XV #4
“Jeremy offered to fetch her back,” she admitted. “As it happened, he might well have been able to manage it.”
“Perhaps, although his charming cousin was none too cheerful about releasing Aurora. Unfortunately, I think she hasn’t the least notion of the danger she was in.”
“She said they promised not to harm her.”
“They are rogues, Nell. Would you have believed that felon at the clifftop could be trusted to keep his word?” Unable to answer in the affirmative, she held her tongue.
“Just so. And Jeremy’s cousin is just such another.
I’ve a good notion that my pistol carried more weight with him than Jeremy’s pleas would have done.
It will be saying a good deal if that lad gets out of this with a whole skin. ”
“Jeremy?”
“Yes, Jeremy. The others won’t take kindly to his having informed on them, you know. He seems to think he can trust his cousin, but that other lout, though he never actually saw the lad, might still be bright enough to figure out how Aurora came by her information.”
Nell swallowed carefully. “He certainly ought never to have discussed this business with her. I-I expect you will want to have a few words in private with her when we return, will you not?”
“I most certainly will not,” he muttered, and Nell could have sworn she heard that note of amusement in his voice again.
“Sir?”
“My dear girl, I doubt if anything I say now or a hundred years from now would ever convince that child that she has been in any danger. She will only accuse me of being fusty again. I sometimes think she has no common sense whatsoever. You, on the other hand—”
“I had to come, sir,” Nell cut in quickly. “I could not simply sit at home wondering if Jeremy had found you, wondering if you had found Rory. She is my responsibility, and I could not—”
“You could not trust anyone else to manage the thing,” he finished on a slightly bitter note. “Is that not it, Nell?”
She opened her mouth to deny it, but honesty intervened. “Perhaps there is some truth in what you say, sir. I have not had anyone else upon whom I might depend for some years now, you know.”
“You can trust me, Nell.”
The words were spoken low, but she heard them clearly enough, and they sent a small thrill of pleasure through her.
She rather thought that she could depend upon him if she ever needed to do so again.
And perhaps, now that it seemed it might be possible, after all, to end the absurd betrothal, her own affairs and Huntley’s might be in a way to being—But the pleasant thought ceased abruptly, for she remembered what had started everything moving tonight.
She glanced at Huntley. He must be told.
“My lord,” she began cautiously, “I should tell you that my mother received an urgent letter from Parkhurst tonight. My aunt is very ill and not expected to recover. When I left, Mama was writing the news to my sister.”
“Well, if Lady Agatha dies, I should be sorry, of course, but even if she should do so immediately, it would merely mean a year’s delay, and you will not deny that it might be a good idea for Aurora to wait a year or so before being wed.”
“My sister will not agree with you, sir,” Nell said, repressing sudden exasperation.
His damned honor! Why could he not at least suggest the possibility of arranging an end to the betrothal before everything ended in a tangle.
Surely, he could see as well as she could that Talcott was head over heels in love with Rory.
The man was not blind. And, after that afternoon on the Downs, Huntley surely had every reason to suspect Nell’s feelings, even as she was becoming more certain of his.
It was merely his wretched sense of honor constantly getting in the way.
She fought down her irritation, determined to make him understand their plight, for whatever good it might do.
“You have heard my mother on the subject of our family’s bad luck,” she said evenly, “and I can assure you Clarissa feels just as strongly as Mama does. She will be convinced that if Rory is not married at once, she will follow in my footsteps.”
“Your footsteps?”
“We had six deaths in the family in as many years, sir, or have you forgotten?” Nell gritted her teeth. Was the man being purposely dense? “Clarissa will drag Rory to the altar herself in order to avoid such a fate for her.”
“I doubt that such a thing could happen twice in the same family, Nell,” he responded with a slight smile.
“Your belief carries no weight in this case, my lord,” she retorted with some asperity. “You just wait until Clarissa and Crossways descend upon us, and see if I have not judged the matter correctly.”
His brows knitted, but he said nothing, and since he seemed to be so clearly disinclined to agree with her, Nell let the subject drop.
As usual, she would have to take matters into her own hands.
They maintained their easy pace in silence, and a few moments later, as she watched the couple riding ahead, the faintest glimmer of an idea began to stir.