“Whom I choose to love is none of your business, although you seem to have made it so over the last five years. The man I chose to shelter here for a few days has been suffering from the effects of a concussion Max gave him when he knocked him down in the driveway.”
“A Marine taken down by a dog? Pon my word!”
Harriet threw him a deadly look that forestalled whatever he was about to say next. “Max lunged at him from behind in the dark. The poor man was merely returning Nana after she’d been in the midst of a brawl at a tavern in Falmouth.”
“Speaking of Max, where are those devil dogs and Nick? They always attack me as soon as I enter the lodge.”
“Nicholas is working on his speech with Lieutenant Bourne and Captain Thorne at the cottage. Max, Fleur and Thomas are with them.”
His mouth dropped open at that bit of news, but he didn’t complain.
She steered her overbearing cousin into the family sitting room when they reached the main part of the lodge and pulled the bell to ring for tea. She pointed toward the comfortable, overstuffed sofa. “Sit, your Grace,” she said, and he obeyed, despite the mulish expression on his face.
8
Captain Thorne’s front door lay in pieces on the ground. Richard had put that task at the top of his list. He knelt and hammered reinforcing boards onto the inner side. He’d sent one of the footmen at the lodge into Falmouth to find new hinges, and he’d made a new stoop out of spare pieces of wood.
He was finishing up the final items on his list to help Thorne make his cottage more secure, since Nicholas would continue to come there for his speech practice after Richard was gone. And he would be gone, because he knew his time with Lady Blandford and Nicholas was fast coming to an end. His duty lay with his ship, Marine Captain Neville, and the new recruits Sergeant Dawson seemed to have been signing on like some sort of mad pied piper. The gods only knew what he’d promised the lads.
Richard was determined to see the lady and her son safe, but he knew his limitations. Captain Thorne was a true friend and would defend her with everything he had, but his chronic rheumatism made even simple movements difficult, let alone active defense of the boy and his mother. If only there were someone else he could rely on. He considered having a talk with her son’s footman, but realized that would be a serious overstepping of his responsibilities.
Loud whistling of the familiar Grenadiers’ march floated across the morning air. He whirled and faced down the winding track leading to the cottage. A larger-than-life man steadily climbed toward him and shouted a loud “Halloo.”
Richard reached for his shirt and jerked it on over his head just as the tall, solidly built stranger approached. He hoped to God he was a friend and not a foe, because he looked like a sandy-haired mountain on the move.
Taking a wary stance on the balls of his feet, Richard flinched when the giant instead extended his hand. “Cornelius, Lord Sidmouth, Lady Blandford’s cousin. And you must be First Lieutenant Richard Bourne?”
Richard nodded and gave an abbreviated bow. “Your Grace.”
“No formalities, please. This conversation is between you and me. I want to know how soon you expect to return to your ship and leave Lady Blandford in peace. I don’t want to have to involve the magistrate, or, God forbid, the Admiralty.”
“Since you admit this is strictly between you and me, I would like to know howyouplan to keep the lady and her son safe from her former brother-in-law.”
The expression on the giant duke’s face went from genial to warrior-like in the space of a few seconds. For a moment, Richard feared the man might attack and pummel him to the ground.
But instead, Sidmouth leaned back and broke out into loud hoots of laughter. “If you aren’t a bully trap, I’ve never met one.”
Richard said nothing, but crossed his arms and stuck out his chin. “They’re sitting ducks here, just waiting for someone to attack them. The dogs are all well and good, but no real match for men bent on taking the boy and hurting him, or his mother.”
“From what I hear, Max had no problem takingyoudown.”
“Andyouallowed Nicholas to be taken while you were supposed to be protecting him.”
Richard matched the duke’s glower and clenched fists. “Would you like to see how I handle an adversary one-on-one?”
The giant smiled and shed his jacket followed by his shirt.
Captain Thorne kepta wary eye on the two men in his courtyard. He’d been concerned at the belligerent looks on both of their faces, but when the shedding of upper garments had begun, he turned to Harriet’s footman, Thomas.
“Run,” he said. “No time to harness the cart. Get Lady Blandford here. I’ll take care of Nicholas and the dogs.” Thomas, who had also been watching the exchange between Sidmouth and Lieutenant Bourne, set off at a sprint out the back door of Rose Cottage and through the woods down the hill to the lodge.
When Thomas pounded on the door of Harriet’s sitting room, she took a quick look at him, disheveled, in shirtsleeves, and sweating profusely. She didn’t wait for an explanation. She knew Sidmouth had gone to Rose Cottage to confront Richard. From the looks of her footman, the meeting had gone badly.
“Have one of the grooms ready the carriage. I’ll meet you at the stables.”
Harriet hurried to her bedchamber and selected the dark muslin work dress she usually reserved for baking days. After exchanging her slippers for sturdy half-boots, she grabbed her bow and quiver of arrows from the corner where she kept them ready to hand.
When she joined Thomas at the stables, he said nothing about the weapon she carried, but merely quirked an eyebrow. He helped her up the steps into the cavernous family carriage and then closed the door and stepped back.
