A Regency Virgin's Undoing: Lady Drusilla's Road to Ruin / Paying the Virgin's Price

And heard another snicker from the boys behind her.

She went around to the back of the carriage and clambered into the basket, securing the packages with the rest of the luggage and, quite by accident, placing Char’s bonnet where it might be crushed at the next stretch of rough road. Then she helped Char and her chaperon into their seats as the groom who should be doing the job appeared from the taproom, too late to be of help to anyone.

As Drusilla closed the door and withdrew, Char gave an insolent toss of her head and said, ‘For your trouble.’ And then she pulled a coin from her purse and made as if to hand it out of the window. But she realised at the last moment that she had no wish to touch a filthy stranger and dropped it in the direction of Dru’s hand.

Before she could snatch it from the air, the shilling hit the cobbles and rolled into the muck.

Dru stared down at it in disgust. Under normal circumstances, she would not have noticed the loss of it. But things were far from normal and she was still far from Scotland. She stooped and grabbed, trying to ignore the dirt clinging to her fingers. To add insult to injury, the Deveral carriage had started on its way. Before she could step clear, the wheels and hooves sent up a fine spray of mud that struck her cheek.

To make her humiliation complete, Mr Hendricks appeared with two fresh horses, just in time for a view of the tableau: Lady Drusilla Rudney, muck spattered and scrambling for coins, to the great amusement of ladies and stable boys alike. She could expect no more fine words about her obvious feminine beauty now that he’d seen her debased, dismissed as something less than human by a woman of her own kind. Even worse, she had disobeyed him by talking to Char at all. She waited for a stern lecture on speaking to strangers and the need for secrecy. Or, worse yet, laughter.

Instead, he said nothing, offering her his handkerchief to wipe off the mud. Then he spoke as though he had seen nothing unusual. ‘The news is both good and bad, I’m afraid. The couple you seek were here just this morning.’

She hurriedly wiped her face, clinging to this one small success. ‘How many hours ago?’

‘Four, perhaps. Maybe less. They stayed for luncheon, before starting out again. They seemed in no hurry, wherever it was they were going.’

‘So we are gaining on them.’ Dru smiled in satisfaction. ‘They were a day ahead when I started off. If they continue to dawdle, then we are likely to catch them before they reach the border.’

‘If that is still what you wish,’ Hendricks replied. ‘We are at the end of our funds, I am afraid.’

‘I thought you had ample money to help me,’ she said, feeling even worse than before. If she’d taken the man’s last groat to catch her sister, she could hardly fault him if they failed.

‘I thought I had sufficient funds as well,’ he said. ‘But now that I have brought us to the middle of nowhere, I find that my purse is still in my pocket, but its contents are gone.’ His brows knit and the darkness of his expression was truly fearsome. She braced herself, ready to bear the brunt of the inevitable tirade.

Instead, he turned it inwards upon himself. ‘I have only myself to blame for our circumstances. Like a fool, I left my coat behind in the mail coach, as I helped to push. And that grudge-bearing, bacon-fed cit went through my pockets and helped himself to it. Now I am reduced to picking through a lady’s reticule and letting you grovel for pennies in a coach yard.’ He looked to her again, obviously pained by the confession. ‘I am sorry, Lady Drusilla. I have failed you.’

She felt a rush of sympathy. After all he had done to get her this far, she was amazed that he would think so harshly of himself. ‘You most certainly have not failed me,’ she said. ‘We have simply hit another difficulty and must take the time to examine our options. What do you suggest?’

‘As I see it, we have two alternatives. We return to the place we left and find the man responsible.’

‘And what good would that do us? He would likely deny that he had taken anything.’

‘At first, perhaps. But all the same, I would give him a thrashing that would shake the coins from his pockets.’ His cold smile and the glint in his eye said that the experience would be the most emotionally satisfying option and the one he favoured.

‘Mr Hendricks!’ Drusilla said sharply. ‘Attend, please. To return to find the thief would put my goal quite out of reach. If I have come this far, I do not wish to turn back without some satisfaction. Is there no other way to get to Scotland?’

