Patricia Veryan - [Sanguinet Saga 05] - Nanette (48 page)

An hour later, his right rear wheel badly sprung, one of his
greys limping from a sprained knee, and his temper considerably frayed,
Harry reached the nearest livery stable. It was full dark before he was
sufficiently satisfied with the condition of his horse to summon a
hackney and venture into the by-now teeming rain, and his mood was not
lightened by the jarvey's disclosure that the Wells was crowded to
overflowing by reason of the mill. His vexed insistence that the man
must know of
something
brought only the mournful
verdict that there was nought as would befit 'his honour'. Harry smiled
faintly and thought that the jarvey, at least, had not recognized him!
He was about to return to the livery stable and attempt to hire another
team when the route they followed brought a jog of memory. He
instructed his driver to turn right at the next corner and,
disregarding the firm observation that "there ain't nothing fitting
down there!" peered eagerly through the downpour.

A weeping willow that drooped beside the lane… a wide sweep of
lawn, and at the edge, a sign, rain drenched and creaking in the wind,
that proclaimed, "Mrs. Burnett's. A Refined Boarding House for the
Genteel Traveller."' In a voice rendered hoarse by nostalgia, Harry
told the jarvey to pull up and wait. He sprang lightly down and, with
the collar of his splendid six-caped coat upturned and his hat tilted
jauntily over one eye, ran to the door.

The angular lady at the counter looked up in no little
astonishment as the tall young Corinthian closed the door on a flurry
of wind and rain and, doffing his hat, revealed a head of thick,
slightly curling dark hair and a pair of fine eyes that not only
brightened her own but brought a dubious recognition.

"Aha," smiled Harry, relieved that she had not exclaimed in
outright horror at the sight of him. "So you remember me, ma'am."

"Well now, sir," she said uncertainly. "Seems as if I do—and
then again, I doesn't. I don't usually forget eyes… But—the only young
gentleman I can recollect with eyes like yourn was a naughty rascal wot
fair turned this old place upside down with his pranks and mischief!"
She leaned across the counter, imparting zestfully, "You wouldn't never
believe it, sir, but I'd a nun staying in the house that night, and—"

"Sister Maria Evangeline," nodded Harry.

Much shocked, Mrs. Burnett drew back. "Oooh!" she gasped,
pointing a bony finger. "You're…
him
! You're that
naughty rascal! Oh, my stays and shoelaces! Oh, goodnight!"

"Now
that
," he grinned, leaning closer
to pinch her blushing cheek gently, "is exactly what I wish to discuss
with you—
dear
Mrs. Burnett…

Harry awoke to the unfamiliar clatter of a coach passing
underneath his windows. The chill of his nose told him the morning was
brisk, but the mattress was a soft billow of feathers and the sheets
seemed almost perfumed… He lay there, fully awake, but keeping his eyes
closed, remembering the last time he had occupied this very room,
wishing he could turn back the clock, and achingly aware that despite
all the perils, the happiest days of his life had been spent wandering
the pleasant lanes and by-ways with Diccon and Nanette… "Little one… my
beloved… how I miss you…"

A soft knock at the door announced the arrival of the maid
with the early coffee he'd ordered. Sighing, he opened his eyes and
summoned a smile as the girl trod into the room, tray balanced on one
hand.

"Good morn—" he began in his polite way.

Her reaction was not quite what he had expected. Her eyes
became round as saucers, her mouth taking on the same shape as the tray
dropped from her hands. "
Oh
! Oh, my
lor'
!"
she gasped, taking a hurried step back, oblivious of the wreckage at
her feet. "Well, I
never
!" And she fled, turned
at the door to peep back in, and with a squeal, vanished.

"I'll be damned!" ejaculated Harry.

"Ravishers usually are," murmured a soft feminine voice.

Captain Sir Harry Allison Redmond sat up faster than he'd ever
moved in his life. A vision stood beside the modest dressing table. A
vision clad in a wrapper that was a misty blue cloud of gauze; a vision
with huge hazel eyes full of love and mischief, and flecks that echoed
the lacy blue cap tied demurely over her shining black curls.

"Wh— Wha—?" croaked Harry.

"The last time we were alone together in this boarding house,"
said Nanette yearningly, "you called me a—er… what was it? Oh, a
'Puss'! And you told me you were 'not a bad sort'…"

"
It
—it was…
you
?'
he gulped, idiocically.

"Then and now, beloved. Only this time—willingly."

Her eyes were limpid, her mouth soft and inviting.

