Lord Runthorne's Dilemma: A Regency Romance (6 page)

Elizabeth
did not pretend to misunderstand him. “She is beautiful, talented and, let us not forget a great deal younger than I am. Oh,” she added raising her hands to her cheeks in pretend surprise, “and of course she is now betrothed to him, so I hardly think anything else matters.”

“
He loved you for a long time, Elizabeth. You hurt him deeply.”

Elizabeth
shook her head “No, Charles, he never loved me. It was brought home to me quite forcefully that he cared for nothing but my inheritance.”

“
You really believe that?”

Elizabeth
had not known that Charles could appear so forbidding.

“
Oh, yes,” she said. “If he had ever loved me, he would now be able to treat me with basic courtesy rather than insulting me. No, Charles, it was my money he loved and needed. In Miss Lacey he has everything, beauty, grace and, I have no doubt, a sparkling inheritance to match her eyes.”

She shrugged.
“Although, I understand that is no longer a necessity.” She turned away so that she would not have to see the compassion in Charles’ eyes.

“
You do him an injustice, Elizabeth,” Charles said, so softly she almost did not hear him. “Not only did he love you a great deal, anyone can see he still does. And you love him.”

Elizabeth
shrugged. “Whichever of us is correct, it is immaterial,” she said. “He is betrothed and he cannot break his word.”

She snapped her fan open and then closed it.
“And I do not love him. I am just overtired.”

She felt his arm slip around her shoulders in a brotherly hug.
“I know, Elizabeth, I understand. I wish there was something I could do to help.”

“
It is merely my pride that is hurt,” she said. Perhaps, if she said it often enough, it might become true.

“
Elizabeth,” Charles said, sounding weary, “you are a dear and lovely lady, but I sometimes despair of you.”

CHAPTER THREE

Runthorne sat up and thumped his pillow, turned it and tried to find a cool patch. He lay down again and closed his eyes.

And saw
Elizabeth’s face.

She had the same shocked expression that she had worn when he introduced Aurelia as his
betrothed. He groaned and rolled over.

Elizabeth’s
face followed him. He turned back on to his other side. But still she haunted him.

Runthorne
sighed and pushed back the covers and padded over to the window. He pulled back the curtains. It was very early and the sun was barely over the horizon. He glanced back at his bed. The sheets were twisted, unwelcoming. He turned back to the window. The sky was clear, promising to be another long, hot day.

Runthorne
gave in to the inevitable and rose with the sun.

A splash of
last night’s water revived him enough to enable him to dress without Manton’s assistance. It came to something, he thought, when a titled gentleman was up and about before his servant. Many would have no compunction about rousting a mere valet out of bed, but he did not see why Manton should suffer because his master had irrevocably ruined his own life.

He picked up
The Board of Agriculture’s treatise. He had tried to read it before bed but, for once it had failed to hold his attention. He opened it at random.
As the time of harvest is considerably indicative of the climate, I shall here observe that in 1807-

He
threw the treatise on the bed and picked up his coat. He had, without thinking, dressed for riding so Runthorne decided to find the stables. The large front doors were still barred and he did not attempt to open them. Instead he searched for, and found, the hidden door that led to the kitchens. It might be early but that was no reason to starve.

His footsteps sounded unnaturally loud on the uncarpeted stairs.
Here, at least, someone was busy at work. The rich scent of fresh bread filled the air and he followed his nose until he found the source.

A thin
-faced woman sat, enthroned in a large kitchen chair, whilst her minions bustled around her. She glared at him for a moment when he invaded her kingdom. Then she rose and curtsied.

“
My lord,” she said. Her voice was a spiky as her person but he smiled.

“
I wonder, Cook,” he said, “is there anything here to come between a man and his appetite?”

“This
is
a kitchen.”

Runthorne
tried again. “Of course it is. Perhaps I might have a slice of that wonderful bread I smell?”

The cook
sniffed but beckoned to one of her underlings who cut him a thick slice. “Butter?”

“
If you would be so kind.” The surlier the cook became, the pleasanter he was determined to be. He took the bread and took a large bite.

“
Delicious. Thank you,” he said.