Now, he was staring at her in silence, as though she were a piece in the puzzle that he could not quite seem to make fit. He did not immediately answer and she repeated, ‘Mr Hendricks?’

‘I am thinking,’ he said, a little too sharply for a servant, and then corrected his tone before responding. ‘There is another way, if you are dead set on continuing. We will press northwards as we have been doing and ride this change of horses to the end. We will be forced to sleep rough. We will take the shilling in your hand to buy some bread and cheese for our supper. But after that, we will have to beg or steal what we need for sustenance.’ He looked heartily sorry that he could not do better. ‘I fear it is not what you are accustomed to. But the only other alternative I can offer is to admit defeat and appeal to your father for help.’

‘And that is precisely what I will not do.’ She stood straight again, remembering that she was the daughter of a duke and not some slouching farm boy. Then she wiped the muddy coin and handed it back to Hendricks along with his handkerchief. ‘Take this and buy us some dinner, so that we might set off again.’ She glanced up the road at the dust of the retreating carriage, focusing all her anger and frustration on it, longing for revenge. And then an idea occurred to her. ‘And if you hurry I think there is a way that we might solve all our problems, given a little darkness and a little luck.’

Chapter Eight

‘This is mad, you know.’ Mr Hendricks spoke in the same soft voice he used on those times when he managed to remember that she employed him.

‘You have told me that on several occasions already.’

‘I did not think one more would make a difference,’ he said, with a sigh. ‘But if there was even the smallest chance, then I had to try. When I suggested we steal to survive, this was not at all what I was intending. I meant that we would take only what was necessary. A loaf from a farmer’s window sill, perhaps.’

‘Which would leave the poor family there with nothing to eat,’ she said. ‘Does it not diminish the hurt to all concerned if we steal from someone who lives a life of excess?’

‘Perhaps that is true, in theory. But you are not discussing some distant and romantic utopia. You are asking me to rob a coach on a modern highway. I believe, my lady, that you have confused me with some idealised combination of Robin Hood and Dick Turpin.’

‘Just as you have confused me with a character in a Drury Lane comedy,’ she snapped back, ‘and persuaded me to traipse halfway across England in your cast-off clothing.’ His tone annoyed her, for it was no longer mild subservience. There was a distinct air of derision. And it was just another example of the way those around her had no trouble leading her into jeopardy with their outrageous plans, then resisting when she offered an equally outrageous plan of her own.

‘If you mean to rob every farm between here and Scotland, we will never reach our destination. Rather than stealing one loaf at a time, we could take a single purse from someone who can afford a closed carriage and have more than enough gold to finish the trip. In the eyes of the Lord, the latter is far worse.’

‘It is to be my misfortune that you were reading the story of the widow’s mite,’ he said. ‘I should have taken that book from you when I had a chance.’

‘If you had, my opinion now would be the same,’ she snapped back. ‘I have no desire to spend a week sleeping in barns and munching on stolen bread and green apples.’ Although, were she honest, the prospect of being forced to sleep in the wilderness, huddled against Mr Hendricks for warmth, had a certain appeal to her.

‘I am sorry, my lady, if all that I can offer you is not to your liking.’ There was a surprising bitterness in the way he said her title, as though it were caught in his teeth.

‘And I am sorry if you do not like the position you have been engaged to perform.’ She gave him her cruellest smile and let the words be an equally bitter reminder for him, as well as herself, that her present condition was nothing more than a colossal inconvenience.

‘Begging your pardon, my lady.’ He offered a false bow and tugged his forelock. ‘I will not forget my place again.’

The soft blond hair falling in his eye gave her the sudden and inappropriate impulse to smooth it back with her fingers. She ignored it and said, ‘Your apology is accepted. Now, about the matter of the coach robbery …’

‘Which I cannot in any way condone.’

She huffed in disgust. ‘Your weak resolve had been duly noted. And I dismiss it. The occupants of the vehicle we will be stopping are unworthy of your sympathy. Char Deveral is a pampered, foolish girl of carefully cultivated prettiness, who would leave a full purse on the ground rather than soil her hands picking it out of the mud.’

