He bowed to her, and was gone, leaving her with nothing to do but wring her hands and pace about the room in abject terror.
19: Strathinver
Robert found Embleton pacing about the inn yard, shouting at the ostlers.
“What is the problem?” Robert said.
“They are reluctant to lend me a riding horse without a postilion to lead the way.”
“Perhaps we should take a carriage instead? I should be glad to come with you.”
“That would take even longer,” Embleton said tersely.
“I do not see the need for such haste,” Robert said equably. “Either Lady Euphemia is at Harraby Hall or she is not, and ten minutes sooner is neither here nor there.”
Embleton stilled, hands on hips. “You are right,” he said slowly. “I am b-being irrational, I s-suppose.”
“You are being a brother who is concerned about his sister,” Robert said. “Perfectly natural. You there! Forget the riding horse, and put a pair to Lord Embleton’s carriage.”
That was an order the ostlers were well trained to comply with, and within a very short time they were on the road. Robertcould not honestly say he was thrilled by this, for he would far sooner be sitting in the parlour with Olivia, a glass of wine in his hand and her sweet face before him, but if it spared her a little worry, he would do it gladly.
Although her concern for Lord Embleton brought him a worry of his own. Would she have been just as concerned if it had been anyone else potentially tearing off to call a man out? If it had been Robert, for instance? Was her fear merely for an acquaintance? Or was there that deeper fear, driven by affection… by love? That was too dispiriting a thought for words.
Embleton sat stony-faced and silent in the carriage, his anger still close to the surface, but Robert was more optimistic than he had been since they had left Leicestershire. A visit to a sister about to be confined was so very far from the elopement they had all feared that his spirits were quite lifted.
“I wonder if this is what Lady Euphemia intended all along,” he ventured. “She never said it was an elopement, after all.”
“If she had wanted to visit her sister, she had only to ask,” Embleton said tersely, his anger still keeping his stutter at bay.
“Lady Olivia thinks that she likes to play games… to tease. She might have thought it a good joke.”
“She still ran away in the middle of the night with Grayling,” Embleton said. “She needs whipping! As for him, what was he thinking? He cannot imagine I would ignore this.”
“Still, if she is safe at Harraby Hall, then—”
“Ifshe is safe, then perhaps I shall only box her ears.”
“And she has had Miss Grayling with her as chaperon, and her own maid and footman.”
“Two girls of eighteen cannot chaperon each other, nor are servants adequate protection for a duke’s daughter,” he said haughtily. “You would not think so if it were one of your own sisters.”
Robert could see that the marquess was determined to maintain his anger, so he gave it up and the rest of the journey was accomplished in silence.
The carriage had no sooner drawn to a halt before the entrance steps to Harraby Hall than several servants ran out, followed by a very agitated Lord Harraby. His face fell when he saw the marquess.
“Embleton! Well! I thought you were —”
“Is Effie here?”
“Yes! Locked up for the sanity of all of us.”
“And Grayling?”
“Gone away, very disgruntled. Will you—?”
But Embleton had already gone inside, taking the steps two at a time and barking orders to the nearest manservant.
“Well!” Harraby said, turning to Robert with a wry smile. “Kiltarlity. Are you here about Effie too?”
