Chapter Twelve

 

Johnathan stopped his horse and lowered himself to the ground. It was unusually hot, and the sight of the water trickling down the small stream reminded him how thirsty he was. It had been over a week since Alice had run away, and he had yet to find her. Not only had he not found her, he could not find a single soul who had seen her. It was as if she had vanished into thin air.

He squatted down and refilled his canteen. Miss Huntington had humiliated him, but worse still, she had caused him to lose money. On the last visit to his home only two days earlier he had been informed that Lord Burkley had withdrawn his request and had gone to someone else for his needs. The loss of the man’s business would cost Johnathan hundreds, if not thousands, of pounds, and each day without a wife was costing him more.

One thing Johnathan had earned in his favor upon his return home was an extension from two months to three to meet the terms of his agreement with Mr. Huntington.

“Yes, I can see you will need more time, and I am willing to give it to you,” Mr. Hunting had said with a sly smile. “I am not an unreasonable man.”

When Johnathan left once again in search of the elusive Miss Huntington, he felt relief mixed with a sense of apprehension that, even with that extension, there was a distinct possibility that he would not find the woman in time. He had to give her credit; she was much more intelligent than he had suspected, for it was a rare occasion when anyone, especially a woman, was able to wriggle from his grasp. He had allowed a woman to fool him in the past, and he would not allow Miss Huntington to do the same. Once he found her, he would do what he could to convince her to come home with him, even if it meant carrying her back tied up and thrown over his horse.

As he stood to stretch and ease the tightness in his lower back, his gaze fell upon a small cottage with a small garden with various vegetables growing in it. Next to the garden stood a woman with blond hair pulled up and tied with a kerchief hanging her washing on a line; however, it was not the clothes she was hanging that caused him to drop the canteen but rather the dress she wore. It was an exquisite blue gown that seemed very out of place in the humble setting, and he recognized it immediately as being much like the one Miss Huntington wore the last time they had walked through the garden. The possibility of a woman of the gentry owning a similar garment was high, but a woman of lower means owning such an article of clothing was highly unlikely.

Johnathan picked up the canteen from the ground and returned to his horse. Once he was mounted, he flicked the reins and crossed the stream, slowing before reaching the cottage so as not to scare off the woman. She turned when she heard him and planted her hands on her hips.

“That dress,” he said, “where did you get it?”

The woman looked up at him with narrowed eyes. “I bought it,” she replied in a firm, yet defiant voice. She then turned back to her washing.

Johnathan had no time for games and would not be played for a fool. “Interesting,” he said as he attempted to keep his temper in check. “A missing woman was last seen wearing a dress very much like that. Perhaps I should alert the magistrate that you were possibly the last person to see her.”

The woman picked up the now empty basket. The previous defiance was gone, replaced now by a bit of worry. She bit at her lip and glanced around.

“Was quite a few days ago, maybe a week, she came by here,” the woman replied as she balanced the basket on her hip. “Bright red hair like the sun.”

Johnathan felt his heart rate increase. There was no doubt; his intuition was correct. “Did you speak to her? Why did she give you the dress?” Then he narrowed his eyes at her. “Or did you take it from her?”

The woman shook her head. “No, My Lord, I did not take it from her. You see, I was inside with my sewing when I heard someone talking outside. I looked out the window and she was talking to herself.”

Johnathan nodded. He had caught Miss Huntington talking to herself on more than one occasion. “Go on.”

“Well, she said something about two for one was a good exchange. It was a bit difficult to hear exactly what she said, but it was something like that.”

“That does not matter,” Johnathan said impatiently. “What did she do? Or more importantly, did she mention anything of importance, such as where she might have been heading?”

The woman lowered the basket to the ground. She was shaking visibly, so his threat must have encouraged her to loosen her tongue.

“She took two of my dresses from the line and hung up her dress in their place.” The woman’s defiance returned as she once again placed her hands on her hips. “It were a fair trade. I’m keeping this,” —she pulled at the skirt of the gown she wore— “and I ain’t given it back.”

Johnathan pulled out a shilling and held it up for the woman to see. “What else did she say?”

“She said something about a Thomas and ‘going to Cornwall’,” the woman replied as she eyed the coin greedily. “She didn’t say nothin’ more than that before she took off.”

