Never Trust a Rebel(8)

They had finished their meal when Hoyle came in to say that Mrs Matthews was awake and asking for her niece. Elyse went off immediately, following Hoyle through corridors littered with trunks and cases to her aunt’s bedchamber. Aunt Matthews was propped up in the bed, one arm encased in plaster and resting on a mound of pillows. She was looking pale but composed in a nightgown and cap of frothy pink lace and when Elyse came in she held out her good hand, ignoring the maid who was fussing around her.

‘Oh, my dear, what a silly thing for me to do, I am so sorry.’

‘No, no, Aunt, you must not blame yourself. I am only relieved it is nothing worse. Dr Carstairs told me it would be a simple matter to set the arm and then you will be up and about again in no time.’

‘Yes, but not by tomorrow morning. I will not be able to get up for days.’

Disregarding Hoyle’s tut of disapproval, Elyse perched herself on the edge of the bed and took the proffered hand. ‘You are not to worry about that. You can follow on as soon as you are well enough to travel.’

‘You plan to go without me?’

‘I must. Mr Bastion thinks the viscount would insist upon it.’

‘Well, there is no doubt that these great men are used to having their own way,’ agreed Aunt Matthews, sighing. ‘And you have been waiting so long I am sure you must be eager to see your beau again.’

‘I am of course.’ Elyse replied quickly, although now the moment was approaching she felt more than a little apprehensive. ‘But I would rather wait until you could come with me, Aunt.’

A knock made her turn and she saw Andrew Bastion standing in the doorway.

‘I beg you will forgive the intrusion, ma’am?’

‘Yes, yes, come in, sir. Do not stand on ceremony.’ Mrs Matthews called to him, ignoring another disapproving sniff from Hoyle, who was tidying the pots and jars on the dressing table. ‘We must decide what we are to do about getting Elyse to London.’

‘My thoughts exactly, ma’am. I have hired a post-chaise to be here at nine o’clock tomorrow morning.’

‘Could we not delay it a little?’ said Elyse. ‘I would like to know my aunt is improving before I leave Scarborough.’

‘Oh, I shall go on well enough, my love, you need not worry over me,’ said Aunt Matthews. ‘And the roads being as they are you will want to have as much time as possible for your journey.’

This was very much what Andrew Bastion had told her, but it was no more palatable to hear it from her aunt.

‘I am sure another week would not hurt.’ Elyse fixed her eyes upon Mr Bastion. He met their challenge but would not capitulate and she felt her temper rising. ‘Mr Reverson’s letters tell me he is as eager as I am for us to be together, but if I explain everything I am sure he would understand if my arrival is a little delayed.’

‘But his father would not.’

‘Mr Bastion is right, my love. You must not give them any reason to reject you.’

‘You think they would cry off, over such a little thing? But William and I love each other.’ She reached into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled paper. ‘Why, in his last letter to me he says he cannot wait for us to be united.’

‘That may be so, but there is no doubt that while this is a brilliant match for you the viscount might have looked higher for a bride for his younger son.’ Her aunt’s gaze had become disconcertingly shrewd. ‘If you want him, love, you must take him now, or it may be too late.’ She squeezed Elyse’s fingers, saying urgently, ‘This is a wonderful opportunity for you, my love. You must grasp it with both hands.’

‘I will, Aunt. I promise.’

‘Good girl.’ Aunt Matthews’s eyes were suspiciously bright and she blinked a little before turning her attention to the gentleman standing at the end of the bed. ‘My brother obviously thought a great deal of you, sir, to entrust you with the care of his only child.’

He bowed. ‘I shall endeavour not to disappoint him, ma’am.’

‘Good. Now, Elyse will be ready to go with you tomorrow morning. And Hoyle shall accompany her.’

There was a clatter as the maid dropped one of the hairbrushes.

‘That I won’t, ma’am. My place is here, with you.’

Aunt Matthews gave an exasperated sigh.

‘Pray do not be tiresome, Hoyle. There is no one else to go with her.’

‘That’s as maybe, but I’ve been your maid for nigh on thirty years and I ain’t about to leave you now, not when you needs me.’

