Chapter Three
He arrived at a quarter till midnight. The park was all but deserted, which was normal.
It was the only normal thing about his night.
Climbing out of the carriage, he waited by the edge of the bridge, prepared for anything.
Her words replayed in his mind. If she didn’t come, it wasn’t by choice.
What would he do? Go to her house and demand entrance?
Scale the side of the building and mount a rescue?
He didn’t know. He wasn’t unwilling to do so, not by any stretch of the imagination.
He just fervently hoped it would not come to that.
By nature, Fletcher was not a reckless or impulsive man. And yet, he was standing in the middle of a darkened park at midnight, waiting for a woman he hardly knew to meet him for an elopement. But it was necessary. It was the only way forward for him. And for her.
The very idea of such a vibrant and beautiful woman being subjected to the filth that was Pozenby left a bad taste in his mouth. That her parents were so cold and unfeeling as to push for such a match when she clearly did not want it—it was a travesty.
The sound of carriage wheels crunching over gravel alerted him to someone approaching.
Turning in the direction, he noted that the carriage wasn’t simply driving by.
It was slowing down, coming to a halt before him.
Bracing himself for any possibility, he waited.
But when the carriage door opened and a well-dressed and terribly familiar gentleman emerged from it, his confusion only heightened.
“Lynley,” he acknowledged as the viscount approached him.
“Quill. Or do you prefer Aldwyn?”
“Quill, honestly. Aldwyn is taking some getting used to… It cannot be coincidence that you of all people are here,” Fletcher noted.
“It isn’t. Get in the carriage, Quill. I’ll take you to her.”
Fletcher didn’t hesitate. He simply retrieved his valise from his own carriage and followed the viscount to his. He asked no questions until they were inside the carriage. “Is she hurt?”
“She is not unhurt,” Lynley replied somewhat cautiously. “Some bruises I think from climbing out the window and scaling the garden wall. Ideas she got from my wife, sadly. The whole situation has severely wounded her pride, but otherwise she is unharmed.”
“Thank heavens for that. Why would she go to you and not Mrs. Dove-Lyon?”
Lynley shrugged. “Perhaps she is hoping to keep her involvement with Bessie unknown to her family. Or perhaps she fears her family would track her there more readily. We are, on the surface of it all, unlikely allies for her, after all. And she had a right to expect quarter from me. I owe her. She has been done very poorly—by my family and inadvertently by me. I feel a responsibility to her… and that is why I feel compelled to tell you that I am well aware of your situation.”
“You are hardly one to judge,” Fletcher pointed out.
Lynley dipped his head. “Touché. But I am not here to judge you for that. Only to be certain that she will be treated well. Marrying for wealth, as long as one does so transparently, is not such a terrible thing… if it is undertaken in good faith. I think the world has played very unfairly with Miss Acres. She is due for a change in luck.”
“I am hardly that. Impoverished and hovering on the brink of social ruin… but I have only the best of intentions where Miss Acres is concerned. I mean for us to marry and I mean to be—if not the husband she deserves—then at the very least the next one I can manage. I daresay we will have a great deal of time to work that out between us. We will be social outcasts.”
Lynley shrugged. “There are worse things than being poor. There are worse things than being cast out of society. Pozenby tops the list. Just be kind to her. That is all I ask. I’ll aid the pair of you in whatever way I can if you can promise that.”
“That is an easy promise to make. I have nothing but admiration for Miss Acres. She’s a remarkable and resourceful young woman with a composure the queen herself would envy… But I need not tell you that. You were betrothed to her at one time, after all.”
Lynley was quiet for a moment. “The Miss Acres you have met is a far different creature than the one I knew. The things she has endured—at the hands of my cousin, at the hands of society, and now at the hands of her own father—have changed her. But for the better, I believe. Regardless, I’m committed to helping her achieve her goal of eloping with you.
In part because I owe her and in part because I owe a debt of gratitude to Mrs. Bessie Dove-Lyon. ”
It was the strangest thing. Everyone in society knew of Lynley’s unexpected love match that had resulted from his surprise marriage to Ellis Lockhart.
To say that they were an unconventional pairing was to put it mildly.
