Still held in his arms, she squirmed round to face him, while the multitude followed the carriage into Portman Street, which relieved the press of bodies about her, though he did not release her. ‘My lord!’
He lifted a hand from around her waist to brush her hair out of her eyes. She gazed up at him, so overwhelmed with relief that she did not notice that his fingers still stroked her temple and that his other hand was still firmly around her waist. His dark eyes were searching hers, making her feel weaker than ever. If he released her, she felt sure her legs would not support her and she would crumple to the ground. ‘My lady, are you all right?’
‘Yes, yes, now that you are here,’ she said, pulling away from him at last and endeavouring to push her hair behind her ears and replace a few of the pins. ‘I thank you for your timely intervention.’
‘It was my privilege, my lady, but tell me, what were you thinking of to come out alone on such a day?’
‘I was not alone. I had my maid with me and a groom, but I lost them in the mêlée.’ She looked back, searching for a sight of them in the sea of heads. ‘I was carried along, quite unable to make headway, and had to go with the crowd. I had no idea it would be like this.’
‘I advise you to avoid going out on foot while the Queen is in Town.’
‘And how long will that be, do you suppose? I do not like the idea of being confined to the house by a mob.’
‘You need not be. I will be pleased to escort you, whenever you wish to go out. In the meantime, I will see you safe home.’
‘Thank you.’ She took off her other shoe and carried it, as they began walking back down Oxford Street, quieter now, with everyone resuming whatever it was they had been doing before the Queen passed. ‘But I must find Daisy and Tom.’
‘I do not doubt they will find their own way home, my lady. I think you need to be safe indoors before anyone of consequence sees you.’
She laughed. ‘Yes, I must look a mess.’
‘Not a mess in my eyes, my lady, only delightfully unruly, but perhaps others might see the matter differently. Is the Duke at home? Or the Duchess?’
‘No. Papa has gone to another of those interminable meetings to try to resolve the problem of the Queen, and Stepmama has gone to the orphanage, which was why I could not have the carriage.’
‘Perhaps it is as well. You will be able to change and tidy your hair before anyone sees you and then, with your permission, I will return this afternoon to make sure you are none the worse for your little adventure.’
‘Thank you. You are very kind. I must be causing you great inconvenience.’
‘Not at all.’
They were just turning into the end of St James’s Square when they were spotted by James, arriving on horseback to call on her. He leapt from the stallion and strode to intercept them, his expression furious. ‘Vinny, whatever has happened to you?’ And then, without waiting for an answer, turned to Edmund. ‘Wincote, if you have harmed a hair of her head, by God, you will have me to answer to.’
‘James, do not be such a gudgeon,’ Lavinia said, putting a restraining hand on his arm. ‘Lord Wincote has just rescued me from being trampled to death by a mob and I am very grateful to him.’
‘Oh.’ James was only slightly mollified. The sight of Lavinia with her hair all over the place, her dress and stockings torn, with her shoe in her hand, accompanied by a man he did not trust, had frightened him half to death and his immediate reaction had been that Wincote had compromised her, if not actually molested her. It was not easy to change that image of the man instantly into one of knight errant. ‘What happened?’ he demanded. ‘Why were you out unchaperoned?’
‘I was not. I had Daisy and Tom Bagshott with me, but we were separated. I was carried along by the mob; if Lord Wincote had not arrived when he did, I do not know what might have happened.’
‘If that is the case, I beg your pardon, Wincote.’ He turned his mount to shield her from the gaze of the bystanders who were showing more than a little curiosity at the scene being played out before them, and began to escort her towards her home, leading the horse.
‘Granted,’ Edmund said pleasantly, falling into step the other side of her. ‘I think I might have been inclined to the same conclusion if our roles had been reversed—’
‘I would never do anything to hurt Lady Lavinia.’
‘Nor I, Corringham.’
‘Lavinia, I think that you must not go out again on foot,’ James said as they reached the front door of Stanmore House. ‘Not until these troubles are over.’
‘Just what I said,’ Edmund put in, almost triumphantly. ‘I have offered my escort whenever it should be needed.’
‘But you have no carriage.’
‘No, but I intend to acquire one very soon.’
James did not reply to that, as a footman opened the door and stood holding it, his mouth gaping.
Lavinia smiled at him. ‘Dobson, have you seen Daisy or Tom?’
He recovered himself quickly. ‘Yes, my lady. They came home some time ago, but as you had not preceded them, they went out again to look for you. We have all been most concerned and wondering if his Grace should be summoned…’
‘I am glad you did not do that,’ Lavinia said, imagining how angry her father would be at her foolishness. ‘But we must go and look for Daisy and Tom.’
‘Oh, no, you don’t,’ James said. ‘You must go and change you clothes before the Duchess comes home. Lord Wincote and I will go. That so, Wincote?’
If Edmund had been hoping to be invited in, he did not show his disappointment, but bowed to Lavinia and smiled. ‘Of course, my lady. We will bring them both safe home.’
They turned and left together and Lavinia, who had recovered from her fright, burst out laughing. James and Edmund certainly did not like each other and, as she climbed the stairs to her room, she wondered why. Surely they did not see each other as rivals for her hand?
James had never given her the slightest hint that he felt anything more than a brotherly interest in her, and she had only known Lord Wincote a few days, certainly not long enough to form an abiding attachment. But that was not to say she could not or would not do so in the future. His eyes had held hers so that she was unable to look away and his touch sent fire through her limbs. If the romantic novels she was constantly reading were right, that was how love was supposed to strike you, wasn’t it? Is that what Stepmama meant, when she said Lavinia would know when it happened?
But what about James? She adored him, knew she could rely on him without reservation; it did not matter what kind of a scrape she landed herself in, he would be there to haul her out of it. Even today, though he had not been present in the crowd, he had been ready and willing to defend her honour. But surely that did not mean he wanted her for a wife, or that she could view him as a potential husband?
She went into her room, flung her odd shoe on to the floor and sank on to her bed, trying to imagine James married to someone else: to see a woman’s figure beside him, holding his arm possessively, looking up at him with shining eyes and him returning that look as if no one else in the world existed for him. How she hated this imaginary wife of his! It was something she had not thought about before and this feeling was so strong it took her by surprise. ‘You are selfish beyond redemption,’ she scolded herself. ‘If anyone deserves to be happy, it is James.’
Not one to give way to the dismals for long, she left her bed and went to look in the long cheval mirror near the window. The sight which greeted her made her gasp and then laugh aloud.
She looked like a street urchin; her hair was in a tangle where the coils which had looked so shiny and neat