An Improper Suitor by Monica Fairview

Author:Monica Fairview [Monica Fairview]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780709094876
Publisher: Robert Hale
Published: 2011-09-27T04:00:00+00:00

He appeared out of the shadows, taking her elbow firmly in his hand.

‘I was a fool to trust you,’ hissed Neave. ‘To think I believed in that cock-and-bull story you concocted about your friend, when all the time you were staying in Lady Thorwynn’s house.’

Very briefly, almost too fast for her to follow, a knife glinted, then disappeared.

Panic froze her. He was a desperate man and she did not know what he was capable of. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Should she just surrender to him, let him win his wager? Supposing she gave in, and he stabbed her afterwards and threw her body into the Thames?

She tried to calm herself. She would never escape if she did not gather her wits about her. What could she say to convince him to let her go? Nothing came to mind. ‘I’ll call a hack,’ he said. ‘And you’ll come with me, nicely and quietly.’

Nicely and quietly. The words echoed in her head. She needed to try and get away from now until they reached the main road, where the hacks could be found. What would be the best thing to do? She could scream, of course, but that could well result in a scandal that she might never live down.

She wondered if there was any way to make him trip, or to make him fall down one of the steep servants’ stairs. They would pass by several more townhouses on the way to the main road – surely the wrought iron gate would be open at one of them. If not, she could pretend to fall, open the gate, and push him so he fell down the stairs. She would make him lose his footing, using one of the iron boot scrapers. She strained with her eyes down the row of houses to see which entrance would best serve her purpose.

She was so engrossed in her thoughts, it took her a minute to realize he was making no move to walk down the street. He stood there, just a few steps away from Lady Thorwynn’s townhouse, waiting.

An acute desire to laugh rose up in her and she smothered it. The laughter cleared her brain and she grew absolutely lucid.

There were no hacks in this street. George Yard, where Lady Thorwynn’s townhouse was located, was not a through way. It terminated in a large mansion that blocked any other exit. It was difficult for carriages to turn round, so they came this way only to drop off passengers if they had to. In order to call a hack, one had to walk to Duke Street, or to Grosvenor Square through a connecting narrow lane. It was an inconvenience Lady Thorwynn often deplored, at the same time declaring how glad she was to be free of the constant rattle of carriages.

They would stand there forever, waiting.

She went over everything Thorwynn had told her about Neave, especially the scene at the battlefield with him running away. She considered the knife, hidden somewhere in the folds of his overcoat.

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