Johnathan smiled and tossed the coin to the woman. So, the woman who he had intended to marry was in Cornwall with another man? Very well, then, he would go there, find her, and bring her back with him, and he had no doubt now that he would truss her up, even if she came willingly. Then he would get rid of whoever this Thomas was, for he would never be allowed to tempt her again.

***

It had been a fortnight since Alice first arrived in Cornwall, although to anyone observing her, she had lived in St. Mawes for years. Isaac had introduced her to every shop owner on the row, and through them, she had come into acquaintance with many patrons and residents of the village. Alice found she enjoyed the easy conversation when speaking to those she met in passing, which was not something that happened much in her life previously. Too much time was spent indoors with her reading or needlework; ladies of her station simply did not find themselves in those situations often, and typically it was because they did not speak to someone outside of their class. However, what she learned was these people were honest and hard-working, were quite pleasant for conversation, and some had the most wonderful stories to tell.

As a matter of fact, this morning she stood just outside the door to a haberdasher not far from her own speaking to a trio of sailors who were friends of Isaac’s. One of them, Patrick by name, was telling her of a time he showed great heroism—perhaps with a bit of exaggeration.

“So,” Patrick, who was a man of perhaps twenty years, was saying, “then the courier looked right at me and with his dying breath, he said,” —he put his hand around his throat as if to choke himself and changed his voice to sound weak and raspy— “‘be sure it gets to the crown.”

Alice giggled as the other two men, Jerome and Henry, groaned and rolled their eyes.

“It was then that I left immediately and delivered the letter myself.” Patrick smiled as he straightened his back and lifted his chin with pride.

“Well, we best be getting back to work,” Jerome said as he clapped a hand on Patrick’s back and laughed. “Have a wonderful day, Mrs. McMalley.”

Alice looked down at the box of fabrics she had purchased on her outing and sighed. “I guess I must carry this heavy box myself,” she said in mock frustration as she shook her head.

All three men reached down to take the box, each pushing the other to be the one who would assist Alice. It was not that they had any sort of love interest in Alice—all three had female interests of their own—however, they all seemed to enjoy doing things for her. Perhaps it was because she treated them with respect and was courteous to them.

In the end, Patrick was the victor in who would carry Alice’s burden for her, and he gave his friends a victorious stare. Then he turned to Alice. “Shall we, My Lady?” His wide smile showed several gaps in his teeth.

“Thank you, Patrick,” Alice replied. “I see you have been using what I’ve taught you about using your manners.” She raised her eyebrows at the other two men in a scolding manner. They looked down and mumbled a quick ‘good day’ as Alice and Patrick walked toward her shop.

“Sally says my manners are a big improvement,” Patrick said. “She says I still might make a fine gentleman one day.” His countenance was one of a proud man, and Alice was glad she had helped him. He was never impolite, but he had never had instruction on how to conduct himself properly, and Alice felt great pride at how quickly he and his friends were learning. Not only would it be of benefit to them as they interacted with local businesses, she had explained, but also women would treat them differently and give them more respect. Alice suspected the latter was more of a motivator than the former.

Patrick settled the package on the counter and wiped his forehead on his sleeve. “You have done so much, Mrs. McMalley,” he said as he looked around the much more organized shop. “It’s gonna look so nice when you finish.”

Alice looked around proudly at her handiwork. Several shelves now lined two of the walls and one wall held several swatches of the fabrics she already had on hand. She would add more as she purchased more. Her plan was to hire two women to help her make the hats while she spoke with the customers in the shop.

“It will look nice,” Alice replied. “Thank you again, Patrick.”

“Of course,” Patrick replied with reddened cheeks. “Right. Well, I need to get back. Bye, Mrs. McMalley.” He hurried to the door before she could reply and closed the door behind him.

Alice shook her head. Patrick had learned quite a bit over the past week, but he still had a bit more to learn. She reached into the box and removed the fabric she had purchased. One was a lovely green with tiny blue birds and another was a deep blue. A roll of deep burgundy ribbon followed, as well as a bundle of lace with which she planned to create flowers and heavily starch so they maintained their shape.

The tiny bell above the door tinkled and Alice sighed. Patrick was always forgetting something and had to return, usually forgetting an important part of whatever story he had told her.

“What did you forget this time?” Alice asked with a laugh. She turned and her smile fell and her heart tightened.

“Hello, Miss Huntington,” Lord Blackmoore said. His eyes held a fury she had never seen in the man before and his cheeks were so red, he appeared to have sat too long in the sun.

