Regency Society

‘Yes,’ Roxanne replied. ‘He has been in considerable pain since.’

‘I shall examine him,’ the doctor said and bent over Luke, pulling back the covers. He unwound the stock Roxanne had used and ran his fingers over the swollen ankle, frowning and nodding to himself. ‘I think this may be a case of dislocation rather than a break. Your employer has been lucky, miss.’ Hearing a moan from the patient, the physician turned his gaze on him. ‘This may hurt a bit, sir. I am going to…’ He pulled Luke’s leg out straight, making him yell out with pain as something clicked. ‘Yes, I thought so. It will be painful for a while, but I shall put a tight bandage on and visit again tomorrow. You will need to rest for a time, but in a few days it should start to mend. You had dislocated the bones just above your ankle and the ligaments will be inflamed, but I am sure the bones themselves are not broken.’

‘I pray you are right,’ Luke muttered between gritted teeth. ‘It hurts like hell now.’

‘Yes, I dare say it may.’ The doctor dipped into his bag, brought out linen bandages and rebound Luke’s ankle and above to his calf. ‘That should help the damage to settle and it will heal naturally. I’ll give you something for the pain.’ He delved into his bag again and took out a small brown bottle. ‘This will help you sleep, but it is dangerous if you take too many doses. You will have to measure it—just four drops into a cup of water every six hours. Miss Peters, is it?’

‘Yes, that is my name,’ Roxanne lied and took the bottle. ‘Is this laudanum?’

‘Yes—have you used it before?’

‘A friend of mine used it sometimes. I know that it must be handled carefully, sir.’

‘Then I can trust you to look after our patient.’ He glanced down at Luke. ‘You will sleep soon, Mr Clarendon—and there should not be a fever, but if it happens you may send for me again.’

The physician took his leave. Roxanne carefully measured the drops into a glass of water. She helped Luke to sit up and he took the cup, gulping it down and draining the lot. Then he lay back against the pillows with a sigh.

‘I was selfish to ask you to sit with me. You should go to bed and rest.’

‘I shall sit here by the fire for a while. The doctor says there will be no fever, but I want to be sure you are peaceful. You were warm and sweaty earlier. I thought you might take a fever, but perhaps now you can rest you will soon feel better.’

Roxanne sat down by the fireplace. Someone had lit the fire when they brought Luke Clarendon up and it was just beginning to draw well. Her room had no fire and she might as well sit here in comfort—but she would lock the door first, just in case she dozed off.

Roxanne woke with a start. The fire was still burning so she could not have been asleep long. She got up quickly and went to the bed, bending over Luke. He appeared to be sleeping peacefully and when she placed a hand to his forehead, he was only slightly warm.

If he had not made a sound, what had woken her? She went to the door and stood with her ear against it, listening.

‘Is anyone there?’ she asked softly, but received no answer. ‘What do you want?’

Another sound alerted her and she turned swiftly towards the window, just in time to see a man’s face looking in. Someone must have fetched a ladder to try to gain entrance that way after realising the door was bolted on the inside. Instinctively, Roxanne bent down and retrieved the iron poker from the fireplace. She approached the window, raising her arm high, making it clear that she was ready to repel any intruder. For a moment she stared at the face looking in. The features were coarse and common, unknown to her. Aware that he had been spotted, the man hesitated and then disappeared. Roxanne looked out and saw the top of his head hurriedly descending the ladder, which he then picked up and ran off with towards the stables.

Roxanne’s legs felt slightly shaky as she sat down by the fire once more. She had not known the man attempting to enter by way of the window, but she was certain the landlord would. Her instincts had been right. Their host was a rascal and it would not be safe for her to leave Luke Clarendon alone while he was in a drugged sleep.

For a moment she wondered if the doctor had been in with them, but Luke seemed to be easier now and she thought the physician had known his job well enough. She shivered and bent down to place another log on the fire. If Luke were well enough to hire a carriage of some sort, they would do better to move on as soon as they could.

‘Have you been to bed at all?’ Luke asked as he opened his eyes and looked up at her. She had been applying a cool cloth to his brow. ‘That feels good, but I do not have a fever. My mind is quite clear now. I think I slept for a long time?’

