Adrian ignored his question, only giving his driver a stiff nod before turning his attention to Farley. After their conversation yesterday, Adrian was sure that the servant had a good head on his shoulders and could be trusted. He willed his pounding need to die down as he talked to the other man, knowing he needed to seem his usual, composed self.
“I see you made it back,” he said stiffly by way of greeting.
“Yes, Your Grace,” Farley answered readily. “The carriage wheel is fixed, and the rain has started to slow. All should be well for your travels back to London tomorrow.”
“I am afraid I cannot wait until tomorrow,” Adrian replied, turning his gaze back to Bran. “Certain matters require me to return to London immediately. Are you fit to drive?”
Even if Bran answered no, it didn’t matter. Adrian would drive himself back if he had to. What he could not do, however, was stay under the same roof as the woman he was falling for.
Though he looked tired, Bran immediately sat up straight and gave a single, absolute nod.
“Of course, Your Grace,” he readily replied. “I am at your service.”
“Good man,” Adrian said with a nod.
He then pulled out his billfold and handed Farley several pounds. Farley’s eyes widened at the money, but he accepted it.
“What is this for, Your Grace?” he asked.
“For your inconvenience,” Adrian replied. “Your lady is upstairs sleeping behind the last door on the left. Instead of getting your own quarters, I want you stationed out there, ensuring that no one tries to enter. Do you understand? Then, when she wakes in the morning, I want you to take her home. Before you rest, I want assurance that she has made it back. Can you do that?”
Respect shone in Farley’s eyes before he bowed his head to Adrian.
“I swear it, Your Grace,” he answered in a solemn tone.
Adrian clapped him on the back as he gave a stiff nod.
“Come, Bran,” he said next, turning to his driver. “It is time to go.”
Damien had been right, Adrian realized as he left with Bran. He was losing his mind over another man’s wife, and it needed to stop.
Yet with every inch of distance he put between himself and Bridget, his body begged for the exact opposite.
He pressed his knuckles tightly to his forehead as the carriage took him farther away, wondering what on earth he had gotten himself into.
Chapter 15
“Adrian?”
Bridget rubbed her eyes, feeling confused and strangely lonely as she looked at the empty side of the bed. She sat up, looked around, but found no proof that Adrian had even been there aside from the still nearly full bottle of whiskey he had purchased from downstairs.
“Adrian?” she called again, louder this time.
A soft knocking came from the bedroom door, causing Bridget’s heart to leap unexpectedly. She threw the blankets off her and hurried to the door, unable to stop the smile on her lips. Yet it froze when she opened the door and found not Adrian, but Farley standing there.
“Good morning, my lady,” Farley greeted politely with a bow.
“Good morning,” she replied, her smile fading as she looked her driver up and down. Then, realizing that she was being rude, she forced her smile back into place.
“I am very happy to see that you made it out of the storm,” she added.
“Thank you, my lady,” Farley said with another slight bow of his head.
“Might I ask, though, why it is that you are outside my door?” It was on the tip of her tongue to ask where Adrian was, but she feared the inquiry would be inappropriate.
“His Grace needed to leave rather urgently,” Farley explained. “He requested that I stay by your door until you awoke, then get you home posthaste.”
He then pulled a hand from behind his back, revealing a small burlap sack as Bridget felt her heart sink.
