Runaway Miss by Mary Nichols Page B

just entered the room behind her.
    ‘Sorry, can’t help,’ the woman said.
    ‘Then what am I to do? I cannot go on tonight.’
    ‘I can give you a blanket for the settle in here.’ The woman pointed to a padded bench against one wall.
    ‘Oh.’ She had not been prepared for that; Lord Malversseemed only to click his fingers and they were given everything they needed. ‘I suppose that will have to do.’
    ‘It’ll cost you three shillings, three more for breakfast.’
    Emma did not dare question what she thought was an exorbitant price for the use of a blanket. ‘I shall not require breakfast, thank you.’
    She and Rose went to sit down while the woman went to fetch the blanket. There was no sign of Lord Malvers or his man and she wondered if they had continued on with the coach, which might take them nearer Lake Windermere. It had left, together with its new passengers, as soon as the horses had been changed. The feeling that, for the first time since leaving London, she and Rose were entirely alone and dependent on each other was a dismal one.
    ‘Miss Emma,’ Rose whispered, forgetting, in her concern, to address her as Fanny. ‘The southbound coach is due in at any time and there is room on it for me. If I do not take it, I must wait another twenty-four hours. We have been longer on the road than I thought and I am worried about my mother. I promised her…’
    ‘Oh, Rose!’ Could things get any worse? Emma wondered. This was no longer an adventure, it was a nightmare.
    ‘Please, my lady. You knew I wanted to leave at the end of the week and today is Saturday.’
    ‘Is it?’ Emma had lost all track of time. She seemed to have been travelling forever. Rose was looking at her expectantly. ‘Of course you must go, Rose. After all, you only undertook to bear me company to my destination and here we are. First thing in the morning I will enquire my way to Mrs Summers. Her direction is written on Mama’s letter, so she won’t be hard to find.’ It was said with a cheerfulness that did not deceive Rose.
    ‘Come back with me,’ Rose suggested. ‘I am sure we can find a corner for you at home until your stepfather relents.’
    Emma realised immediately that it would not do. A labourer, a woman big with child, not to mention an army of small children, all sharing a tiny cottage—she could just imagine the confusion her arrival would cause. ‘Bless you, Rose, but I shall manage. You have done your duty admirably. And if you ever want a character…’
    ‘Your mother gave me one, my lady.’
    The sound of another coach drawing into the yard brought both girls to their feet. Emma took seven guineas from her purse and pressed them into Rose’s hand. ‘You will need this.’
    ‘It is too much, my lady. I can travel outside.’
    ‘Certainly not. I would give you more, if I could.’
    They went out to the yard where Rose paid the coachman for her ticket to Manchester and turned to say goodbye. The two women hugged in tears and then Rose climbed in and was borne away. Emma stumbled back into the inn to find the innkeeper’s wife standing looking about her with a blanket and pillow in her hand. ‘Thought you’d changed your mind, miss.’
    ‘No, I will spend what remains of the night on your settle. I need to be up betimes anyway.’ She took the blanket and pillow and retired to the farthest corner of the settle. Now the coach had gone and no more were expected, the room was quiet. Even the noises in the yard outside ceased as the horses, fed and watered, settled down in their stalls. The landlady turned down the wicks in the oil lamps, leaving the room in semi-darkness.
    Emma put the pillow into the wing of the settle, laid her head upon it and shut her eyes. She did not expect to sleep, there was too much on her mind. She would not allow herself to dwell on the fact that she was quite alone in a strange place with only a few shillings in her purse; better to concentrate on something positive, like