‘Yes, you did. I stayed with you all night. There was an attempt to gain access through the window, but it woke me and I faced the intruder down with the poker. He ran away, back to the stable.’

Luke’s mouth thinned. ‘In league with the innkeeper I imagine? Some of these fellows are rogues. Not content with their pay, they will rob the unwary.’

‘He must have thought you were alone. I am afraid I have wasted two shillings of your money. I did not use the room I asked for at all.’

‘Well, you should go there now and rest. But first, give me my pistol—it’s in my coat, the inside pocket—and then ask the landlord to bring food and drink, Roxanne. I doubt he will try anything in broad daylight, but if he does I shall show him I’m no fool. I shall enquire what kind of transport is for hire—but if there is none available here we shall go on together on my horse.’

Roxanne fetched the pistol from amongst his things and handed it to him. Had she known it was there, she might have used it to protect them instead of the poker the previous night.

‘Are you sure you can manage to move on so soon? The doctor said you should rest and he would come again today.’

‘My ankle feels sore at the moment and there is some pain in my calf, but the excruciating pain of yesterday has gone. I would rather leave if I can manage it.’

‘If we can hire a chaise of some sort, will you leave your horse here?’

‘I doubt I should see it again. I shall pay the man for the hire of his vehicle and change at the next posting house, but take my horse with us.’

‘I confess I cannot wait to see the back of this place. Had I not been with you, you would certainly have been robbed as you slept.’

‘I should not be the first vulnerable traveller to die in his bed at the hands of rogues calling themselves landlords.’ Luke frowned. ‘I have much to thank you for, Roxanne. It seems as if you have saved me from my own folly more than once.’

‘I have done nothing any decent person would not,’ she said, a faint flush in her cheeks. ‘Travelling with you will save my small store of money and I shall reach London sooner.’

‘I might not have reached it at all without you.’

Luke’s gaze was so warm and so intent that her cheeks flamed and he laughed as he saw her discomfort. ‘Now I have embarrassed you. Forgive me, Miss Roxanne. I have not forgotten my promise. I shall not try to seduce you—at least until our bargain is at an end.’

‘You should not try it at all, sir. You will be disappointed. I have no intention of becoming your mistress—or any other man’s.’

‘So you say.’ Luke smiled lazily. ‘You are far too beautiful to remain untouched for the rest of your life, Roxanne. Someone will persuade you to part with your innocence—I should prefer that it was me.’

‘I think you must have a fever, sir. You hardly know me—and you should know better than to mock me.’

‘I was not mocking you, Roxanne. Believe me, there are not many women who make me feel the way you do—but I shall not tease you, because I might frighten you away. I may be able to leave this place soon, but that doesn’t mean I am safe until I get to London.’

‘Are you thinking of your enemy?’ Roxanne looked concerned. He might be arrogant and too sure of his power to charm, but she did not fear him, as she had Black Bob. ‘I thought it was one of the landlord’s rogues trying to rob you last night, but your enemy may have followed you here to try to kill you.’

‘No, I do not think so.’ Luke frowned and wished he had not spun her such a tale. ‘He might want to punish me, but he would not kill me.’

‘Oh—then I dare say it was not he.’ Roxanne looked thoughtful and he wondered what was in her mind. ‘If you truly know a theatre manager who might give me a trial, I should be grateful.’

‘I shall help you, as you have helped me,’ Luke promised. ‘Whatever else I may be, Miss Roxanne, I am not ungrateful. One day I may try to make you my mistress, a position you might find to your liking if you gave it a chance, but it shall not be while we journey together.’

Within two hours, they had left the inn. The groom who had first aided them the previous day was driving a chaise, which was in reasonable order, with Luke’s horse tied and trotting behind. Roxanne sat beside Luke on the seat facing forwards so that they could see the groom’s back. He had told them his name was Harold and seemed likeable. Hopefully, he was honest, but they would only need his services until they reached a well-known posting inn a few miles further on the London road. Roxanne was not sure what Luke Clarendon had said to the innkeeper, but though he had looked at her in a surly way when they left, he had not spoken to her disrespectfully. She had previously returned Luke’s gold to him and he had paid for their lodging and the doctor’s fees.

