A Rational Proposal (Furze House Irregulars Book 1)(25)
Molly hesitated. “It’s by way of being a safe word, miss, but it don’t do to use it often in case you get taken up on it. Pray you’ll never know why. I had a friend once who... well, never mind that. How did you find yourself here, eh? You’re a world away from Grosvenor Street.”
“It was the stupidest thing. I was leaving Kitty’s house in Henrietta Street and I must have missed my turning in the fog.”
“Kitty Eastwick?” Now Molly’s voice was sharp. “One of Sim’s fancies, are you? Who’d have thought it? I might have spoken truer than I knew.”
“I’m sorry, I do not understand. Kitty is my sister. We lost touch and I have only just discovered her again, so was paying her a visit.”
“Ah, that’s the way of it. I must say, you don’t look much like her, but there’s something in your manner of talking that reminds me of when I first knew her. Well, here’s Drury Lane and here’s a hack. I see you, Fred Grimes. You take this lady where she wants to go or I’ll know about it.”
“Who’s that? Molly Turner? Damn this fog. Horse can’t hardly see her own feet. I’ll take her if you’ll sit up here alongside and keep me warm. It’s a raw day. Be better with you tucked under my coat.”
“And what time do I have to go riding about, eh? That won’t pay the rent or put broth on the table. In you get, miss, he talks a fine line, but he’ll see you right.”
Verity fumbled in her reticule. “Please, Molly, I am so grateful for your help. I would have been quite undone had I not met you. Will you take this with my thanks?”
She was worried she might offend the other woman, but Molly simply gave the coin a professional glance before it disappeared into her clothing. “Bless you, miss, you’re welcome, I’m sure. I’ve no need to work tonight now. That’s twice I’m indebted to you. Grosvenor Street, you say? I’ll ride along of Fred like a lady then. Neither of us will be the worse for a cosy-up and to tell the truth, I’ll be glad not to stand around in the cold and damp this evening.”
“Grosvenor Street?” said the jarvey suddenly. “Why didn’t you say so right off? I was wanting to thank you for your kindness to my poor horse this morning. Made all the difference to her, that mash. I doubt we’d be out here now without it.”
“Oh is it you? I apologise for not recognising you. I’m so glad it helped. Do go in again and tell them I sent you.”
Now she was safe, Verity began to feel worse by the minute. She couldn’t shake off her fright at how tall and narrow and menacing the streets had seemed to become in the fog. The thoughts of those slinking shadows and the roughly-spoken man and what might have befallen her had Molly not had such presence of mind made her tremble so hard she could hardly open the door when they stopped.
Fortunately, it was opened for her. Unfortunately, it was opened by Charles in as towering a rage as she had ever seen him.
“Where have you been?” he said furiously.
It was like a draught of strong medicine. Verity’s agitation was instantly swept away. Charles’s exasperated anger was so much a part of every escapade she and Julia had embarked on in their younger days that it restored the balance in her world as nothing else could have done. She scrambled up to the driver’s perch and embraced Molly, before paying Fred Grimes and reminding him about the mash. Only then did she submit to being hustled into the house and facing the full force of Charles’s displeasure.
“Where have you been?” he repeated. “The footman tells me you sent your maid home alone above three hours ago. Have you no idea of the dangers facing an unaccompanied young lady in London? Especially in this weather. And now I find you taking an affectionate leave of a jarvey’s woman! I ask you, is this rational behaviour, Verity? Would this find favour with your uncle?”
“It started entirely rationally,” she protested, divesting herself of her parcels. “Charles, I have so much to tell you that I scarce understand it myself, but Mama is unwell, so I must first set her mind at rest. Also, I am cold and damp and I have had a horrid fright and if I do not get some bread and butter and something warm to drink inside me this instant, I will forget everything and never remember it in the right order.”
“Then by all means let us bespeak tea,” said Charles with awful politeness. “I would by no means wish to miss a single minute of your recital of today’s doings.”
The footman winked at Verity in sympathy and effaced himself in the direction of the kitchen. Verity took a deep breath and followed Charles to the drawing room, stopping with him on the threshold in astonishment as he opened the door.
“Mama,” she said faintly.
“Sir,” said Charles, equally astounded.
Her mother, far from being prostrate on the couch with a sick headache, was cheerfully dispensing tea from Mrs Congreve’s nicest silver pot and laughingly inviting an animated Mr Tweedie to partake of another slice of cake.
Two minutes earlier, Charles had been consumed by a maelstrom of strong emotion: anger at Verity for being so thoughtless, fear as to what might have been, relief that it evidently hadn’t been, panic about what had given her a fright and anger again at himself for not being able to keep his feelings under control. Now however, sheer surprise swamped everything.
“Ah, Charles,” said his senior partner, peering over his spectacles, “and Miss Bowman. There you both are. As you see, I have accepted Mrs Bowman’s kind invitation to call. We were just exchanging recollections of the late admiral.”