‘You’ll do as you’re told, Hoyle,’ snapped her mistress. ‘Or you can pack your bags and leave this minute.’

The maid did not look unduly worried by this threat. Drawing herself up she said with dignity, ‘That’s for you to decide, ma’am, but I ain’t going.’

She stumped to the door, closing it behind her with a bang.

‘Well,’ Mrs Matthews stared after her. ‘Of all the…she knows I won’t turn her off, of course, but all the same.’

Elyse gave a little shrug. ‘Hoyle has always been a little jealous of me. But even if she were not, you really cannot expect her to leave you now, Aunt, when you are confined to bed.’

‘We must find some female to accompany you,’ stated Mr Bastion.

Elyse was already smarting from Hoyle’s rejection, and the note of impatience in the gentleman’s voice only added to her hurt.

‘Every other maid in the house would be more of a hindrance than a help,’ declared Mrs Matthews frankly. ‘They would most likely fall into hysterics if I suggested they travel more than a mile out of Scarborough.’

He exhaled sharply. ‘Then I shall have to hire someone. Though who I might find by nine o’clock tomorrow morning—’

‘You need not trouble yourself on my account,’ said Elyse, holding herself very stiff.

‘You cannot travel alone,’ he retorted.

‘You are my guardian, are you not? There can be no impropriety in our travelling together.’

She glared at him. He was only trying to help, but suddenly the excitement of her forthcoming marriage was gone, replaced by a feeling that she was merely an inconvenience. It was not a pleasant thought. The gentleman regarded her in silence for a moment and when he spoke his tone was decisive.

‘Very well. If there is someone from the household that you can persuade to go with you it would be an advantage, but as you say, it is not necessary. We can always arrange for a maid to attend you at the inns.’ He turned to Aunt Matthews. ‘I wish you a speedy recovery, ma’am.’ His gaze flickered to Elyse and the indifference she saw in his eyes only added to her dismay. ‘I shall call for you at nine o’clock sharp, Miss Salforde. Be sure you do not keep me waiting.’



Once more Drew walked away from Mrs Matthews’ house with his mind in turmoil. He had been in England for less than a week and already what should have been a simple task of escorting a young lady to London was turning into a nightmare. First of all there was Lord Whittlewood’s ultimatum, making it necessary to reach London with all speed; and now her aunt, the most proper person to act as a chaperon, could no longer travel with them. Such a trifle would not have worried him unduly, if it was not for the fact that his ward was no schoolroom miss but a very desirable young woman.

He recalled that immediate tug of attraction he had experienced the first time he had seen Elyse in her aunt’s drawing room. In their subsequent meetings, even when she was at her most tiresome, it had only grown more powerful. Whenever their eyes locked he could feel the energy crackling between them, a pleasurable anticipation of what it would be like to pull her into his arms and kiss her, to unlock the passion he felt sure she possessed.

Impossible, of course. Not only was she a gently reared young lady and the future wife of another man, she was also his ward, the daughter of his friend, and he was sworn to protect her. And if she was not his responsibility, and not another man’s fiancée, what then? Would he seduce her? Of course not. Elyse Salforde was a gently reared young lady; he could not take her for his mistress. Yet what else had he to offer her? He was a rogue, a traitor. He had decided years ago that he could not ask any woman to share that burden.

He let his breath go with a hiss. This was not about his misfortunes. He must concentrate upon Elyse. She might be damned attractive but he would cope with that. He was her guardian, he would employ a maid at each inn to share her room at night and preserve her reputation. If she was happy to make the journey to London without a chaperon of any sort then so be it. He was damned if he would worry about it.

Yet worry he did. He had agreed to Harry’s dying wish to take care of his daughter, and that would not include ravishing her before she could be delivered to her fiancé.



The next day dawned clear and bright, only a slight mist on the sea indicating that it was no longer high summer. Elyse donned her travelling dress, a riding habit of olive-green twill with a collar of buff velvet and small gilt buttons. She had added black ruffles at her neck and cuffs and a black lace veil was suspended from the rim of her bonnet. The veil was folded back at present but when it was pulled down it completely obscured her features. It was all very sober and no one, not even the infuriating Mr Andrew Bastion, could doubt she was in mourning.