Roxanne was certain their host had added extra to the bill for himself, because his charge of two guineas for the doctor’s visit seemed extortionate to her, but Luke had paid it cheerfully.

‘It was worth treble for the relief he has afforded me,’ Luke said. ‘I am still in pain, but it is bearable now.’

‘I am glad to hear it.’ Roxanne was thoughtful. If Luke Clarendon was capable of travelling alone now, she ought to leave him and make her own way. He had offered her help, but she was uncertain of the price she might be asked to pay.

Sofia had so often warned her to be careful of gentlemen, especially those who smiled and promised her help or a fortune. This man was charming and handsome, but she did not quite trust him.

Well, he might attempt seduction, but she did not believe he would force her—the way Black Bob would have had she stayed with the travelling players. Luke Clarendon was a gentleman, after all.

Roxanne knew that his warnings were valid. If she became an actress, she would be offered protection by various men—perhaps the manager of the theatre himself or gentlemen who came to watch her perform. If she gained admirers, she might follow in Sofia’s footsteps and become the mistress of an aristocrat or even royalty. It was not what Sofia had wanted for her or what she planned for herself, but it might be impossible to avoid some such relationship.

Why not a man she had already begun to like?

The thought had wormed its way into her mind against her will. Roxanne did not wish to become any man’s mistress, but if it was inevitable— Her thoughts were interrupted as Luke glanced at her.

‘You look pensive, tired. Why do you not lean your head back against the squabs and sleep for a while? I think we may trust Harold. Relax your guard and rest.’

‘Yes, perhaps I shall.’

Roxanne leaned her head back against the squabs, closing her eyes. When Luke Clarendon looked and spoke to her in that way her defences crumbled. He was such an attractive man and she was beginning to like him all too well.

When she woke an hour or so later, the chaise was drawing into the yard of what was clearly a prestigious inn. She discovered that she had been leaning against Luke’s shoulder and apologised, her cheeks warm.

‘Forgive me, sir. I hope I have not made you uncomfortable. Does your leg pain you very much?’

‘It is sore and, yes, a little painful,’ he said. ‘I shall live, Miss Roxanne—and you did not make me uncomfortable at all.’

The groom had brought the chaise to a halt. One of the inn’s employees had come to open the chaise door and let down the step. Seeing that Luke was carrying an injury, his breeches split and opened to allow for the bandages, the man offered his hand, helping him to descend. Luke did so slowly and carefully, his flinch of pain not going unnoticed by either the ostler or Roxanne.

‘I have suffered an accident, as you see, Johnston,’ Luke said with a friendly smile at the man who clearly knew him. ‘If you would have someone care for my horse and ask someone to give this kind fellow something to eat before he goes on his way again. Please help me inside yourself.’

‘Yes, sir, of course,’ Johnston replied and signalled to his minions, who came running and were given curt instructions to see to the horses.

Roxanne frowned as she thanked Harold for bringing them here safely and gave him a shilling of her own money for himself.

‘I’m sorry if you weren’t treated right at the last place,’ he said and pulled his cap. ‘I heard what happened, but I didn’t know until I was told what you did, miss. You were right brave.’

‘I do not think you belong at a place like that, Harold.’

‘No, miss, nor don’t I,’ he agreed. ‘I stayed because it were better than being on the road, but when I take this rig back I shall give me notice and look for work elsewhere.’

‘I am sure you will find it,’ Roxanne said and inclined her head before following Luke into the inn.

When she entered she saw him in close conversation with a man who looked to be the landlord. He was a very different man from the last one they had met; portly and pleasant-faced, he smiled and nodded at her in a friendly way.

‘This gentleman has told me he owes his life to you, miss. I know there’s more than one who should be grateful to you. My wife will take you up to a nice comfortable room and look after you. I dare say you are very tired.’

‘I slept a part of the way here,’ Roxanne replied. She looked at Luke, her fine brows raised. ‘Have you asked our host to fetch a doctor, sir? I think your leg may need further attention—just to make certain it has been properly treated.’

‘Don’t you worry, miss. His lor…his honour is in good hands now.’

Roxanne heard the change in the landlord’s tone and his hasty correction. What had he been going to say? It was clear that Luke Clarendon was well known and respected here—but how was he normally addressed?

