“Only the Assizes deal with murder, and the judges will not be on the circuit again until next year.”
“Oh! Thank God!” Relief flooded through her, leaving her weak and barely able to stand. She would be in time to save him, her poor, deluded Tom.
***
Edward watched Tess as the miles rolled past, her eyes seeming huge in her white face. She had said very little, and that only pertaining to the journey — how long would it take? And where would they rest overnight? He had answered her just as briefly.
Now she gazed out of the window, but he knew she was not even seeing the fields with their stone walls, the villages they passed through or the hills on the horizon. Her mind was fixed on Tom Shapman. She did not cry, but occasionally her eyes would fill with tears as some unhappy thought intruded,and then she would blink rapidly and look down at her hands, smoothing her kid gloves, or the skirts of her travelling pelisse.
Such a determined little creature, seemingly so selfish and absorbed in her own affairs, yet her feelings ran deep. So complicated, so puzzling, so contrary, but so intriguing. And not boring! To a man jaded by the stultifying lifelessness of London society, Tess was a howling gale of vitality, energising Edward as nothing else had done in all his twenty-seven years. He felt alive for the first time, wanting nothing more in that moment but to do whatever would please her. He had begun by disliking her intensely, yet now that he saw her suffering, all his protective instincts were aroused. However strong she appeared to be, inside she was still fragile.
At the first post house, as their own horses were detached and hired teams with postilions were hitched to the carriage, he said gently, “There is food in the hamper, if you are hungry.”
“Thank you, but no.”
“Coffee? Tea? A glass of wine? Or just a rest. They have parlours here.”
“No rest,” she said. “I know he will not be hauled off to be hanged for months yet, but I do not want to delay.”
“I understand.”
Once they were under way again, he ventured to say, “Tess, are you quite sure he could not have done it? It would be very odd to hang for a crime one did not commit.”
“He imagines he is protecting me, I suppose. What an idiotic thing to do!”
“Protecting you? How? Does he imagineyoukilled your father?”
She looked at him fully, then, a little frown marring her smooth forehead. “He must know I did not, just as I know he did not. We have been friends for two years now — more thanfriends — and we know each other well enough for that. But I cannot imagine why else he would confess.”
“We will find out when we see him,” he said easily.
“Yes.” She gave him a tremulous smile. “You will come with me to talk to him, then?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you! You are very good. I know we have not always got along as well as we should, but I could not be more grateful for your help and support now.”
“Say nothing of it, I beg you. Do you suppose I could sit tamely at home and leave you to rescue your self-confessed murderer single-handed? This is an adventure, Tess, and I want my share of it.”
The smile was wider, then. “Thank you,” she said, a little shyly. “I cannot tell you how comforting it is to have a man to arrange everything… or what it costs me to admit that.”
He laughed out loud at that. “A man’s loud voice and imperious presence can be very useful, it is true. The coat of arms on the carriage door does not hurt, either. But since we are being honest, let me acknowledge that I find it surprisingly pleasant to have a lady to take care of. I must have danced with every unmarried female in town over the last three years since I came into my title, and not met a single one who is not boring and dull and downright insipid. But you are not in the least insipid, my dear. In fact, I am never sure from one moment to the next what you will get up to, and I am quite certain that I have barely scraped the surface of your many mysteries. And perhaps that is part of my wish to accompany you back to Corland — it gives me an opportunity to uncover some of your secrets.”
Tess only smiled enigmatically, and turned her head to look out of the window again. Beside her, her maid Betty raised her eyebrows at this conversation, and chuckled a little.
***
Had they left earlier in the day, and the roads been tolerable, and no mishaps occurred, the journey to Corland could have been accomplished in a single day. As it was, they stopped at Northallerton for the night, where Tess ate nothing and arose so pale of face that Edward presumed she had not slept, either. They set off at an early hour the following morning, but they had reached the area recently gouged by summer storms and their progress slowed abominably. It was therefore almost the dinner hour before their carriage, its wheels and horses liberally plastered with mud, drew up outside Corland Castle.
Tess was out of the carriage and tearing across the bridge into the house as soon as the steps were let down. Edward followed more slowly, with a glance of distaste at the austere frontage of the castle. It was imposing, of course, but unlike many castles, it was not an original Norman edifice. It was newly built, designed to look as if it had been there for hundreds of years, but inside fitted out with every modern convenience. Not for Corland the oppressive gloom of echoing stone, and narrow spiral stairs. Instead, there were soft carpets, fashionable wallpaper and a wide, elegantly branched staircase.
In the entrance hall, he caught a glimpse of Tess, already whisking away into the interior. The butler greeted him with a slightly puzzled, “My lord?”
“Lord Tarvin,” Edward said helpfully. “Last here for Lady Isabel’s wedding.”
“Of course, my lord,” the butler said, bowing. “A room will be prepared for you at once.”
“Where did Miss Nicholson go?”
