Miss Nothing (Unexpected Heirs)

Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

T heir carriage ride eastward toward the dawn—or what could be seen of the dawn—was nearly silent.

The farther they went the thicker the fog got. Mr. Keynsham’s driving skill was tested as he avoided collisions with hackneys and dray carts that loomed unexpectedly out of the mist.

She’d come all this way—and it had been for nothing. And she could never tell anyone what had happened. They would think that it had been improper.

She shuddered. Wilkes could never even suspect any of this. She’d have to ensure that he didn’t, or… well. He dressed as a gentleman now, but she’d heard whispers about his reputation for violence.

A near-miss with a fast-moving westbound carriage just as they passed through Temple Bar caused the horses to shy. She gave a cry of alarm.

“Damned fool,” Mr. Keynsham muttered. He brought the horses back to order and slowed to a walk, despite the relative emptiness of Fleet Street at this hour. The fog was now so thick that it was difficult to see more than the dim shapes of the tall buildings on either side of it.

But now that he’d spoken he seemed inclined to say more. “Miss Ryder. I do not know what your plan is. But it seems to me that if is so extreme that it will not even allow you to rest, it cannot be a wholly good one.”

She couldn’t explain that she must now do her best to get back before she was missed. She said nothing.

He tried again. “Miss Ryder”—

“Please do not. You cannot understand.”

“Well, of course I cannot understand. You have told me nothing! Why will you not allow me to help you?”

She shook her head wordlessly and turned her face away, to face the endless fog-shrouded buildings that lined the street. The sheer size of London ought to have been enough of a clue to her that she would fail. In fact, the moment that she’d climbed out of the stagecoach yesterday, she ought to have got straight back on.

Perhaps it had taken being slapped in the face to bring her back to her senses. But the way that she’d run through the streets with Mr. Keynsham… the way they’d jumped, laughing, into the cab… all that seemed as though it had happened long ago. This wasn’t some madcap adventure. She could never survive without her name, her home, and her familiar surroundings. And even with them, she was not at all Mr. Keynsham’s social equal.

She’d been a fool.

Mr. Keynsham turned the gig into another street. “I do not like to think of a young lady being in—well, whatever trouble you are in. But I—I admire your courage.”

She blinked. They climbed a slight rise. She saw the famous dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral looming above, almost lost in the mist. The clip clop of an unseen carriage passed them going the opposite direction. Mr. Keynsham admired her courage ? She hadn’t thought of herself as having courage.

He slowed the horses still further. For a moment she wondered what it would be like if they just kept driving. She stole a sideways look at him—at his handsome profile, his firm chin, and… the bruise now beginning to darken from red to purple on his face.

There was no reason for her to feel as though she belonged with him. Besides, his torn jacket and that bruise were her fault. The sort of young lady that a gentleman like Mr. Keynsham would consider a suitable match wouldn’t have required rescuing in the first place.

That sort of young lady lived in a house like his grandmother’s house. Her father had no dubious friends or dubious financial arrangements. In fact, her parents doted on her and safeguarded her from… well, men like Wilkes.

Mr. Keynsham turned into a busy inn yard. He brought the gig to a stop. “You—you need not stop. I require no help.”

He ignored this. His cousin’s tiger held the horses’ heads as he handed her down. “Let us be certain that the coaches are able to leave in this fog.”

But the coaches were still traveling, a porter told them. Her last hope of delay was gone. “Thank you for the loan of this money.” She couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. “I—I do not know how to send it back to you, however.”

“For God’s sake, Miss Ryder! I am in no need of it. I only wish that you would allow me to give you more.” He turned to the driver of the soon-to-leave southbound coach. “One inside fare to…”

“Far…”— she began. But though it would have been the easiest thing to say, the rest of the name of the town refused to form in her throat. She knew that she wasn’t thinking straight. She hadn’t slept all night. Her father was dead. But when Mr. Keynsham had said that she had courage, a new resolve had been born in her.

The coachman waited. “Well? Spit it out.” She could tell that he would have said something sharper, but for the fact that Mr. Keynsham was there.

Mr. Keynsham held up a commanding hand. “One moment, if you please.”

He steered her to the side of the inn yard. “Miss Ryder, I do not wish to be presumptuous, but are you quite certain that you are making the correct decision?”

His hand was warm on her elbow. The chaos of the inn yard seemed to fade. She met his eyes and couldn’t look away. Of course, she couldn’t stay here—no matter how Mr. Keynsham made her feel.

But because of him she’d got the letter back. He’d fought for her. He’d helped her. Thanks to him, she still had a chance. Maybe it was only a small chance—but it was still a chance.

And she couldn’t waste it.

“Here.” He was trying to press more money into her hand. “It would be a great comfort to me to know that if you were to meet with any difficulties, you would have the means to travel back in safety.”

She shook her head. “I cannot accept this. It is not proper.”

He stared at her in frustration. “Miss Ryder, I…” He broke off and shook his head. “Promise me that if you are ever in any trouble, you will write to me. Here is my direction.”

She stared down at the card, turning it over in her gloved fingers. “Thank you very much, but I am certain that I shall have no need of”—

“Keep it.” He folded her fingers over it.

Now he was holding her hand.

She glanced toward the northbound stagecoach. The passengers had begun to board it, impatient to leave, and the rested horses were stamping their hooves.

Still they didn’t let go of each other’s hands.

“Miss Ryder.”

“Thank you for—for everything. I shall never forget you.” She stepped closer, reached up and kissed the corner of his mouth.

He gathered her into his arms and held her close. For a moment he laid his cheek on the top of her head. She could hear his heartbeat. He’d done more than help her get her pocketbook back, and loan her money so that she could continue her journey.

He’d given her… hope . He’d helped her believe in herself enough to go on. Though she might never see him again, he’d changed her life. She would remember this embrace forever.

But it must end. She wrenched out of his arms and darted across the inn yard to the northbound coach. “One inside place to Lincoln,” she gasped, handing the coachman the coins.

A moment later he was climbing onto the box and taking the reins. The ostler closed the door. The horses surged forward. She tumbled into the only empty seat as the coach jerked into motion.

Mr. Keynsham shouted. “Miss Ryder!” But it was too late to answer, or even to catch a last glimpse of him. They were already passing under the archway that led to the street.

She stared fiercely out the window at the foggy streets, holding back tears by force of will. She would never see Mr. Keynsham again. She ought to know that perfectly well. So why couldn’t she accept it?

The other passengers shifted and argued and gossiped as she tried to reason with herself. But some part of her refused to listen to logic. Their strangely fateful meeting… the magical connection that she’d felt... those things couldn’t have meant nothing… could they?

She told herself that she was merely tired and foolish. The stagecoach passed the Angel Inn. The North Road began, and the fog thinned as they left London behind. But no matter how many miles of road passed beneath the horses’ hooves, her heart seemed to remain connected to his.

Her eyes closed and she slipped into an exhausted doze. Her last conscious thought was that somehow, she and Mr. Keynsham would find each other again.