Alice took a step back, terror rushing through her. How had this man found her so far from home? “What do you want?”

Lord Blackmoore laughed, but it lacked any sign of humor. “You ran off without a word. I had thought we had made progress, that perhaps you had developed some feelings for me.”

It was Alice’s turn to laugh, though it was a bit shaky. “Feelings for you? Are you mad? You and my father tried to trick me so you could close an agreement.” His dropped jaw and wide eyes told her he thought she did not know. “Oh, but I heard you two discussing the terms in Father’s study. I will not be played a fool, My Lord.” She used his title as if it left a bitter taste on her tongue.

“That is unfortunate, but that makes no difference. Your father and I do have an agreement, and you have no choice but to return with me.”

“No, I will not!” Alice shouted as she attempted to hold back the tears that filled her eyes. Her plans had been going smoothly and now he expected her to simply drop everything and leave her dreams behind?

“You will!” Lord Blackmoore shouted in return. “I am hot, tired, and…” His hand shot out in an attempt to steady himself on a nearby table as he swayed on his legs.

Alice rushed toward him. Regardless of how she felt about the man, she could not allow him to collapse. “Come and sit,” she said as she grabbed his arm and walked him to a chair. “You look exhausted.”

He mumbled something unintelligible and she ran to her small living quarters and came back with a cup of water.

“Drink this,” she said as she handed him the cup. “Have you eaten?”

“No,” he replied weakly. “Not since yesterday.”

“Here, let’s get that coat off of you,” she said as she pulled at the sleeve of his black coat. “You have no one here you must impress.” She then returned to her tiny kitchen, grabbed a hunk of bread and some cheese. “I am sorry, I have no fire started to make a cup of tea, but I can give you more water,” she called out.

“Water is fine, thank you,” came his reply.

When she returned to the shop area, she sighed. He sat with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands and looked completely depleted. “Here,” she said quietly as she handed him the plate, “this will make you feel better.”

He took the plate with a quick, “Thank you,” and ate his meal, not even concerned that he had to use his fingers to do so.

Neither said a word as he ate, for which Alice was glad. She needed the opportunity to think clearly. She had no desire to return to marry him, that much was certain, but how could she convince him to allow her to stay? She enjoyed her life here in Cornwall; she had made new friends and loved looking out her shop window to see the ocean. It was a much better view than what she saw out of her bedroom window at home. In all reality, if her father had made an agreement for her hand in marriage, there was little she could do about it. Despite his blustering about how he was disappointed she had chosen spinsterhood, not once had he forced her to accept any man’s proposal. However, how could she convince this man to allow her to stay here rather than return with him?

“How did you find me?” she asked when she noticed his natural color had returned to his cheeks.

He moved a wave of hair from his forehead. “I looked in every direction before luck sent me past the home of a woman wearing your blue dress,” he replied. “A shilling convinced her to tell me all she knew, including to where you were going.” He chuckled. “You know, you really should stop talking aloud; your voice does tend to carry further than you think.”

Alice cringed. It had been a habit for as long as she could remember, and although she had told herself on many occasions she needed to stop, now it was too late. The damage had been done.

Even after eating, Lord Blackmoore looked weak. Alice chose not to mention this as she was certain he would not accept the words as compliment. “My Lord, you are welcome to rest here for a while,” she said as she gathered his plate and glass, “but I will not return with you.” She poured him another glass of water from a pitcher she had brought out and handed it to him.

“And why is that?” he asked.

“I have found a place I love and would prefer to be here than in Exeter,” she replied honestly. “I have made friends and will be doing something I love. I cannot have that back home.” She looked down at the floor. “And I do not love you.”

“So, you love Thomas.”

Her heart seemed to stop and her eyes went wide. How did he know about Thomas? Then she groaned inwardly. Had she mentioned him in one of her rants when she was speaking aloud to herself? It happened so often, she was unsure what she said on most occasions.

“The night I met you in the stables, I heard you mention his name,” Johnathan replied quietly. “Then the woman I met wearing your dress also said she overheard you say his name.”

Alice bit at her lip. She would not discuss Thomas with anyone, but especially not this man. “It matters not to whom my heart belongs,” she said in a firm voice as she stood, “though it does not, and will not, belong to you.”

He stood and slammed his fist on the table, most definitely having regained most of his strength. “I care not for your love!” he shouted. “I simply want you as my wife!”