The LadyShip (23 page)

“But this is too absurd, love!” Elinor exclaimed. “We had
thought you well ahead of us—did you founder as well?”

Ned grinned. “In a manner of speaking, yes—but we
can’t talk now. I’m sorry we took so long to come after
you, but I have the most astonishing things to tell you—no,
they must wait until we get you to the Blue Swan.”

This provocative statement naturally left Elinor eager to
hear the rest, but not another word would Ned speak on
that head. Then Lord Vernon added to the mystery by say
ing, as he helped her into the sleigh, his familiar warm brown eyes looking at her with a new expression, “Miss
Bennett, you have deceived me! Not only was that Banbury
tale about your mother complete nonsense—but you did
not tell me you and your brother were twins!’

Elinor laughed. “Really, my lord, between you and Ned, I am utterly baffled! Can you not explain what this is all
about?”

“Later, m’dear!” Ned said, jumping up beside her. There
was a slight delay when Elinor remembered Boney, and
Allingham went back for him. Then he and Ned seated themselves on either side of Elinor on the long seat facing
forward and they spread a large lap robe over all three of
them, as well as Boney. Lord Vernon climbed onto the perch and turned the horses north, and they were quickly away, gliding silently
and swiftly over the snow.

Elinor turned her head for one last look at Her Ladyship.
She, too, would be rescued, Elinor knew, but she wanted
to preserve a picture in her mind of how it had been there,
for a brief time out of the ordinary world. She did not want
to forget.

She turned back and caught Allingham looking at her. There was understanding in his smile.

The change from
the comfortable companionship of the stranded coach to the brisk night air and a silvery ride over
a snowy road to the Blue Swan, and then the further shock of entering a warm but surprisingly busy inn, gave Elinor the sensation of moving through a dream, in which places
and events changed abruptly and without reason. Then,
once inside the inn, events took on speed and came rushing
at her so quickly as to put her mind quite in a whirl.

Having descended from the sleigh at the front door—
where Lord Vernon let Elinor, Ned, and Mr Allingham down before driving around to the stables—the party en
tered the Blue Swan, shook off their outer garments, and
laughingly brushed snow out of their hair and faces. There was no hall to the inn, only the flight of stairs leading directly to the bedrooms above and, near this, the passage to
the parlour into which Ned was about to lead them when Mrs
Judson came bustling forward to greet them.

In spite of the
very early hour, she appeared bright-eyed and eager to
serve them, and took an immediate proprietary interest in
Elinor—if not in Mr Allingham, whose part in the events of
the day was unclear to her but who looked to her to be a
decided come-down from her darling Mr Ned. He was not
even the equal of the charming Lord Vernon, who on his earlier arrival had been no end of apologetic for his un
timely intrusion and had amply made up for the inconve
nience by ordering up one of her best bottles of brandy—
with which he had then retired into the parlour with Mr
Bennett, leaving her (he said) to return to her beauty sleep.

However, Mr Allingham had not been in her house above
two minutes before something occurred to make Mrs Judson—had she not already been hopping about on her slip
pered feet—sit up and take notice. She had politely relieved
him of his greatcoat, and was jocularly remarking to Ned
that the old cloak he wore must have seen many another
campaign, when a noise on the stairs made them all turn in
that direction.

“Marcus!” cried a distraught feminine voice. “You, here!
Oh, I might have guessed—you have come to rescue me!”

With that, Clarissa ran across the room and hurled herself
against Mr Allingham’s chest, sobbing incoherently some
thing about having been locked in her room by that odious
Ned and having prayed for him to come and take her away.
Allingham, caught off-guard, instinctively put his arms
around Clarissa, but looked towards Elinor as if in appeal.
Miss Bennett, however, looked away, and anything she
might have said was forestalled by Ned’s exasperated, “Oh,
good God, Clarissa, what nonsense is this?”

“You locked me in!” Clarissa flung at him accusingly,
and tightened her grip on Allingham’s neck, despite his ef
forts to loosen it. Elinor could not help noticing how lovely
Clarissa was—her green eyes bright with unshed tears, her
golden locks disordered—even in such distress. Neither
Lord Vernon nor Mr Allingham having told her of Miss
Dudley’s penchant for play-acting, she could only think
that both of them had misled her about—or worse, misun
derstood—the depth of Clarissa’s feelings for her be
trothed. She saw at once how hopeless it would be for her
to rival this exquisite, doll-like creature’s claim on Marcus Allingham, for how could any man resist such loveliness?
Even Ned had apparently let his infatuation rule his good
sense. She felt sorry for him, but could not help but be glad
that he had been thwarted in his goal of marrying Clarissa
over the anvil at Gretna Green.

“I did no such thing!” Ned said, protesting Clarissa’s ac
cusation. “Don’t play me off any more of your tricks, Cla
rissa. I’m in no mood to listen to them.”

This struck Elinor as far from a loverlike speech, and
eased her mind somewhat about her brother’s feelings. But
it could only deepen her mystification about Mr Allingham
—for he was looking distinctly more harried than grati
fied at Clarissa’s open display of affection.

“It was me locked the young lady in her room,” Mrs Jud
son put in just then. “I beg your pardon, I’m sure, Mr Ned,
but she give me such a wild tale about your abducting her—
which o’ course I didn’t believe—but then she told it to
Alice, who did, and was about to run away with her in the
sleigh when I stopped them. If ever I heard such non
sense!”

