He swore again, this time loud enough to chase birds from a snow-covered tree and elicit a questioning glare from his horse. As duke, he would be required to attend balls and what not. Thetonexpected a nobleman to keep a stiff upper lip and rise above inner turmoil.
Doubt and guilt warred within Robert in equal measure. The last words he and his father had spoken had been in anger, with his elder brother, Donald, as mediator.
His father had not approved Robert’s decision to fight for God and country and claimed that Robert courted danger with as much enthusiasm as most men courted women they intended to marry. Why couldn’t Robert, his father had argued, be more like Donald, who was steadfast and reliable? How could Robert explain that he needed to get out from under the shadows of his father and brother? Whenever he tried, his explanation sounded disrespectful. The easier path was to leave home for a while.
Before Robert’s brother Donald had turned eighteen and the weight of being his father’s heir bore down on him, they had been like peas in a pod. Neither could sit still and had driven their governesses and tutors mad with their constant need to explore the woods, climb trees, or race horses through their mother’s gardens. As they grew older, they grew distant and rarely spoke beyond the required pleasantries.
Grief closed like a fist around Robert’s heart. He regretted the words he had spoken to his father in anger and that he had not made more of an effort to understand the weight of responsibility his brother carried as heir. Most of all he regretted that he hadn’t stayed. If he had, maybe they would both still be alive.
A winter breeze rustled through the brittle limbs of the trees, rattling them like bones and chilling the air as Robert neared his horse. Clouds darkened and moved to blanket the sky in shades of gray.
Trinity tossed his head and whinnied as though in response to the team just passing.
He smoothed the gelding’s mane. “Have no fear, old friend. It is just the wind. You have been patient and, yes, it is time for us to leave. We both could use a warm meal and a roof over our heads.”
Robert gathered the reins of his horse and led him from the cemetery knoll to the road, awakening the aches and pains of traveling a long distance in a short span of time. It was time he joined Jeremy on the road or risked being caught out in the elements after dark.
Jeremy was the second son of the Earl of Chelsey and had inherited the stocky build and ginger hair common in his family. He had considered joining Robert in the fight against Napoleon, but he had fallen in love and married, so the notion was unthinkable. The idea was made even more remote since his elder brother was not in a hurry to find a bride and start a nursery, and someone had to provide an heir for the title and estates.
Sharp pain shot up Robert’s leg, a souvenir from the Battle of Paris, as he limped to the road. The doctor had advised him to stay longer in hospital, but Robert knew he was needed at home.
A carriage drawn by a team of four horses was parked along the roadside as Jeremy helped a woman inside. The slender lady was dressed in a green brocade traveling coat, her profile hidden under a matching bonnet. The quality of her garment and carriage suggested wealth and privilege. Had the lady stopped to ask for directions?
Jeremy’s expression looked confused as the carriage drove away. “The lady stopped her carriage to give me this bag of coins,” he said as Robert approached. “While you were paying your respects to your father and brother, I had dismounted and sat down to rest against the trunk of a tree. The lady ordered her carriage to stop and asked me if I was well. I assured her I was, but she gave me a curious smile, and handed me the blunt, nonetheless. I am aware that I’m in need of a shave,” Jeremy said handing Robert the coins, “and my clothes are covered with the grime and filth of the road, but I did not believe I looked like a beggar.”
Robert tested the weight of the purse in his hand, untied the cord around the bag, and peered inside. He drew back in surprise. “It is filled with gold crowns. A small fortune.” Scratching his full beard, he followed the direction of the carriage as it rounded a bend in the road. “Did you tell her you are a lord and in no way in need of her charity?”
“I did, but as I mentioned, I do not think she believed me. In her defense, I was not my usual, glib self. I was asleep, dreaming of my wife, Molly, and the next thing I remember was a lady standing over me, asking if I was all right. Still groggy with sleep, I was unsteady as I stood, and my words garbled.” Jeremy glanced toward Robert: his eyes wide. “The lady made me vow to use the blunt for food, a warm bed, and clean clothes. When I nodded, she bid me help her into the carriage and said good day.”
Robert looked after the carriage again, struck by the unexpected generosity of the lady who had given Jeremy the bag of coins. He had seen too little of that type of goodwill in the past few years and had lost faith that it still existed outside a church.
“I must thank the lady for her kindness and return her blunt.”
Without waiting for Jeremy’s response. Robert mounted his horse and chased down the carriage. Its speed was impressive, but not a challenge for Trinity. Robert knew this forest well. He and his brothers had spent their youth exploring every path, bend in the road, and hillside. He gave Trinity his head and the horse lengthened his stride, gaining ground. When Trinity galloped alongside the carriage, Robert leaned toward the open window for a better view.
In the dim interior light, two ladies sat on opposite sides of the well-appointed carriage. On the far side sat a lady dressed in deep purple, the shade often worn by widows. The lady one by the window sat against the tufted, velvet cushions dressed in green.
“Ladies,” Robert shouted, as he kept pace with the carriage. “Thank you for your kindness.”
The lady by the window rested her embroidered green glove on the sill and leaned toward him. She had removed her bonnet and freed her hair from the pins women often wore to hold their hair in place. It tumbled over her shoulders like flames over wood logs in an evening fire, framing a heart-shaped face in which her full lips radiated warmth and her eyes held him in their gaze.
Robert couldn’t determine if her eyes were blue or green or some combination of the two. The notion that it was a mystery he wanted to solve caught him by surprise.
She said something under her breath to the lady in purple who then shouted for the coachman to slow down.
When the carriage slowed to a comfortable pace, she turned toward him again. “There is no need to thank me, sir, but you are most welcome.” She then reached into her reticule, withdrawing a velvet bag with drawstrings. “My apologies. I thought there was only one gentleman on the road. I have more to give.”
He was lost in her smile and the musical accent of her voice. It was an accent he couldn’t quite place. He cleared his throat. “You misunderstand. I wish to return your coins. They are not needed. But I thank you for your generosity.”
She held up her hand and shook her head when he extended the purse. “I will not accept its return. Your pride might rebel against charity, sir, but your belly will thank you for it.”
He heard her grit and determination. Most women he had encountered would consider a man’s wishes above their own. The lady in green did no such thing. She believed he and Jeremy needed help, and she would not be deterred. Extraordinary. And then he recognized her accent.
“You are from the Colonies.”
Her laughter reminded him of wind chimes. “The United States of America,” she corrected.
He smiled in response. “Of course. Please accept my apologies, milady. “What is your name?”