Or a coin from a coach yard. The incident still stung, even now that her hands were clean. She had made Mr Hendricks ride the next miles hard and well off the road, until her anger had abated. But at least she was sure they had passed the carriage and could lie in wait for it.

And now, even if she did not get to Priscilla in time, she would have her revenge for that muddy coin and for a host of other small tricks and social slights delivered over the years by Char and her friends. She smiled at the prospect. ‘I know her type well. They are always talking behind their hands at those not of their set, laughing at their own empty jokes, and despite all the warnings of those who know better, running off with men who are little better than servants, heedless of what it might to their reputations, leaving the more rational members of their family to rescue them from their own foolishness, causing no end of misery …’

Now she had gone totally off her track and could tell by the look in his eye that he thought her even madder than before. He broke into her tirade. ‘It is not the character of your potential victims that concerns me, Lady Drusilla. Or their tendency to fraternise with men who are beneath them. It is the result of our likely capture.’

She waved away his objections. ‘If we are caught, then I shall tell everyone who I am and that you are my servant, forced into the actions by my misguided desire for adventure.’

He held his hand heavenwards as though to summon the angels to witness what he was forced to endure. ‘And I suppose, when they ignore you, and I am hanged for highway robbery, it will be a consolation to know that it was not really my fault.’

‘Nonsense,’ she insisted. ‘My father has bought justice to a halt for my sister more often than you can imagine. If this time the felonious prank perpetrated was the fault of Silly Rudney instead of his darling Priss, he will be annoyed with me, but will not hesitate. While the world has heard of no such actions on my part, a single mistake of mine can hardly compare to the sum total of the rest of my family.’

Mr Hendricks swore aloud, not caring that she heard the words, and said, in a more moderate tone, ‘The upper classes are all quite mad. For a time I had hoped that you were proving to be otherwise. But you are blessed with a stubbornness that is well outside the bounds of sanity and a single-mindedness that could wear reason down to a nub.’

So, she had lost the good opinion of the man who sat beside her. ‘At least I am consistent, Mr Hendricks.’

‘You are that, my lady.’

Then she tried something that had not occurred to her before and dipped her head slightly, doing her best at a shy smile, as her sister would have done when trying to charm a man. She looked up at him through her long dark lashes. ‘I am sorry to have been such a bother. You have done your best to keep me safe and I have much to be grateful for. If you can help me in this one last thing, I will see to it that you are properly rewarded for the inconvenience of it.’

He laughed. ‘So it has come to this, has it? You mean to use your wiles on me, now that all else has failed?’ There was a strange pause before his response, as he stared boldly back at her in challenge. ‘And how might you reward me, if I risk my neck for you?’ His voice was not mild at all, but hoarse, deep and strangely thick. She could feel the answering thickness in her blood as her pulse slowed.

She swallowed, wondering what she had meant to tell him. Some part of her mind was sure that her sister would have offered a single kiss as though it had some material value, but she doubted the currency of her inexperienced lips was of comparable worth. Nor could she inform him that, should they manage to find Priscilla, she could procure that kiss for him from her sister.

Then a thought occurred to her. She could tell him to take what he liked for a reward. Then he would kiss her. And though it would seem like a forfeit, only she would know that she had been rewarded twice.

But now that she needed it most, her nerve failed her. ‘My father will pay you double whatever you intended to receive from this escapade. What else could I possibly mean?’

He shook his head in amazement. ‘I cannot imagine. Double the pay it is, then. And enough money to replace what was stolen from me?’

‘Of course.’

‘Then for you, I shall turn highwayman, my Lady Dru.’

His anger with her must have dissipated, for the way he’d shortened her name had none of the frustrated affection that she felt when someone called her Silly. This made her feel odd. She tingled, almost as though he had reached out and touched her cheek to show her that they were friends again, and she needn’t worry.

He stared down the road. The sun was near to dipping behind the horizon; with each moment, it became more difficult to make out details of their surroundings. But from just behind the last hill she could hear the sound of horses, and the jingling of harnesses growing louder as they drew near.

Mr Hendricks removed his spectacles and tucked them into the pocket of his coat.