A door in the corner of the kitchen was open to the outside and
Runthorne, giving the cook a pleasant smile, walked out of the kitchen.

The air was fresh, with just a hint of dew, and
he breathed deeply. It had been on a morning such as this that he had first seen Elizabeth.

He
pushed the thought away and strode across the cobbles to the stables.

Baines’ head appeared over one of the stable doors.

“
Good morning, my lord,” he said.

“
Good heavens, what are you doing here at this hour?”

Baines inclined his head a little.
“My current duties are light, my lord, so I have taken the opportunity to familiarise myself with our host’s stables.”

“
I see. And how do you find it?”

Baines
tapped his cheek, deep in thought. “It may be considered adequate,” he said, at last.

Runthorne smiled.
“Well, see what you can find for me, if you would.”

Baines nodded
. “There are a few beasts that might suit you,” he said, after some thought. Runthorne nodded. Baines did not like to admit that any stable held horses to rival his own.

“
Just do the best you can,” he said.

With a shrug that spoke eloquently of
Baines’s view of the beasts on offer, the groom turned back and soon led out a fine, high stepping mount. Runthorne swept his hand over the animal’s neck down onto its flank. The fine skin quivered under his hand, but the horse stood firm. A sensitive beast, he decided, but well trained.

“
I will take him.”

Baines
sniffed. “You’ve finer in your stable, my lord.”

“
That will do, Baines.”

“
My apologies, my lord,” Baines said. He saddled the horse without another word and Runthorne swung up onto the beast’s back.

He tightened the reins
and the horse walked forward, hooves clacking on the cobbles. It had a smooth, easy gait and responded well to his signals. Captain Maybourne kept well trained horses.

They were soon out past the formal gardens and
he gave the horse its head. He urged the animal faster as though he could outrun the ruin he had made of his life. To the right was a folly, perched on top of a low hill. It gleamed in the early sunlight. Runthorne turned the horse’s head in the other direction.

The wind of his passage made
him crouch low in the saddle, his face close to the animal’s neck. No gentleman should ride that way, but he did not care. Elizabeth had once shared his impatience with the conventions.

He closed his eyes briefly as the memories ambushed him again.

She had been mounted on a high spirited mare and had been galloping for the pure devilment of it through Hyde Park. It had been so early that the birds had barely been awake, let alone any member of the
ton
who would have clicked their tongues, outraged at such a breach of etiquette. But he had not been shocked. He had fallen in love. She had been so full of life and mischief. Elizabeth had brought joy wherever she went. And he had drunk in that joy.

Until the day she snatched it away.

There had been no explanation, no justification, not even an apology. She had just disappeared
and he had been frantic.

He had forced himself into her home, but she was gone and nobody, not even her obnoxious brother, would tell him where. Perhaps he had not known. H
owever, he had been happy enough to tell Runthorne that Elizabeth had been cast off for her behaviour.

Runthorne
loosed the reins, allowing the horse to slow then halt. The beast dipped its head and pulled at the sweet grass and he allowed it.

Why had she done it
? He did not believe she was happy, whatever she claimed. She seemed to have lost that delight in life that he had fallen in love with. Her aunt appeared to be kind to her, but for a lady as proud as Elizabeth, her loss of status must have been a huge blow. He wondered if she still rode. Surely they would not deny her that. Riding had been like life’s blood to her.

The sun had risen higher now, almost blinding him and
his sketchy breakfast seemed a long time ago. Runthorne turned his mount homeward. He did not know what made him turn his head. A sound, perhaps, or the sun still a little in his eyes? Whatever it was, he saw her and suddenly he was angry.

Elizabeth
, who had only ever ridden the most elegant of mares, was mounted on a grizzled cob that appeared as exciting as an old bed. It seemed so unkind. Without thinking, he set his heels, startling his mount into a gallop.

The cob was so stolid, it did not even shy away
at his precipitous arrival. Elizabeth eyed him with icy calm.

“
Good morning, my lord,” she said. “I trust you had a restful night.”

He
did not quite know what to say so said the first thing that came to his mind. “What is
that
?”

