Her mother folded her hands in her lap, one eyebrow lifting.
“But what would that matter, if he claimed to love you?”
The challenge in her words gave Elizabeth pause. She did not like the way that her mother continued to question her. It seemed as if she wanted to tie her up with chains of her own words.
“I must fall in love with the gentleman also. Surely you can understand why I have no consideration for Lord Newport, Mama! From my point of view, the only thing that he desires is a young bride on his arm. That is all, nothing more. He does not care for me, not in the least.”
“I do think it a little unfair of you to judge him so.” Sighing heavily, and with obvious discontent, her mother looked out of the window as the carriage trundled along. “Well then, if you are not to marry Lord Newport, would you consider Lord Greenfield?”
A flicker of anger threatened, and Elizabeth sucked in a breath, turning her attention to the countryside outside rather than answering Lady Longford. How long would she have to endure her mother’s encouragement in this matter? They had been in the carriage for some four days now, broken up by various visits to inns and the like but, the closer they came to London, the more eager her mother became. Even though her previous resolve had failed her, Elizabeth set her shoulders and kept her gaze at the window. This time, she determined, she would not look at her mother, nor listen to what she had to say. She would let her words wash over her like the rain, brushing down over her skin but without making any real impact. Lady Longford could suggest all the gentlemen she wished, but that did not mean that Elizabeth would be in any way affected by her ideas. Tilting her chin up, Elizabeth gritted her teeth as Lady Longford continued to describe the achievements of Lord Greenfield - a gentleman who was so full of his own appearance, he did nothing but gaze at himself in any looking glass or reflection he could find!
To remain silent until we reach London will be a very difficult challenge indeed!
* * *
Elizabeth did not knowhow long Lady Longford had spoken for. She was drifting somewhere between being lost in thought and weariness - tired from the journey, tired from the banality of her drive, but most of all, weary of her mother’s conversation. She had droned on and on about the various gentlemen Elizabeth might consider while Elizabeth had said nothing whatsoever, and had given only the occasional murmur to indicate that she was still paying attention when, of course, she had been doing her very best to ignore her mother’s every word.
“Oh, and we must not forget Lord Pickett!”
Inwardly recoiling, Elizabeth turned to look at her mother again. Lord Pickett was a fop, and she would do nothing to encourage his attentions.
“Mama, I am aware that there are many gentlemen who may wish to court me, but you must recall thatImay not –”
Her resolve to remain silent was broken, but her sentence thereafter was cut short by a sudden, harsh cry which was quickly met by a shout from their coachman. The horses whinnied and the carriage slowed abruptly and with such fierceness that it threw Elizabeth and her mother off their seat.
It took Elizabeth a few moments to gather herself again, realizing that she was somewhere between the floor and the seat opposite her. Blinking, she pushed herself back to her previous position, immediately looking at her mother, who had one hand pressed to her forehead and was now very pale indeed.
“Whatever happened?” Her eyes took in the whiteness of her mother’s face, and she grasped her hand, her irritation forgotten. “Are you quite all right?”
“I am a little pained.” The slight quaver to Lady Longford’s voice had Elizabeth’s concern growing rapidly. When her mother took her hand away from her forehead, there was a large bruise and a lump on her forehead – a bruise that was already darkening. “I do not know what I hit my head on, but it is painful.” Lady Longford winced. “Why ever did we stop so?”
“I do not know.”
Elizabeth, who was herself nursing a few bruises, looked out of the window and then made to rap on the roof for their coachman. She could not understand why they had stopped so rapidly, nor why the coachman had behaved with such evident inconsideration. Her hand fell back when another bout of shouting rang around outside them and, to her utter astonishment, a face appeared at the window.
With a shriek, Elizabeth fell back against the squabs as her mother moved away as best as she could, scrabbling into the corner of the carriage. The face - or what Elizabeth could see of it - was that of a man who was, strangely, smiling broadly at them both. His eyes were hidden behind a mask of sorts, the type she might expect to see upon a gentleman at a masquerade ball. Dark eyes glinted behind it with a few dark curls poking out from either side of his hat. Fear gripped her, her heart pounding so fiercely that she was afraid it might leap from her chest.
“No need to be afraid.” His voice was a little muffled by the window, but his meaning became all too clear when he tapped on the window with his pistol. Elizabeth let out another shriek as the man, opened the door himself, playing the part of a footman, and let down the steps. With a flourish, he bowed low, then stood with one arm stretched out towards her. “Good afternoon. Allow me to escort you from the carriage.”
Taking in a deep breath, Elizabeth looked first to her mother and then back to the highwayman. Lady Longford was shaking, huddled in the corner of the carriage, her face turned away from the man who now stood before them. Elizabeth had no doubt of what he was, having heard stories about men such as these. They preyed upon carriages, no doubt quite certain that ladies and gentlemen of wealth would be making their way to London… but never had she thought that her own carriage would be caught by such a nefarious person.
Then I must be bold and refuse to allow my fears to take hold.
“As you can see,” she began, hearing the tremble in her voice, “my mother is not well enough to be removed from the carriage.” Lady Longford dared to turn her head, then let out a shriek before burrowing it back into the carriage seat again. “For her sake, you must let us be on our way at once.”
The man laughed, his eyes twinkling as though the remark were some sort of great joke that he was now thoroughly enjoying.
“I am afraid that I am not the one to be commanded, my Lady.” He gestured to Lady Longford with his pistol free hand. “I can, of course, see that your mother is rather afraid of the circumstances, but nonetheless that will not prevent me from taking my gains from you.”
Elizabeth drew herself up, ignoring the hammering of her heart. She had no choice but to be forthright, had no option but to be courageous, for who else in the situation was to be so? She could not think of her mother, for she was already terrified and weeping, and given the pistol in the highwayman’s hand, Elizabeth did admit to being fearful for their safety.
“Iwill step down from the carriage.” Lifting her chin, she clasped her hands tightly together so that he would not notice them shaking. “And because I have done as you bid me, you will leave my mother as she is.”
The highwayman’s smile slipped a little.
“You show a good deal of spirit, my Lady.”
“Will it be enough to satisfy you?” she challenged, refusing to remove from her seat until he had agreed to her request. “Leave my mother as she is.”
