Chapter 28
Eyes heavy, Juliet stared out at the darkness beyond the carriage window, too tired to think straight. The glow of a nearly full moon illuminated the countryside, casting eerie shadows over the hedgerows and open fields. It’d been five hours—maybe six—since they’d left Bedford, so it had to be after midnight.
Her head bobbed with the rhythm of the wheels against the road, making it hard to stay awake. She shifted against the squabs, determined to keep her eyes open. Across from her, Mr. Russell had dozed off miles ago, leaving her to stand vigil—or sit, as was the case. Not that she needed to, but it seemed the right thing to do, especially since Mr. Parker and Henry were deprived of even lolling their heads against the inside of a carriage wall.
Mr. Parker’s horse trotted slightly ahead of them, his silhouette black and stiff in the saddle. Henry hung back a bit, riding alongside the carriage, his greatcoat billowing around his horse’s flanks. He rode like a man holding himself together one breath at a time. His head dipped every now and then. He had to be as weary as she. But he pressed on, a commanding pillar atop his mount. Unshakable and solid. The kind of man she could trust with her life.
The kind she wanted to belong to.
“You love him, do you not?”
The question crept out of the darkness, quiet and startling. Her head whipped towards the opaque outline of Henry’s father. How could he have possibly seen the longing on her face at thiswitching hour? Could he even now detect the dark red that was surely blooming on her cheeks?
She clenched her hands in her lap, willing her head not to duck or turn away. “You are very bold, Mr. Russell.”
“I would not be a successful entrepreneur if I were not.” Amusement laced his voice.
“Nor would I be a well-bred lady if I were to answer you, though I suppose that status could be called into question, being that I am currently traveling unchaperoned with four gentlemen.” Her lips quirked into a smirk.
“I see why my son is attracted to you.” His teeth flashed white in the gloom. “Yet I cannot help but ask what it is about him that draws you?”
“Henry is …” Unbidden, her gaze slipped back to the very man they spoke of. How to finish that? Noble? Stubborn? So handsome it stirred something reckless inside her?
“He is stalwart and loyal,” she said simply, knowing full well the description didn’t cover even a tiny portion of his virtues.
“Mmm,” Mr. Russell rumbled. “I should say Henry is too self-sacrificing for his own good, condemning himself for things outside his control. Though he tries, he is unable to right the wrongs of this wicked world.”
She turned to him, eyes wide. “Surely you do not fault him for Charity’s situation? He has done nothing but do his best to protect her in your absence.”
“No. I find no fault in that, but rather … Well, I suppose I should say he is given to a certain well-meaning habit. One that’s been ingrained in him since he was a child.”
Aha. There was a story here. She leaned forwards. “Does this have to do with the time he called you and your wife home from a business trip?”
He gave a grunt that might’ve been a chuckle. “He told you about that night, eh?”
“Just the broad strokes. As I recall, a hedgehog and some loose shutters were involved.”
“And a supposed ghost haunting the manor.” He looked out the window, silent for several moments. “My wife and I came home from France expecting chaos. Instead, the night I arrived I found two frightened little souls under one blanket, shivering in the parlour like leaves in a storm. Henry’s arms around his sister, eyes big as moons. I’ll never forget the way he looked up at me, like he’d failed somehow … like it was his job to keep the darkness out.”
Juliet’s throat tightened.
“After I explained away his fears to nothing more than circumstance instead of supernatural activity, he felt ashamed. I told him all was well, that no harm had been done. But somehow he believed I was angry.” Mr. Russell’s voice deepened with emotion. “He couldn’t have been more wrong. I was grateful.”
Juliet tilted her head. “Grateful?”
He gave a soft huff of breath. “My son’s letter didn’t pull me from something important. Itwasthe important thing. I came home, not because I had to, but because it reminded me why any of it matters. My children needed me. And when I found them under that blanket, so frightened …” His throat moved up and down as he swallowed. “That was the first time I realized my son had a protector’s heart. He was just a boy, but by heaven, he would’ve taken on the world for his sister.”
Juliet’s breath caught.
“He’s never quite shaken the guilt of that night, has he?” the elder Russell said with a faint smile. “Thinks he wasted my time. But what he really did was show me the kind of man he was becoming. I’ve never been prouder of him than in that moment.”
“He is a good man, Mr. Russell.”
“That he is.” Turning aside, Henry’s father stretched out his long legs at an angle and thus, evidently more comfortable, fell back into silence.
But not for long. Soon thereafter, the driver called, “Easy now, girls,” and the carriage slowed to a halt.
Juliet frowned. “Why are we stopping?”
