Unlike the day before, she decided not to dress as a maid, but in the full grandeur of her station. She had chosen a copper silk dress with gold embroidery, silk bronze-dyed gloves, and gold jewelry that complemented her honey-brown eyes. It was by far her boldest gown and one she never had the courage to wear before—until today.
“Your protests have been heard, Farley,” she said briskly, stopping before the carriage door. She looked at him with an air of authority and nodded toward the door. “And ignored.”
Farley’s look of discomfort grew deeper, but he reached out and opened her door for her.
“The Duke of Redgrave was most insistent that I not take you anywhere else that could cause damage to your reputation,” he said in a last-ditch effort to dissuade her.
Bridget paused with one foot in the carriage, caught between annoyance and excitement at the mention of Adrian’s name.
Unbidden, her mind conjured the memory of his strength, the way he had loomed over her in the alley, his voice dark and commanding as his presence had pinned her in place. The thought of being held there again made her breath hitch and her thighs press together beneath her skirts. Mortified by the vividness of it, Bridget realized that her face had turned red.
“Does the Duke of Redgrave pay your wages, dear Farley?” Bridget found her voice.
Farley bowed his head in defeat.
“No, my lady,” he answered quietly.
“Does he remember your birthday? Give you gifts? Have soup brought to you when you are feeling ill?” Bridget questioned.
Farley’s look of guilt grew worse.
“No, my lady. It is you who shows me such kindness,” he answered in the same quiet tone.
“Then off to Alfriston we go,” she said matter-of-factly, as she finished climbing into the carriage. “Though I do appreciate your concern for me.”
Farley’s smile was small, defeated as he bowed respectfully toward her, then closed the carriage door. A moment later, the carriage was pulling away from the Winslow Estate’s drive, heading south to make its way out of London.
In the quietness of the carriage, Bridget’s thoughts, just as they had the night before after she had returned home, drifted to Adrian once more. It was only after she had stripped out of the ruined dress and sunk herself into the bath that she fully realized how much danger she had put herself in yesterday. If he had not shown up, what would have happened? Would that Tommyfellow have dragged her inside? Would he or the other men there have believed her protests if she had explained that she was actually a countess and not a courtesan?
She shivered, thinking about the possibilities. Then a different sort of shiver took over her as she recalled the spark of heat she felt every time Adrian had grown close to her. The thought of any other man being so close made her stomach lurch in discomfort, but Adrian’s proximity made her feel something else entirely.
“Stop it,” she murmured aloud to herself. Though even as she spoke the chastisement, she noted how the shame she had felt for such awareness the night before had lessened considerably within just a few short hours. So what if she found the Duke of Redgrave attractive? It was not as if anything would actually happen between them. In fact, she was almost relieved that shewasattracted to someone. Her lack of feeling for her own husband had at times concerned her; it made her wonder if she could even feel such things at all.
The sudden lurch of her carriage had brought Bridget’s spiraling thoughts to a halt, and she clung to the seat just as she was about to be pitched forward.
“Farley!” she called. “What is the matter?”
The door to her carriage flew open, and she was greeted with Farley’s worry-filled eyes.
“Is all well?” she asked.
“I am afraid not, my lady,” he said, helping her out of the carriage.
“We have a broken wheel, and we are right in the middle of the country road that leads to Alfriston,” he explained.
“Meaning what, precisely?” Bridget asked, hurrying around to the opposite side of the carriage.
Her shoulders slumped, and her heart sank as she saw the damage. Then, as if that were not enough, a distant sound of thunder rumbled from above.
“It means that it is an equally long walk to London or Alfriston for help,” Farley answered glumly.
Bridget fought the urge to groan and drop her head into her hands.
Could I just have one thing go my way?
“Come along then,” Bridget said with a sigh. “Let us walk on to Alfriston. At least if we head in that direction, we will not lose any progress.”
She started to walk, but to her surprise, Farley grabbed hold of her wrist and frantically replied, “My lady, no!”
