“Yes, my lord. Follow me, please.”
They were led back through the front room and up the stairs. The corridor had six doors. They followed the innkeeper to the last door on the left. “’Tis facing the back gardens, so quieter for you.” The man opened the door and ushered them inside. “I will send a maid up to warm the bed. Will you be needing any vittles from the kitchen?”
Malcolm glanced down at Adeline, who shook her head. “No, we are fine for tonight.” Once alone, he pulled Adeline into his arms. She rested her head on his chest, and he took a deep breath. The startled reaction to his arrival had been strange but perhaps not so out of place since it was true that he hadn’t come home since his brother passed.
“What an oddly dramatic reaction to your name. Do all those people downstairs live here in the village?”
He shrugged. “I suppose they must if they were so surprised to see me.”
“And those three men got up and left rather quickly after we arrived.”
“I noticed them, too. Don’t worry, they weren’t the same men who pursued us in Sailsbury. They must be locals off to spread gossip.” He shook his head. “I am so tired. I don’t care who says what tonight. I will deal with all the speculation and details tomorrow.”
Adeline peered up at him with that pensive look of hers that meant she was thinking hard about something. What he said was true; he was too tired to think about being Kingsbury. It still felt pretend, much like his calling Adeline his wife. But hopefully, sometime soon, he would be able to make both of those titles genuine.
He slid a finger down the slope of her nose. “Let’s go to bed.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The next day,Adeline woke to early dawn light peeking through the curtains and Malcolm’s warm hand brushing down her cheek. She turned her head and kissed his palm.
“Care to take an early morning walk with me to see the manor?” he asked.
“All right.” She pushed her hair out of her face and sat up.
Malcolm slipped off the bed; he was already dressed. “I was going to go myself and let you sleep but…” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I don’t want to go alone.”
His expression was so sheepish Adeline wouldn’t have denied his request for all the gold in England. “Of course. Let me get dressed.”
Malcolm acted as her lady’s maid, helping her don a warm woolen dress and her muddy half-boots. She quickly pinned back the top half of her hair and grabbed her knit shawl. At the last moment, she picked up her carpet bag. At Malcolm’s questioning look, she said, “I don’t think we should leave it behind at this point. It’s safer with us.”
Outside, the air was chilly, and the sky dotted with gray clouds. The early morning sun peeked out above the horizon. Malcolm grasped her hand in his as they walked down the lane and out of the village. Kites Croft was tiny; as she walked through, she spotted a bakery, a butchery, and a haberdashery, and she counted maybe a dozen homes. The inn was also the local tavern. But there was no tailor, milliner, or even a bookshop.
“What is the local industry?” she asked.
“Most are farmers, fishermen, or smugglers.” He shrugged. “I admit I have not paid attention to crop reports or really anything about the estate. I was fifteen when I became the marquess and was immediately shipped off to the navy. It was easy to ignore correspondence sent to me when I even received it. Lord Hartwick appointed the land manager and the solicitors. Everything has run on its own for a long time.”
“Are you now interested in taking up the title properly and knowing what is happening here?”
He sighed. “Yes. I guess. I know I can no longer ignore my responsibilities.” He squeezed her hand. “It’s not far, about two miles. We can stroll leisurely.”
They walked for about half an hour through endless green fields, listening to the growing sounds of the sea, until, around a bend, the coastline appeared. It stretched out in front of them, rugged cliffs dropping straight down to the surging water, dramatic and beautiful.
“Oh, Malcolm, it is breathtaking.”
He stared out at the sea, his expression pensive. Then he turned from the view. “Bridestone Manor is this way.”
She followed him, his grip tight on her hand as though he needed their connection. The manor soon came into view—a large structure made from stone with peaked roofs and mullioned windows. They walked up the graveled drive and stopped next to a large fountain that no longer spewed water. She glanced over at Malcolm. He dropped her hand and walked closer, staring up at the house.
The bushes and flower beds were overgrown with weeds and bramble. Vines of ivy climbed the front of the house. The atmosphere was one of neglect and abandonment. She walked up to a window on one side of the front door. Cupping her hands, she peered inside and was not surprised to find furnishings covered in sheets; the room was empty except for portraits on the wall staring back at her.
She backed up, careful not to trip on vines and debris on the ground. She shaded her eyes, and squinting, looked up at the peaked roof of the west wing. Was that smoke coming from the chimney? Adeline turned to ask Malcolm if he could see the smoke and found him gone. Well, not entirely. About a hundred feet or so ahead, his tall figure walked briskly down the drive the way they had come.
Adeline put her hands on her hips. What was happening? She hefted the carpet bag and trudged after him. Turning back at the fountain to gaze up at the house one more time. Yes, that was definitely smoke coming from the chimney. And was that the flick of a curtain? Perhaps the caretakers lived here?
She continued after Malcolm. The house had to be the cause of his strange mood. He admitted that he had not been home since he was a boy, but the reason must have been more than his time in the navy. Something else had put the sadness in his expression as he stared at the manor.
When she finally caught up to him, he lay on the grass, staring at the sky. “Malcolm, are you all right?”