She frowned as the landlord’s wife came to greet her, curtsying respectfully. ‘Come this way, miss. We are always glad to have his lordship come to stay—’ She clapped her hand to her forehead. ‘There, if Sid didn’t tell me I was to call Lord Clarendon his honour. My tongue runs away with me, so it does—but everyone knows who he is so why not say it openly?’

‘Why not indeed?’

Roxanne felt her cheeks getting warmer. What a fool she was not to have made sure of her facts for a start. He had told her his name was Luke Clarendon and she had assumed his title was plain Mister. He must have been laughing at her behind his hand.

Luke Clarendon was an aristocrat and therefore not to be trusted. Sofia had told her that they were the worst of all and warned her never to lose her heart to a member of the upper classes. ‘If you do, he will use you and then abandon you. Take notice, child, for I know of what I speak.’

Roxanne felt her stomach knot with a mixture of anger and disappointment. For a short time she had begun to think that perhaps Luke really liked her—so why had he not told her he had a title from the start?

He had pretended to trust her, but he hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her who he really was. She felt the sting of tears, but blocked them out. There was no sense in crying. She didn’t know Lord Clarendon at all and, after listening to Sofia’s opinion of the aristocracy for years, she was sure she did not wish to. Her friend had warned her that they were all the same: proud, arrogant and ruthless.

‘They know how to be charming and they will smile and tell you they adore you, but underneath they are cold and heartless. They will not marry out of their class—and they toss you to one side when they are finished with you. The English aristocracy are the worst. Some foreign royalty are kinder and more generous. Never trust an English gentleman, Roxanne—particularly if he tells you he will always love you. Just take what you can from him and move on before he does.’

Roxanne kept her anger in check as she followed the innkeeper’s wife along a hall and into a room. It was large and comfortable, well furnished and, with a fire burning in the grate, warm.

‘This is next to his lordship’s chamber,’ she said. ‘He always has the same one when he visits on his way to stay with the earl.’

‘Who is the earl?’

‘Why, his grandfather, of course.’ The woman gave her an odd look. ‘I thought you would know that, miss, being a cousin of his lordship.’

‘Yes, of course. There is more than one earl in the family.’

Her quick answer banished the other woman’s frown. ‘So there will be,’ she replied and laughed, her large bosom shaking. ‘Silly me. Now, is there anything more you need, miss?’

‘May I have my supper here, please? Just something light—and I would love a cup of tea.’

‘Yes, of course you would. You ladies love your pot of tea and bread and butter—but I’ve a nice pie cooking and some chops for his lordship. His lordship is partial to a nice chop or two.’

Roxanne inclined her head. She was so angry that she barely knew how to answer. One part of her mind was telling her to walk out now and make her own way to London. If Harold had not left, he might have taken her a bit further before returning the rig to its owner. Yet if she did that she would not have the chance to tell Lord Clarendon exactly what she thought of him and his lies.

The warmth of the fire was enticing and Roxanne’s feeling of annoyance faded as she moved closer, holding her hands to the flames. There was nothing to stop her moving on alone, because Lord Clarendon was amongst friends and would be properly cared for. Her instincts told her that she might be laying up trouble for herself if she stayed here and yet she was seduced by the thought of a warm bed, the fire and some hot food.

What harm could it do to travel on with him, even if he had not been entirely honest with her?

It was good to be in a house again instead of the cramped conditions in the caravan… Now where had that thought come from?

Try as she might, Roxanne had never been able to remember anything about her previous life. Sofia was convinced she had run away from her home, that she was the child of gentry, but had been in some terrible danger.

‘Something happened to you, my love,’ Sofia had told her. ‘You were frightened and ill. In your fever you spoke of many things, of places you’d seen and people you knew. For weeks you woke crying and screaming, frightened of a dream, but you could never recall it. It is the reason I did not try hard to find your family. If you ran away in such distress there must have been a reason—and I would not give you back to people who might ill treat you.’

Had Roxanne’s family mistreated her? Sofia had burned her clothes, because she said they were not fit for use and could tell them nothing about her past, except that they were of good cloth.