‘Do you not need them to see what you are about to do?’ she asked.

He shook his head. ‘Sometimes it is better not to see. It will be easier to do something as foolish as we are doing tonight without a clear view of it.’ Then he reached behind him to the bag that was strapped to the back of his saddle and removed a pair of pistols and two black neckcloths. He tossed a cloth to her, and then carefully handed her one of the guns. ‘Pull the cravat up and over your face,’ he cautioned. ‘Stay well out of the way, up on this hill with the setting sun to your back. You will seem much more intimidating if they do not have a clear view of you. And keep the pistol pointed up and over the heads of the drivers.’

‘It is not loaded.’ She said, trying not to sound relieved, for he had not troubled with ball and powder for her gun as he had with his own.

‘But they do not need to know that and I do not mean you to shoot. Just hold it as if it is properly ready. They will have no idea, unless you do something that might cause them to fire at you and do not respond.’ Then he looked at her seriously. ‘And if they do, if there is any trouble at all, then you will turn and ride away, do you understand?’

‘But that will leave you here alone.’ At last, she saw the truth of the risk she had forced him to take. The empty gun trembled in her hand.

His face was dark, as threatening as one would expect from someone desperate enough to rob a coach. But it was with concern for her, not anger. ‘If there is gunplay, it is no place for a lady to be, much less a lady disguised that might be treated with as little care as one might treat another man. If there is a problem, you will leave me to my fate.’

‘I am your employer and I ordered you to this.’ If he was hurt, it would be her fault. The thought almost choked her with anxiety.

‘You have not answered me,’ he said firmly. ‘I brook no discussion of this, nor will I waste time listening to any suggestions you might give me. Swear that you will do as I say, or I will not proceed. And hurry, for there is not much time.’ Without his glasses, there was no mildness in him at all. And the way he was staring at her made her feel small, easily managed.

It made her wish that there would be cause for him to look at her like that again. Perhaps in a situation where she had not put his life in jeopardy. For if he did, she would respond to any command he might give. She stifled a sigh and said, ‘As you wish.’

‘Very good. The coach is almost here and we have no more time to argue.’ He pointed to a spot well up the hill from the road. ‘Wait for me there. The height will appear to give you a good shooting position and will make retaliation difficult. You will be perfectly safe, as long as you do what I say.’

He pulled his own dark scarf over his face, and she masked herself as well. There was nothing attractive about highway robbery. Or, at least, there should not have been. But the way he sat atop his horse, and the sight of him with nothing but those strange amber eyes visible above the scarf, was quite dashing.

It was incongruous with the look of quiet competence that she had come to expect when seeing Mr Hendricks. The man before her now was the very devil on horseback. His thighs were muscular, the dark coat stretched over broad shoulders and a shock of blond hair crept out from beneath the low brim of his hat. And, once again, her body tingled in the unexpected way it had when she had first sat upon the horse with him. He had been so strong, when he’d helped her easily in and out of the saddle. Now she wondered how those strong hands would feel if they lingered on her body.

They waited in silence, as the carriage approached. Suddenly, it was too late to lay a hand on his arm, or call out a warning to stay him. He was thundering down the road into the path of it, causing the driver to pull up and the horses to shy.

‘Stand and deliver!’ Mr Hendricks’s voice echoed off the surrounding hills, and his horse reared as he fired a single shot into the air. But he kept his seat as though there were nothing in it, waving the driver and groom to the ground with his pistol.

And she would do everything she could to help him, even if it meant doing nothing at all. She kept her horse still and the pistol steady, held high so that the coachmen below her could see it.

They got down from their seats and made no effort to defend the family they served. Having met the inhabitants of the carriage, Dru could guess why. There was little to recommend Char that would give one the desire to risk life and limb.

Mr Hendricks was down from his horse in a trice, waving the coachmen to the side of the road and directing them to lie upon their bellies and out of the way, gesturing up at her to show them it would go harsh with them should they try anything. When he was sure that they would do as directed, he strode up to the carriage and opened the door.

Charlotte gave a ladylike shriek from inside. ‘My jewels!’