Elizabeth
held a small, brown haired child mounted before her. Her arms tightened around the little girl. She raised her chin, her eyes steady. There was a note of defiance in her voice. “This,” she said, “is Alice.”

***

Lord Runthorne raised his eyebrows.

“
I trust you do not object,” Elizabeth said.

“
How could I? It appears to be a perfectly acceptable name,” he said, “albeit a strange one for that poor excuse for a mount.” He smiled.

H
e was teasing her. The corner of her mouth twitched. “The horse is called Stuffy,” she said. She stroked her companion's hair. “This is Alice.”

“
Ah, I am corrected,” he said. “I am honoured to meet you, Miss Alice.” He bowed a little, his smile softening. Alice’s thumb travelled to her mouth and she buried her face into Elizabeth’s chest. She tightened her arm around the little girl.

“S
he is shy with strangers,” Elizabeth said.

“
A wise precaution,” he said. Now he frowned at Elizabeth and she twisted the reins in her fingers, jerking them a little. Stuffy, of course, did not react. “What I am more concerned about is why
you
,” the finger he pointed at her was mesmerising, “are sitting,” his finger flicked downwards, “on
that
.”

Elizabeth
stiffened, she hated feeling in the wrong, and Lord Runthorne had the despicable knack of doing just that. “I am riding this horse because I choose to,” she said.

“
Why?”

She shook her head.
“Because,” she said, “I must have some form of transport. We are too far from town for Alice to walk.”

He
sighed as though he doubted her intelligence. “I meant,” he said with the same deliberation she had used, “why are you riding that stuffy,” here a grin flashed across his face, “old cob, when I know for a fact that Captain Maybourne’s stable is full of fine horseflesh.” He frowned and Elizabeth felt surprisingly warmed by his concern. “Do they deny you the basics of your station?”

Elizabeth
stroked Alice’s hair, again, smoothing a strand that was tickling her chin. “You forget, my lord, my station is vastly different to what it was.” Then she shook her head.

“
Please do not think that I am denied anything, in the normal way of things, but you must understand that the guests have prior claim on the best in the stable. I assure you, I do not wish to put Miss Lacey’s nose out of joint,” she could not resist adding.

Lord
Runthorne opened his mouth, as though he was going to argue with her, then he turned his head away.

“
Quite so,” Elizabeth said.

“
I dislike seeing you mounted so poorly,” he said.

“
Stuffy is more than suitable for my current needs.” Elizabeth knew she spoke sharply, but his concern for her was reigniting emotions she had spent all night attempting to deny.

S
he wished he would go away.

It seemed, however, that
Lord Runthorne thought a change in conversation was sufficient. “So, you often give rides to local children?”

“
No.”

“
But you are today?”

“
Yes.”

“
I detect a mystery.”

“
There is no such thing.”

Alice began to whimper and even Stuffy twitch
ed. She soothed them both, trying to hold on to her temper. “If it is any concern of yours,” and she truly hoped that her tone indicated that it was not, “Alice had wandered too far from home and was tired. I am merely taking her back.” She was glaring now, but did not care.

“
It may surprise you, my lord, but children younger than Alice work very hard, and their families need the pennies they earn, so any moment’s delay in getting her home is taking food out of their mouths. As slow as he is, Stuffy still goes faster than Alice can walk. So, my lord, I trust that answers your important questions.” She paused for affect. “I hope you will delay us no longer, my lord?”

“
I assure you, Elizabeth, you have been free to leave since I arrived.”

Elizabeth
tightened her reins and nudged Stuffy’s side. Stuffy ignored her. Elizabeth kicked him a little harder. Still, the stubborn cob would not move. Her cheeks began to burn.

“
Allow me.” He leaned over and slapped Stuffy on the rump.

Stuffy
broke into an amble. With a horrible, superior smile on his face, Lord Runthorne allowed his stallion to match pace.

***

“There is no need for you to accompany us.”

Elizabeth
was facing forward, refusing to return his gaze, so Runthorne contented himself with admiring her profile. Her features were more defined now, he thought, as though everything superfluous had been burnt away, leaving behind her true essence.