Roxanne shook her head. If her family had wanted her, she would not have been wandering the roads alone and in such a state. It hardly mattered where she had come from. Sofia had been like a mother to her, giving her all the love she instinctively knew had been missing from her previous life. A wave of grief swept over her, bringing tears to her eyes. She dashed them away with her hand, determined not to give into foolishness. Sofia was gone and she must manage alone.

Faced with walking the rest of the way to London alone or travelling in a chaise with a gentleman, who was truly in no condition to ravage her, she thought she must be sensible and choose the latter. If Lord Clarendon tried to seduce her as he recovered his strength, she could leave him and go on alone.

Removing the black-velvet cloak that had been Sofia’s, a relic of the days when she had moved amongst gentlemen of fortune and their mistresses, Roxanne sat on the edge of the bed. Her dress had also belonged to Sofia when she was a young woman; though old-fashioned, it was of good cloth with a low, dipped neckline, in which Roxanne had sewn a frill of soft cream lace for modesty’s sake. Amongst her things was a silver hand mirror that she had inherited from her friend, an ivory comb and a bristle brush. She took them out and then tidied her dark red curls, glancing at herself once before replacing them securely in her bundle.

When she heard the knock at the door, she gave permission to enter, but was surprised when Lord Clarendon walked in.

‘I thought it was the innkeeper’s wife, my lord,’ she said and raised her head defiantly. ‘Why did you not tell me you were the grandson of an earl? I should not have called you Mr Clarendon had I known your title, sir.’

‘It hardly matters. Hartingdon is about to disown me anyway.’

‘Why?’ Roxanne asked. ‘Is he not your grandfather?’

‘He brought me up after my parents died, but I was a nuisance. He did not truly wish for the trouble of a young boy and I was left to the care of servants. When he was forced to discipline me, he was harsh. As soon as I inherited my father’s estate I left Hartingdon and have visited very seldom since—and yet…’

Roxanne sensed his hesitation. ‘You are troubled over something?’

‘Hartingdon is an old man. He fell down in some kind of faint while I was visiting there recently and—to be honest, it distressed me. Had you asked me a week ago if I cared a damn what happened to him, I should have said no but now…’ Luke shook his head and laughed ruefully. ‘I am a fool. His health changes nothing. And if he makes that popinjay Harte his heir…it is not my affair.’

‘Why would he disown you?’ Her clear eyes disconcerted him and he dropped his gaze.

‘He wishes me to marry a suitable young lady, someone with good manners who will not disgrace the family.’

‘Why should he imagine you would marry anyone other than a respectable girl?’

‘Because he has been told that I have a string of mistresses and it is true that I have found pleasure in the arms of whores. I have found them kinder and more generous than young ladies of my acquaintance.’ He frowned. ‘I dare say it was my fault that he was ill.’

‘You are blaming yourself, are you not?’

‘Yes. I thought he was going to die. It shocked me and I realised I did not wish for it.’

‘You care for him,’ Roxanne said and nodded, looking at him curiously. ‘Why do you not do as he asks and marry a suitable girl?’

‘Because the only ones I know bore me to tears. I would make him happy if I could, for I believe he may not have long to live—but to marry a woman I could not love is a life sentence. Even for his sake I could not do such a thing.’

‘No? I thought men of your class often married for land or money?’

‘If one is in difficulty…’ Luke glared at her. ‘My father was forever having affairs. He broke my mother’s heart. As a consequence they quarrelled and…the chaise he was driving went off the road into a ditch filled with water and they were both killed. I was thrown clear and survived. The last thing I remember of that day was my mother screaming at him, crying because he had broken yet another promise. I would not wish to make any woman that miserable.’

‘How terrible for you. I think I understand why you feel as you do.’ Roxanne frowned. ‘If the earl does not have long, could you not let him believe you mean to marry and then…?’

‘Break it off?’ Luke raised his brows. ‘I should be a fine rogue to dash a young lady’s hopes, should I not? Society would throw me out and I should deserve it.’

‘Yes, it was a foolish idea, though if she knew and it was a business arrangement it might be possible,’ Roxanne said and then changed the subject hurriedly because she had been outspoken. ‘I have asked for my supper to be brought here. Did you want something, sir?’