“I think I shall order Lady Talavera saddled for a dawn ride. Then I will meet you at the edge of the wood beyond the stable where you will be waiting with the portmanteau. I shall strap it to my saddle, then be off.”
“Ye gonna ride the whole way?” she asked incredulously. Leona thought a bit. “That may not be wise. Too, I do not want to be accused of horse theft along with everything else!”
“All right, I shall ride to Axminster and from there hire a chaise to carry me home. I believe I have more than enough money. If not, there are always my mother’s pearls.”
“No, miss, ye wouldna!”
“There you are wrong, Betsy, I very well would indeed! I am determined I shall not stay another day in this house! I am more in danger here than I ever could be at Rose Cottage, particularly when one considers that there are more types of danger than mere physical danger! The physical danger I can handle. It is the other that has me quaking.”
“Oh, Miss Leonard, ’tis truly sorry I am to see ye go.”
“Thank you, Betsy. I shall remember your lone voice, for it is certain that no one else can feel that way. Look at the mess I’ve made of Lady Lucille’s betrothal ball! And she was so looking forward to it.”
“Don’t ye worry, Miss Leonard. It’s people wots more important, and Lady Lucy knows that.”
Leona thanked her again, then adjured her to go quickly to Lady Lucy’s room to fetch her things before anyone came upstairs.
Leona did not get much sleep that night. Her thoughts raged within her head, angrily snapping and snarling like two dogs over one bone. The bone of pride was tossed and flung about in the air as the two halves of her mind raged. One part argued to stay at Castle Marin, to face down her detractors. The other parturged her to leave Castle Marin, to flee back to what she knew best: her duty to her family, for however long it was accepted.
In the end, it was Deveraux’s words that tipped the scales toward her leaving. More precisely, his cold neutral tone when he demanded she tell him what she was doing up at the keep, and then his blasé attitude when he heard it concerned her brother Charlie. One moment she was treated as coldly as the commonest criminal, and the next, she was virtually dismissed as unimportant. It was the outside of enough! She could no longer stay under the same roof as Mr. Nigel Deveraux.
Sometime later, as she lay alone in her wide bed staring up at the silk-swagged draperies, she realized she heard music. It was the musicians. They were playing again. Good, perhaps Lucy would be able to salvage a portion of her night. Regardless, Leona was confident Lucy would long remember her betrothal ball. And so would many others! She laughed silently, then stopped as she bit her lower lip.Including me!she thought, tears welling in her eyes. She remembered how tenderly Deveraux had held her against him as he led her back to the house. A lone tear spilled out of the corner of her eye and slid down her cheek.
It was still dark when Betsy woke her. Leona was surprised she’d even managed to fall asleep and very much doubted she’d slept more than two hours. Still, with her blood tingling with excitement at her plans, she shook off the last remnants of sleep.
“Most everyone’s abed, miss. Cook’s up with one of her scullery maids, as is Jason, the footman, and Miss Jewitt. I saw her brewin’ some tisane for Lady Lucy, sayin’ her ladyship was havin’ troubles sleepin’ with the excitement. I said ye was, too, and ye hit upon a notion to go ridin’ to finish tirin’ ye out. She seemed to unnerstand ’cause she deigned to unbend so far as to say as how fresh air might do the trick better’n her tisane.”
“How clever of you, Betsy! I had thought to make my ride a secret, but this is even better. Now no one will be surprised ifthey do not see me for hours. Why don’t you go visiting your mother today, say I said this was a good day. That way, you will not be asked needless questions later, and you shall not have to lie.”
“Oh, dear, miss. I don’t know as how I could . . . . But I’ll think on somethin’. They’ll learn naught from me, that I promise ye. Will ye be leavin’ a note or anythin’?”
“Yes, I suppose I should, at least for Maria and the countess. While I write them, take this portmanteau down with you to the back door, then go out to the stable and order Lady Talavera saddled for me. . .. And thank you, Betsy, for everything. I’ll meet you at the edge of the wood about twenty minutes after I’ve ridden out of the stable yard. Will that give you enough time to come back to collect the portmanteau from the back door and meet me? . . . Good. Now hurry, go!”
Leona was five miles down the road on her way to Lion’s Gate by the time the last of the nighttime mist burned away under the morning sun. Only faint traces of pink still glowed on the horizon, remnants of the vivid reds that streaked the sky as Leona accepted the portmanteau from Betsy’s hand and buckled it to her saddle. She looked back then at Castle Marin, a pang of longing clutching her stomach. She ignored it and resolutely set her face north toward Lion’s Gate.
She worried about her reception at Axminster and the ease with which she would be able to find a carriage to convey her the rest of her journey, for she was unaccompanied.
The innkeeper named an outrageous price, but after only cursory dickering, Leona agreed. True to his word, the horses were swift and the driver capable, though the carriage was not nearly as well sprung as the Earl of Nevin’s. Still, that did not prevent her from dozing, and it was around noon that the carriage drove into Crawfords Dean, setting her down, at her request, at the Golden Goose Inn.
Mr. Tubbs was surprised to see her descend from the carriage, but he admirably kept his silence at a signal from her that she did not want her driver to overhear them. He led her into the private parlor, saw her comfortably settled with a bracing cup of tea before he reluctantly agreed to sit down across from her to discuss the situation.
“Charlie’s married, Mr. Tubbs.”
“Charlie! I mean—Mr. Leonard! He’s married?”
Leona nodded. “I just heard it last night. He’s going to bring his bride to Lion’s Gate soon. I came back ahead of Miss Sprockett to begin preparations.”
Mr. Tubbs canted his head, his lips twisting. “I’ve known you for many a year, and that’s a fact, Miss Leonard, and I can tell when you’re not speaking clearly. There’s more to your tale than you’re saying. But I know my place. Just remember. You need help, you come to ol’ Tom Tubbs right quick.”
She laughed misty-eyed. “Haven’t I always?”
He grunted agreement, then drew his bulk out of the chair across from her. “I’ll have Abraham fetch your Molly from the field and harness her to the trap. Be ready for you in a trice.”
“Thank you. And thank you for taking care of her while I was gone.”
Discomforted with her gratitude, he grumbled and shrugged, bringing a broad smile to Leona’s mouth. It was good to be home.
The same thought came to her when she drove up before Rose Cottage. She sat still for a moment, studying the sturdy, thatch-roofed cottage. Plants around the house were beginning to show signs of green and red tips where buds formed. By summer’s end, the house would be a brown and white island in a sea of riotous color. In the evening, with the windows open, the most fragrant breeze would float inside the snug little house.It would be time for Maria to harvest for the potpourris she enjoyed making.
