have some sense, girl, these are not play-actors, but unscrupulous fanatics, dedicated to the destruction of our government. And infuriating as it may be at times, I dread to think what they plan to replace it with! As for my reputation—pish! I want you out of that house, I tell you!”

She looked at him worriedly, but again shook her head.

He took her by both hands. “Only see how you tremble, and your little hands are like ice. You're scared to death of Lady Buttershaw!”

“Yes. I am. Loud bullying people always frighten me. But then, I am very easily frightened. And—and not at all brave, like you.”

He smiled at her fondly. “You are very brave. But this is nothing for a lady to be involved in.”

The smile and the tender voice wrought havoc with her. She stood hurriedly, and argued, “I am already involved. No—please listen, Perry. I
live
in that house. I can help you
and
my brother. I can creep about at night and listen to—”

“Good God!
No!
” Standing also, he snarled furiously, “Miss Romantical Grainger is with us once more! Do you see yourself as some latter-day Jeanne d'Arc? Only look at you! A dainty, timid little flower, setting herself up in opposition to a fire-breathing dragon! Ridiculous! And what am I supposed to do while you engage in your heroical campaign? Lurk about outside and enjoy nervous palpitations? I thank you—no!”

‘A dainty, timid little flower?' Zoe Grainger? The same Zoe Grainger her step-mama had named a tree-climbing hoyden? That he should see her in such a light, and be so concerned for her safety, warmed her heart. She felt herself blushing with delight, and said shyly, “But I really will be of use to you all, Perry. Besides—”

He seized her arms and said with fierce intensity, “You will do as you are told, my girl, and go with me. Now! Either to your aunt or to my sister Farrar!”

His hands were bruising her arms, and her heart was beating wildly, but she argued, “I will not! By what right do you dare to order me about, Peregrine Cranford?”

His eyes scorched at her. He pulled her close against his chest. “By this right!” His head swooped down; his lips found and crushed hers.

It was Zoe's first real kiss. She cared not that she could scarcely breathe, that her ribs were cracking, that her heart threatened to beat its way from her body. Briefly submitting to a dizzying excitement, she was brought back to earth with a thump as Cranford jerked back and thrust her from him.

“Oh, Jupiter!” he gasped. “What have I done? I am so sorry! I think I must— I mean— I do apologize, ma'am. But—but—” White and aghast, he drew back his shoulders and said formally, “'Tis
de rigeur,
ma'am, that I now ask for your hand.”

Still dazed, she thought, ‘Poor man. He kissed me! In public! In broad daylight! He must think he has fairly trapped himself.' She could not command her voice, and turned away from him, both hands clasped to her heated cheeks, trying to stop trembling and to quiet the frenzied beating of her foolish heart.

A tugboat, nudging a frigate up the river, was hooting its horn repeatedly, and sailors crowding the rail of the frigate shouted and cheered. Guessing this dear proposal to be the cause of their amusement, she half-whispered, “Oh, how horrid!”

Those words seemed to slice through Cranford's heart. Anguished, he gazed at the back she presented to him. The downbent head, the soft curls clustering under her dainty cap, the trim little figure in its pretty pink gown …

Zoe blinked away tears. Did he suppose she wouldn't understand that his hot temper and dear kind heart had conspired to sweep him into that shockingly improper behavior? Did he really think she would demand a proposal of marriage? Her voice was a thread when she said, “As if I would accept such an offer!”

“No. Of course. How could I blame you, when I worded it so very unromantically?” And compounding the felony, he asked, “Would you accept me if I said that I love you?”

‘
Said
it,' thought Zoe, miserably. ‘Ah, but if only you
meant
it, my dearest dear!' And she gulped, “I w-wish you will not—not feel obliged to—go on, sir.”

He stood very still, very silent.

Had Zoe looked up and seen the expression in his eyes, so much would have been changed. But she did not look up, and after a moment that was hideous for both of them she managed to say in a voice that shook, “Please—take me back now.”

Cranford rallied. “No! Willy-nilly, you come with me, ma'am!”

Looking squarely at him then, she was dismayed by the grim line of his mouth, the hard glitter in his eyes, and she backed away. “Perry! You—you cannot force me!”

“We'll see that.”

“No!” She danced back a few more steps. “Have some sense, do! You cannot bundle me into some hired carriage in broad daylight!”

He paced forward, his chin jutting. “Florian and my coach are up on the road.”

She looked up the bank and saw the waiting carriage. “But—” she gasped, “but that would be an abduction! You cannot mean it! Perry, we are in the middle of Town!”

“True, and I'll own I do not relish the prospect. But if I must, I can always claim you are my wife and are gone demented.”

“No! Please! Be sensible! I have only to scream…”

“Yes, and every man within earshot would come running, I've no doubt.” Despite the deep ache of his hurt, he managed a smile, and said persuasively, “Zoe, you would hate it, you know you would. There would be a dreadful scene, and—”

Even as he spoke so earnestly, he had been moving closer to her, and now he sprang.

Not for nothing had she climbed and hiked and joined in her brother's sports. She uttered a little squeal and, despite her wide skirts, darted nimbly aside. Cranford was very fast, however, and caught her wrist in a grip of steel.