Lynley never put a foot wrong, and Ellis Lockhart had only ever put her feet wrong at every turn.
“I see. Felicitations, by the way. You are still newly wedded, after all.”
“Four months. And I can’t imagine my life without her. I can only hope you and Miss Acres will be so fortunate.”
Fletcher hoped the same, but he had doubts. Miss Acres was, indeed, very admirable and very lovely. But if he’d learned one thing in his life, it was that luck rarely tended to be on his side. It was not something he could count on, beyond being certain of its absence.
Her escape had not gone as planned. The very notion that she had to refer to leaving her parents’ home, the home that had always been her sanctuary, as an escape was completely alien to her.
And yet that was the only way to describe the events of the evening.
She’d climbed out of her window and down the trellis to the garden.
From there, she’d ducked into the trees and shrubs and climbed over the wall into the Wilsinghams’ garden and used their garden gate to flee into the mews.
From that point, she’d fled on foot as quickly as possible to the only people she believed might help her. The Viscount and Viscountess Lynley.
“I considered going to the Lyon’s Den,” she admitted to Ellis, as the other woman had insisted Daphne call her. “But then I didn’t want to lead my parents to her door and reveal what my ultimate plan is in eloping with Lord Aldwyn. They would never dream of looking here for me.”
“I think that was remarkably keen of you,” Ellis stated as she poured yet another cup of tea. “I cannot imagine how frightened you must have been. Your poor arms are so terribly bruised. And I know a thing or two about one’s father being a brute, Miss Acres.”
“Daphne. You must call me Daphne. I realize it will be quite the scandal if we are to be seen as fast friends, but I make it a point, Lady—Ellis—to never forget those who are kind to me. And you have been. Far kinder than anyone could ever dream.”
Ellis blushed. “We are friends. And I do not particularly care what anyone has to say about it. We have all been thrust into a situation that was not entirely of our own making and one that has impacted all of our lives very greatly. I daresay that having someone who understands that is vital… And you could have had me arrested for housebreaking that night I came to you, and you did not. That is a kindness I will not forget!”
Further conversation was forgotten as the door to the small drawing room opened and Viscount Lynley entered with Lord Aldwyn following behind him.
Relief swept through her. She hadn’t even vocalized her true fear—that he would change his mind.
She had to marry. She had to marry someone because that was the only way to avoid Pozenby or being thrown into the streets by her father.
“Our carriage is waiting for you,” Viscount Lynley said.
“It’s a clear night. If you leave now, you can be well underway before your destination is discovered.
And I’d caution you both that Gretna Green will be the first place they look.
There are other Scottish towns in which one can be married.
Lamberton or Coldstream Bridge might be a better option. ”
“When we get farther north, we will take the mail coach assuming space can be had. It will be much quicker,” Lord Aldwyn said. “That will determine our ultimate destination, I think. Whichever we can get to with the least amount of difficulty and chance of discovery.”
“Yes. I think that will be for the best,” Daphne agreed. “The sooner it can be done, the better.”
Ellis rose and pulled Daphne in for a short embrace. “Be careful and godspeed to you both.”
A servant appeared then with Daphne’s valise which was promptly taken out and stowed in the waiting carriage.
She followed suit with Lord Aldwyn behind her.
As he handed her up into the carriage, the scrapes on her arms from scaling the garden wall made her wince.
She looked an absolute mess with all her minor injuries and the stains and tears on her clothing.
Suddenly it all seemed too much. She sank down onto the banquette and covered her face with her hands.
“It will be all right.”
Those softly spoken words prompted her to look up. Lord Aldwyn was seated directly across from her, and she could see the compassion in his gaze. It gave her hope. “It will. I believe that. But first we must get away from London undetected.”
He reached for her then, taking her hand in his.
It was a comforting gesture, but she was acutely aware of the strength in his hand, of the warmth and the gentle way he held hers.
He was a stranger to her, really, and yet he’d shown her more kindness than her parents had in months.
The same could be said of Viscountess Lynley.
It made her heart ache, but it also offered hope.
Hope that perhaps in escaping her parents’ home, she might also escape their fate—one of becoming cold, hard-hearted, and unfeeling like every other member of the Acres family had been.