If Montaguehadgone there, it would be bold of him, but it would probably work. The retainers there knew him, and if he said he had come with Nathanial’s favour, they would most likely believe him.Especiallyif he had Theo in tow.
Using his cane, Nathanial hobbled out of the house and back into the carriage. “Leicestershire,” he ordered. “As fast as you can. Spare no expense.”
“Very good, Your Grace.”
Nathanial settled back against the leather seats and closed his eyes.
As Theo had predicted, the hunting box was not nearly as small as its name suggested. In fact, as they approached, it lookedrather more like a small country house, with six large windows at the front and two Grecian pillars crawling with ivy.
It was, however, unhelpfully in the middle of nowhere. Good for hunting, no doubt, but rather less felicitous for escaping. Trees surrounded the house on all sides, and although they had passed signs for Melton Mowbray, which she surmised to be a town of some size, it was not close enough for them to reach easily.
“Remember,” Sir Montague said, his fingers gripping her shoulder tightly. His face had grown steadily paler as the journey had continued, but aside from changing horses and a quick meal, he had stopped for nothing. “We are here with Nathanial’s approval and he will join us later.”
She shrugged his hand away. “And if I should not play along?”
His mouth was a thin, white line. “Don’t try me, Theo. The servants are frail, and my patience is running low.”
Gone was the almost effortless charm from earlier. This was not a man for whom forbearance was his primary feeling.
The carriage stopped and he opened the door. With considerable effort, judging by the way his nostrils flared, he descended the steps and held out a hand for her. She glanced at the front of the house, but the housekeeper was already toddling towards them, and there was nothing she could do but accept his assistance.
His fingers tightened around hers in clear warning.
“Master Montague,” the housekeeper puffed, holding out her hands to him. Sir Montague had briefly explained that he and Nathanial used to visit often, but Theo hadn’t expected the housekeeper to be quite so pleased that he was here.
She scowled.
“Mrs Clayton,” Sir Montague said, taking her hands with a smile that almost banished the darkness in his eyes. “Mr Clayton.”
Mr Clayton, presumably, also emerged from the front door and shuffled towards them. According to Sir Montague, they had been tending to the hunting box as long as he could recall. Or perhaps, Theo thought uncharitably, since the dawn of time itself.
“We weren’t expecting you,” Mrs Clayton said, her rheumatism-twisted hands giving Sir Montague’s one last shake before turning to Theo. “And you must be the Duke’s bride.”
With Sir Montague’s gaze on her, Theo dropped a slight curtsy and held out her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Aye, and pretty behaved she is too,” Mrs Clayton said approvingly. “Come in, come in. Is the Duke with you?”
“He’ll be coming shortly,” Sir Montague said. “Tomorrow, I believe.”
“Oh, well, we’ll have to hire a serving girl from the village, or maybe two. Take the trap now, Tom.”
Mr Clayton nodded. “Yes, dear.”
“And a manservant, if you would. I think Peter in Scalford would do nicely.”
Theo stored Scalford away for later perusal. Perhaps it was closer than Melton Mowbray. Could she find a way of driving the trap there herself?
“Now, you stay seated in here with the fire going, and I’ll put fresh linen down,” Mrs Clayton said, ushering them into a small drawing room. The fire was puffing with smoke, and as soon as the housekeeper left, Sir Montague prodded it. More smoke billowed into the room.
Theo folded her arms. “What now?” she demanded. “Am I to be your prisoner?”
“You are my guest.”
“In my husband’s house.”
“You will be gratified to know how soon I anticipate his arrival.” Sir Montague lowered himself into a chair, his leg stiff. Through the rip in his calfskins, she noticed the bandage he’dwrapped around himself was stained with blood again. “Sit down,” he said, the sharp edge of impatience in his voice. “You will gain nothing by standing around.”
Theo held her ground. “Why, will you hurt me if I don’t do as you say?”
