A Lady for Lord Randall (Brides of Waterloo)

Mary discovered that it was possible to want to laugh and to be angry with someone at the same time. She tried her firmest voice.

‘I think I must insist, my lord.’

‘But the gates are in sight. I shall deliver you to the door.’

Mary looked down. Pompey was a very big horse and it was a long way to jump. That is, if the earl did not tighten his arms and prevent her from escaping.

She said angrily, ‘Lord Randall, I find you odiously autocratic.’

‘And I find you annoyingly independent.’

She put up her head.

‘I am very proud of my independence,’ she told him. ‘I own my own house and my establishment is much sought after. It is patronised by some of the foremost names in the land.’

‘I am sure it is. But none of that is going to make me put you down so you can hobble back to the Bentincks and risk doing more damage to your foot.’

She ground her teeth.

‘I think it fortunate that you are a bachelor, sir. Your manners would not endear you to any woman.’

‘Then we are in accord, Miss Endacott. That is the very reason I remain single.’

Mary was so surprised by his answer she could think of nothing to say. Thankfully they were almost at the door, where her cousin was waiting for them.

‘I saw you from the drawing-room window,’ Mrs Bentinck declared. ‘What on earth has happened?’

‘Miss Endacott has injured her foot.’ The earl dismounted and lifted Mary into his arms, depositing her neatly on the doorstep. ‘Since she could not fit her boot over the bandage I brought her home. It is nothing to be anxious about, ma’am. Once the foot is bathed in salt water and a sticking plaster applied she will be able to walk on it again.’

‘Yes, yes, of course.’ Mrs Bentinck put her arm about Mary, saying in a distracted way, ‘But Mrs Graveney invited us all to take tea with her this afternoon at Somervil House.’

‘There is no reason why you and Mr Bentinck cannot come,’ he replied. ‘Although I am sure my sister will understand if Miss Endacott feels the need to lie upon her bed for the rest of the day.’

The earl gave them a brief nod and nimbly remounted his horse, riding off without a backward glance. Mary’s hands clenched around the hapless boot and she longed to hurl it after his retreating form. As if she was such a weakling that she must needs take to her bed over such a trifle.

* * *

Randall resisted the urge to look back. He felt sure that Mary would be looking daggers at him. He felt a smile tugging at his mouth: what was it about the woman that made him want to tease her? He rarely teased anyone. It was childish, but Mary Endacott made him feel like a callow youth again. Perhaps it was her independence, her determination not to seek his good opinion. That was unusual—he was far more used to females using every trick they could to attract him. She was the only woman he had met who considered he was right to remain a bachelor, although she could not know the true reason he would never marry.

After watching his mother lose her bloom while the old earl amused himself with a succession of mistresses, as well as the women at Chalfont Magna, Randall was determined never to inflict such a life on any woman. He had grown up with the conviction that one should marry for love, though heaven knew where that sentiment originated. But how could he insist that his wife should love him when he could not guarantee to be faithful to her? Like father, like son. Had he not proved, years ago, how alike they were? No. he would remain a soldier. That was a life he understood, a life he could control.

* * *

Mary pulled a clean silk stocking carefully over the sticking plaster on her foot. It barely hurt at all now, but she had decided she would not go to Somervil that afternoon. She had preparations to make before her departure, she did not have time for such a frivolous occupation as tea drinking. Harriett would understand.

And you will not have to see Lord Ran

dall again.

‘All the better,’ she said aloud.

It will demonstrate to the world that you are the weaker sex.

‘It will demonstrate that I have the intelligence not to place myself in a position of danger.’

Danger? What danger can there be from a man who barely notices you?

She fluttered her hand, as if to bat away the unwelcome arguments that revolved in her head.