She whimpered, “Ah! You're hurting me!”

Instinctively, he relaxed his hold.

She wrenched free, ducked as he scowled and his hand shot out again, and then pushed with all her strength.

She suffered a rending pang as he staggered, tripped on the uneven bank and fell heavily. But with a stifled sob, and a renewed chorus of hoots from the river spurring her on, she gathered up her skirts and fled.

She caught a glimpse of Florian jumping from the box of the carriage and running down to help his master. People in carriages were staring in astonishment. Two apprentices halted, and drew back, gaping at her as she ran past. She could have wept with embarrassment and the fear that at any instant Peregrine's coach would overtake her, and she gave a relieved sob when she saw a vacant chair coming towards her.

The chairmen were Irish, and they eyed her askance when she waved them down. Some pedestrians watched her curiously, and the sidelong glances of her prospective bearers informed her that they were looking for her servant. She told them in a low and urgent voice to please hurry as she must get home before she was missed. This appeared to strike a responsive chord in both Hibernian hearts. Their eyes brightened; one made a great show of opening the door and ushering her inside, and the other took up his poles and called cheerfully, “Sure, and 'tis an affair o' the heart!”

She told them to turn up a side street, and only after several minutes passed with no sign of pursuit did she direct them to Yerville Hall. Her hopes to return as unobtrusively as possible were dashed when her bearers sang lustily all the way to Half Moon Street. She managed to attract their attention at that point, and was able to quiet them by calling to them that she did not wish to be caught entering the house. They all but tiptoed the rest of the way.

It was a horrible journey. She was distraught with the fear that Peregrine had again injured himself when he fell: heaven knows, she had never intended he should fall so heavily. She knew also that if she had been recognized by anyone driving by the river she would be quite ruined. The thought of what Lady Buttershaw would say when she heard of the incident made her feel sick with fear, and she began to imagine that the occupants of every passing carriage were staring at the shameless wanton who had shared that passionate and very public embrace.

As they drew nearer to Hyde Park, she struggled to compose herself. She tidied her hair, and considered the manner of her return. If she alighted, alone, and from a sedan chair, there would be no escaping an uproar. She tried to think of a way to avoid such a disaster. When they turned into the square she was surprised to see the front doors of Yerville Hall standing wide. Luckily, she had some cash in her reticule, and she paid off her chairmen before they reached the mansion. They whispered encouragement and smiled at her as fondly as if they'd been assisting at an elopement.

There was a great deal of noise coming from the entrance hall. In considerable apprehension Zoe crept up the steps. The air reeked of burnt feathers. A large lady lay on the floor in a swooning condition. Arbour was using a silver salver to waft fresh air from the open doors. Hackham was placing a cushion under the victim's head, and footmen and maids hovered about, while half a dozen ladies and gentlemen, morning callers, Zoe deduced, were offering loud and conflicting pieces of advice. Zoe was able to slip inside unnoticed just as the butler was so ill-advised as to make the sensible suggestion that an apothecary be sent for.

“I will not have
quacks
in the house,” roared Lady Buttershaw.

“But my dear ma'am,” protested an elderly and agitated dandy, “if the poor creature has suffered a seizure of the heart…”

Zoe said, “She more likely needs to have her stays loosed.”

Her words brought an immediate silence and the onlookers stared at her with shocked expressions.

“Vulgar!” decreed Lady Buttershaw. “But the gel may be in the right of it. Arbour! Refrain from flapping about in that stupid fashion. Help Hackham carry Mrs. Fryhampton into the scarlet saloon. You gentlemen must take your naughty eyes away and allow the ladies to deal with things. As they usually do,” she added in an undervoice.

Fortunately, Zoe's remedy proved efficacious, the embarrassed victim was conveyed to her coach, the guests were provided with a tasty morsel to gossip over, and Zoe's scandalously solitary return home had gone unnoticed.

Despite that piece of luck, she was close to tears, and felt crushed by her various worries. Hoping to be left to her own devices for the rest of the day, she was told to change her dress quickly and join Lady Julia and her friends for luncheon. It took all her resolution to appear cheerful, when she was sure her heart was breaking, but somehow she contrived not to disgrace herself, and to join in admiring the little watch that was now all put back together, and ticking steadily. When the leisurely meal ended, she was asked to play the harpsichord and sing some country airs for the gathering, and the afternoon was far spent before she could escape.

She went to her bedchamber at last, but had no sooner settled down for a good cry than Gorton came to tell her there were more guests expected for an early supper, and they were all to go on to a concert at the Convent Garden Theatre.

Only yesterday, the prospect of such a treat would have delighted Zoe, but now she would have given a great deal to be left alone with her misery.

Both their ladyships joined the group, which also included Lord and Lady Coombs, Mr. Smythe, Sir Gilbert Fowles, Lord Simmers, and the Honourable Purleigh Shale. Zoe was escorted by the latter gentleman, a fortunate circumstance, since he said very little and although apparently admiring her, seemed pleased when she did not maintain a flow of conversation. What they lacked in gregariousness was more than made up for by Lady Buttershaw, whose voice was never still and who maintained a constant flow of instruction regarding the theatre, its appointments, and its predecessors.