Ned and Mr Allingham exchanged a look and read in each
other’s faces the same exasperated male incomprehension
of female wiles. Ned grinned, Allingham succumbed to in
voluntary laughter, and Clarissa, abruptly loosening her
hold on Allingham, stamped her foot, accused him of being
even more heartless than Ned, and burst into tears. Further to his sister’s bewilderment, Ned then gathered Clarissa in
his strong arms and, disregarding her tearful resistance,
carried her off with him towards the parlour.

“Well!” said Mrs Judson, addressing Allingham in a warm
tone which apologised for her earlier slight. “I’m sure I
don’t know how she got out of her room—unless that
ninny Alice unlocked it again—but I do beg your pardon,
sir, if I done wrong by it in the first place. I expect Mr Ned’ll
set all to rights in a trice, though—he won’t stand no nonsense from any wife of his, pretty though she be. I’ll take
you up to your rooms now, sir and ma’am, if you don’t ob
ject to their not being proper made up, for we weren’t ex
pecting any more visitors this night, that’s certain! Will you
be wantin’ a man to shave you in the morning, sir?”

Mr Allingham assured Mrs Judson that he required noth
ing from her doubtless over-worked staff but to see that
Miss Bennett was properly looked after. Giving that lady his
hand, he smiled ruefully at her and said, “Good night, Miss
Bennett. I trust you will sleep well in spite of all that has
happened. I assure you, everything will look brighter in the
morning—although I should perhaps say the afternoon,
since we appear to have adventured the night away.”

Elinor attempted with little success to match his smile,
and with even less to meet his eyes, and found herself not nearly so confident as he about the outcome of the night’s
events. She shook his hand perfunctorily, murmured a
thank-you and a brief good-night, and allowed herself to be
shepherded away by Mrs Judson.

Her hostess, attributing
Elinor’s silence to simple fatigue, kept her awake long
enough to reach her bedroom by chattering all the way to it
about the wonderful fortune that had befallen her humble establishment, and didn’t Miss Bennett agree it had been
quite a day? Miss Bennett fully concurred that it had been one to remember, but to save herself further effusions, she
sent Mrs Judson off to the kitchen to see if there were any
coals left for a warming pan for his lordship and Mr Allingham
, and had she seen to it that there was a proper fire in
each of their rooms and that their clothing and boots were being looked after?  Oh, and perhaps her cook would look after Boney.

Mrs Judson bustled away to see to these essential details,
and by the time she had returned, Elinor had seen efficiently to her own needs, and a small blaze had begun to
take the chill off her room. Mrs Judson was struck with ad
miration at the speed with which Miss Bennett had made
her room tenantable, until she remembered that she and
this fine young lady were, so to speak, sisters under the
skin. Elinor saw that she was about to launch a fresh flood
of confidences, and forestalled her with as sympathetic a smile as she could muster.

“I am quite accustomed to looking after myself, ma’am—
pray do not concern yourself. If I might just have that warming pan—thank you. Perhaps you had best see that
Miss Dudley is put to bed. I collect she has not slept, since
she was wearing her travelling costume?”

“Oh, bless you, miss—she’s all right! Her Ned’ll take care of her. Such a pretty young lady—it’s a sin, and no less, that
such a lovely couple must be having to fly to the border—
though why they must needs do it, I’m sure I don’t
understand—discountin’ the young lady’s tarradiddles,
that is.”

Elinor collected from this speech that Ned had let out the
truth—or some of it—to Mrs Judson, and she assured her
that some more seemly arrangement would be made for the
runaways. Perceiving also that Ned must have abandoned his story of being Clarissa’s medical man, she did not ask
any further after the “invalid.” This left her grateful to take
the only course then remaining to her, after gently propel
ling Mrs Judson out the door, and that was to fall into her own bed and pull the warm covers over her. She had little
expectation of achieving more than a few hours’ sleep, but her long day took its natural effect; an exhausting conflict
of emotions made her brain spin when she set her head to
the pillow, but these soon dissolved into a blissful uncon
sciousness.

She woke to a pale promise of sunshine from outside her
window, the smell of coffee and bacon drifting up from
belowstairs, and the cheerful greeting of the chamber
maid, who informed her that the snow had drifted to four
feet high on the front step.

Elinor got up to verify this by looking out of the dimity-
curtained window at the scene below. The snow had in
deed reached impressive heights against the timbered sides
of the old inn. The skies had begun to clear, but it could not
have been very long since the snow had ceased to fall, be
cause no fresh tracks yet disturbed the smooth white covering on the road—with the exception of a small area directly
beneath the Swan’s detached signpost. There, Lord Vernon
Dudley and Mr Marcus Allingham were engaged in a ridicu
lously boyish but irresistibly entertaining snowball battle.
They were in little danger of being run down by passing ve
hicles, for none would get through until the way had been
cleared. Elinor was about to raise her sash a little to shout
encouragement at the combatants, when a knock on her door turned her attention in that direction.

Ned put his
head in and gave her a bright good-morning. He was not
yet fully dressed, so after Elinor kissed his unshaven cheek
she told him, sisterlike, to go back to his room before he caught his death of cold.

Ned laughed. “Have breakfast with me, then. I must tell
you what’s happened.”