Hendricks gave a slight bow and a tip of his hat, then said in a plummy voice, ‘I would not, for all the world, threaten your lovely person, nor steal the baubles from your beautiful throat.’ Under his mask, she was sure he was smiling. ‘I seek the money in your purse and mean to take only as much as I need.’ He held open the door, then held out his hand for her reticule.

And the foolish girl leaned so far forwards, trying to get a good look at the man in the road, that she tumbled out into his arms.

From Dru’s position, it was the most contrived thing she had ever seen in her life. Char’s shameless behaviour very nearly made her forget the two men she was supposed to be watching. But when she looked back at them, they showed no signs of rising and seemed more interested in a flask they were passing back and forth between them, than in regaining the pistols resting on the seat of the carriage.

Mr Hendricks caught Charlotte easily before she hit the ground. Then he said, in a voice deeper than usual, ‘You needn’t fear, my lady. Your person and your jewels are perfectly safe. Though indeed, now that I see you, they are hardly necessary to enhance your beauty.’

Dru’s eyes narrowed. For while she had no wish to see Mr Hendricks shoot Char, Priss’s friend was doing it much too brown. The girl reached to open the reticule, pretended to fumble, dropping her purse in the dust of the road. Then she began to sag.

Hendricks rescued the money and tightened his grip on the girl fainting in his arms. Dru could remember how nice those arms felt when they had been around her body. But he’d never had cause to hold her as tightly as this. And he never would, if the only way to accomplish it was to fake a swoon.

Charlotte gave a weak laugh. ‘I fear I am close to overcome.’ She put her hands upon his bicep, so she could feel the muscle there. ‘You are very strong.’ She tipped her head back in an obvious invitation. ‘And I am quite defenceless.’

‘Are you, now?’ She could tell, even from this distance, that Hendricks was responding favourably to the shameless play-acting. And it irked her to see the trick she’d tried on him played better by one who had no responsibilities to prevent her from feigning helplessness when it suited her.

In the carriage, Char’s chaperon gave a warning tutting noise, but did little more than fan herself and watch eagerly. In Dru’s opinion, the woman did far too little to put a stop to her charge’s behaviour, even when there was not a pistol drawn.

Hendricks had pulled the coin purse from inside the bag and was feeling the weight of it in his hand. ‘This will do nicely, I think. I will not take from your companion. If she has any money, she will need it more than you.’ He glanced over his shoulder, gauged the distance and tossed the purse expertly up to Dru, who loosed the strings and counted the substantial curl of notes inside.

‘If there is anything else you want sir, you are welcome to it. As long as you spare my life and my necklace.’

She’d said nothing of her innocence, Dru noted. And now Char was batting her eyelashes as though she had cinders in her eyes.

Mr Hendricks gave a little laugh and reached to undo the bottom of his mask. ‘Then you shall sacrifice a kiss, my dear, and I will go on my way.’ And then he put his lips upon hers. It was hard for Dru to see past the edge of the mask and the red haze forming in her own eyes. But it appeared that he had opened her mouth. His mouth was open as well. There was much movement and what looked like mutual chewing.

The coachmen were nudging each other and chuckling where they lay on the ground. The rate of the chaperon’s fan increased, as though she was about to overheat in the closed carriage.

Now Char was making little noises in the back of her throat that sounded suspiciously like moans of pleasure. Her body trembled and her hands clutched urgently at Mr Hendricks’s coat, as though she wished to crawl inside it with him.

And Dru felt sick, wishing that she could call the last few moments back and beg bread from farm wives as he’d first suggested. Her petty desire to take revenge on Charlotte might have gained them the money needed to finish the trip, but it had earned Charlotte a conquest.

And Char had got her kiss. If she had only chosen the right words a few moments ago, she would be the one bent over Mr Hendricks’s arm. It would be her mouth he’d opened. And she would be the one shuddering in ecstasy and hanging from his lapels.

Instead, she had offered him money.

Dru stared down at the purse. Then she pocketed the bills, which were more than enough to get them to Scotland and back, and let the little bag drop again to the ground. She gave her horse a little kick that caused him to shift uneasily and stamp the thing into the mud at his feet.