"See here'" Harry remonstrated, pulling the sheet primly
around his chin. "What—what the deuce are y
ou .
.
. doing in my bedchamber?"

Nanette smiled, loving him so much it was a pain, and loving
him the more because although he trembled with longing for her, yet
even now he strove to protect her. "Why, I am compromising you, of
course. My own adored tyrant… my so-gallant gentleman who was willing
to risk his dear life—to endure suffering and shame and danger for my
sake. And yet is too proud to offer for me because of my so-hateful
fortune."

A ripple of subdued but excited chatter broke out not too far
distantly. Discerning Mrs. Burnett's outraged tones, Harry groaned "Oh,
my God! What am I to tell the woman? Nanette, you naughty vixen, turn
around! Quickly!"

Dimples peeping, she obeyed. He jumped out of bed, threw on
his dressing gown and fastened the buttons hurriedly, then told her he
was respectable.

She turned shyly, and noting that his rumpled hair was
twisting into elf-locks she was reminded of their happy journeyings
with Diccon. A tremulous smile pulled at her lips and her eyes blurred.

Gazing at her. Harry thought her exquisitely lovely She was
ail he would ever want… all he would ever need, and in her face a
worship that set his heart to thundering.

The thundering was echoed by a low bur persistent rapping at
the door.

"Sir Harry! Sir Harry! Have you got someone in there'" Mrs.
Burnett's voice was discreetly soft, yet shook with righteous
indignation. "This here is a respectable house. I'll have you know!"

"I don't… understand," said the bemused Harry, retaining
sufficient of his wits to ignore this interruption. "Did you follow me
here?"

"But, of course. Nerina's brother was coming to that
ridiculous mill, and she insisted we accompany him so that we might
shop in the Pantiles. I have been praying for weeks that you would come
for me… and trying to build up my courage to come to you in spite of
that very foolish letter you sent. But—I was afraid you would send me
off again. "This, I thought, must be handled very much with
adroitement
,
for he is clever and I may lose him forever? We chanced to pass when
you were leaving the stable, and I begged that we follow. When you came
here, I knew what I must do.Nerina nearly fainted when I took rooms
also, although it was silly because my dear Lindsay—the abigail who
gave me her dress when I first ran away—is here with me."

"And doesn't know you are in
here
, I'll
wager," he said, still struggling. "Nerina was right and it is—most
improper, as you must—er, certainly… be aware."

"Terribly improper," she agreed. "But very necessary, all the
same. I crept in here before anyone was about and waited for you to
wake up so that I might entrap you! I am shameless,
oui
,
but…" She held out her arms, "Ah, my dearest one, how could I resist so
golden an opportunity?"

Dizzied with love and a joy he scarce dare acknowledge, Harry
yet clung to his unyielding Code. "Are you—er, I mean—do you wear a… a
nightdress under that—wrapper?" he stammered.

Blushing adorably, Nanette discarded the wrapper. She was
fully clad in a charming gown of pale primrose crepe, with a low,
squared neckline and the bodice fastened with a tiny mother-of-pearl
buttons. "I am not so abandoned as to appear before you in… my
nightrail," she said breathlessly, only to add with an incorrigible
twinkle, "The maid, however, assuredly thought I wore only a nightgown
under my wrapper, so you are fairly disgraced, you know."

"Wretched little shrew…" he said in a choked voice, and
reached out to her. With a muffled sob, she ran into his embrace. He
caught her tight against his heart, and with his cheek against her hair
and his eyes closed, murmured rapturously, "My darling… oh, my most
precious vixen. Are you—
quite
sure?"

"Quite sure," sighed Nanette.

Wherefore he bent his head at last and kissed her thoroughly
with a love that seemed more of heaven than earth.

"I'll give you a 'alf hour!" hissed a very earthy voice at the
keyhole. "And then I'm a'calling of the Watch! Such carryings-on I
never did hear in all me born days! Twice! Don't you
never
set foot in my house again! Barrynet, green eyes, or no!
Imagine
!"
Still muttering her outrage, the good lady took herself off, her rapid
footsteps fading into silence.

Harry deposited a kiss in the softness of Nanette's palm. "You
must return to your room at once. I'll go down as soon as I'm dressed
and try to calm her… somehow!"

"Will you? I wish I might hear it," she giggled, and nursing
his hand to her cheek murmured "There is just… one thing, Harry…"

"What is it, my own, my heart?"

"I am afraid," said Nanette demurely, "you shall have to…
marry me, now…