Page 10 of A Lyon for Luck
Daphne rose to her feet, somewhat unsteadily as the coach still listed treacherously. He reached out to steady her, helping her down. “The coachman will meet us back here tomorrow morning—with another conveyance, if need be—and we will continue on. It won’t be much of a delay,” he explained.
“That is a relief,” she replied. “But I fear any delays may be catastrophic.”
“You are beyond exhausted,” Fletcher pointed out, taking note of her pallor and the violet shadows beneath her eyes. “The rest this will provide is much needed. This journey has not been easy thus far and the farther north we go, the harsher the conditions will be.”
“You’re quite right.”
“If you wish to walk along that path—” he indicated a narrow strip of bare earth that wound between the trees “—I’ll follow shortly. I’ll help the coachman to heave this thing to the side of the road and get it out of the way a bit. Just stick to the path.”
“I’ll stay in sight. I’m not overly fond of the woods,” she admitted. “I’m very much a London girl born and bred. I find the countryside quite terrifying.”
“I’m a city dweller myself. You needn’t fear endless days of rustication. Just give me a moment and I’ll join you.”
Chapter Seven
Reginald was attemptingto appear calm as he waited. It was half past two and Pozenby was to arrive at any moment. His additional search efforts had proven equally futile. At first, he’d almost convinced himself that Daphne had simply run away and would be found with friends or possibly holed up somewhere with one of her blasted books. But as the morning and now afternoon had worn on and still no sign of her had been uncovered, he’d had to accept a terrible truth. She’d escaped entirely. But to where? And with whom? One thing he did know, his wife would make every moment a misery until those facts were uncovered.
It puzzled him. She had minimal funds and would not have been able to undertake such a thing entirely on her own. From what quarter had she been aided? Surely, if he could deduce that, he’d be able to track her down easily enough. But sixteen hours had passed. Sixteen hours had passed where he’d been deprived of sleep and sustenance all because she refused to come to heel.
There was a disturbance from the hall, and he knew precisely from whence it came.The suitor had arrived.
“What does this mean, Acres, that she’s gone?” Cecil Pozenbydemanded as he shoved the door open forcefully.
“It means, quite simply, that the girl fled into the night… or possibly the dawn. We haven’t pinpointed entirely when it was that she left,” Reginald replied, striving for an even tone.
Pozenby’s eyes narrowed. It was a remarkable feat really when one considered how beady they were to start. “Must I remind you, Acres, just how deeply in debt you are? Not only to me, but to others who will be much less understanding of your inability to pay than I am. Your daughter’s hand in marriage was my only incentive to cover those debts and spare you public humiliation, if not worse. After all, you do not have the protection of a title to keep you from the Fleet.”
“I am well aware,” Reginald replied. As neither Pozenby nor his wife had not failed to remind him of just that fact at every opportunity, it would have been impossible for him forget the ignoble fate which hung over his head. “My awareness does not change our current situation. The girl is gone and I’ve no notion where.”
“Where do girls always go when they run away? She’s found some other man to marry her, and they’ve set off for Gretna Green.”
It wasn’t a possibility he’d actually considered, but he could not fault the logic in it. The question remained, however, how? She’d not been in society at all.
“Surely not! Who would have her?” Reginald asked, appalled at the notion.
Pozenby sneered, “Whatever opportunist that crone at the Lyon’s Den has put before her. Bessie Dove-Lyon, as has been boasted, can get any girl a husband if she’s money enough to pay for one! Now, how long has she been gone?”
Reginald shrugged. “I can’t say for certain. Sometime in the wee hours of this morning, I presume.”
“They can’t have traveled very far by now, not in only a single day. My coach is outside. We will go after her.”
Reginald didn’t have the option to refuse though the prospect ofbeing trapped inside a small vehicle with Pozenby’s odiferous person for such a journey was only slightly more appealing than debtors’ prison. “We will never catch up to her if that is the case. They are hours ahead of us.”
“We don’t have to catch up to her before the wedding itself. Only before the consummation thereof. If so, the marriage can be voided and it will be as if nothing happened at all. Do not tarry, man.”
For the life of him, Reginald couldn’t fathom why the man would go to so much trouble. It wasn’t as if there was anything particularly noteworthy about Daphne. She was tolerable enough as young ladies went, but perhaps she favored her mother so greatly it was impossible for him to see why any man would want her. “Why? Why on earth do you want her so desperately?”
“She’s beautiful. I like beautiful things. And there’s an ample fortune to the man who gets her to the altar. Those are two very powerful inducements.”
Reluctantly, Reginald rose from his chair and followed Pozenby out to the waiting carriage. He hadn’t much feeling for his daughter one way or another. He had even less for his young son. At least the boy could be sent off to school and largely ignored. Daughters were a drain on a man’s purse and nothing more.
If he had any qualms about bartering his daughter to a man of Pozenby’s habitually poor hygiene and even more offensive proclivities, his debts would certainly deter any sentimentality on his part. Pozenby’s desire for her made the girl an asset when before she had only been a liability. Given the man’s attitude, it was little doubt that he’d chase her to the ends of the earth if it meant “winning,” which seemed to be the only concern Pozenby had. For himself, he’d go along, because to do otherwise would incur enmity when he very much needed Pozenby to be in a forgiving mood. If he didn’t at least make the appearance of good effort in getting her back, any chance of leniency when it came to his markers would be forfeit entirely. At theend of the day, that was really all Reginald cared about. How could he come out of the situation with the least damage incurred.
They reached thesmall hunting lodge just as a light rain began to fall. Even with that, it was frigid. She was shivering uncontrollably. Fletcher walked beside her, close enough that his large frame partially sheltered her from the wind and rain as he carried the small basket of food that Ellis’s cook had prepared for them. There wasn’t very much left of it. Some cider, bread, and cheese, but she supposed they’d be thankful enough for it as the evening wore on.
“We’ll get a fire going once we’re inside,” he assured her. “There won’t be much in the way of material comforts, but we can be warm at least.”
“Warm sounds delightful,” Daphne said. “Like a dream, in truth.”
