She even spared a thought for Sally, who, despite her relatively calm countenance, must be experiencing anxious feelings to say the least.Her arrival back in the village would not be comfortable in the slightest, Beatrice wagered, given that she was engaged to one man and—so it would seem—bedding another.
But Sally would have to figure out her mess on her own.
Because Beatrice would only have time for addressing the crisis of Mr.Gordstone.And any spare energy would be totally absorbed by Leith.
The sky had darkened again.But Beatrice recognized the quality of the dark.
“Do you recognize our location?”Leith asked, quietly, as Sally was sleeping.
“Yes.We are almost there.”
“I look forward to meeting your mother.And brothers,” he added.“Although I wish it were under happier circumstances.”
“Thank you.They will all be overawed by you.None of them spend any time in anything like superior society.Well, my mother did, in her youth, but that was long ago now.”
He took her hand.
“It will all come to rights.We will dispatch Mr.Gordstone.I am not going to let anything happen to you or your family.”
Beatrice flinched at his aura of authority.She did not want to be outmastered in her own home.
Even though a small, traitorous part of her was soothed by his presence and his handsome words.
“Let me speak with him.You may help if it is necessary.But it will not be.”
“I have agreed,” he said, his tone a bit more diffident.
But then they cleared the forest.And in the moonlight, Beatrice could see it.
Her home.
“Parkhorne,” she said to Leith, looking out at the large stone edifice, wondering how the place that meant the most to her in the world must appear in his eyes.“We’re here.”
Chapter Thirty
When Leith firstsaw Parkhorne Hall, his first thought was that the place reminded him of Beatrice.
In the moonlight, the large stone building appeared austere and not a little beautiful.Even as they came down the long approach, the place looked faintly untouchable, as though they would never quite reach it.
The land around the hall was for farming—it had none of the manicured parks or hedges seen on aristocrats’ estates.But the house itself had clearly been built, at one time, to impress.
Nevertheless, despite its faded state, the estate had an unusual charm, one that Leith knew from his time amongst lords and their manors, could not be bought or forced into being through improvements.It felt like a place where many things of import had already come to pass.
“It was built in the fourteenth century,” she said.“By my ancestor, Ronald Salisbury.”
“It has been in your family for that long?”
“Yes,” she said.And in that small word he heard a great many things that she did not say.
After what felt like an age, their coach made its way through the central drive and up to the manor.
“Sally,” Beatrice said, rousing her sister.“We’re home.”
The girl blinked her eyes dreamily and looked out at the house.“So we are.”
“Come,” Beatrice said, as Charles opened the door to the carriage and handed her down.
Leith followed her, feeling unaccountably nervous, not an experience that he had often as a marquess.
