“At least he didn’t say my head would roll,” Monty said bearishly.
She enjoyed watching them and listening to their bickering, which was much milder than it had been earlier in the week. She imagined Monty was growing fond of his charge. She’d grown fond of both of them. That she’d never see either of them again once they parted was a dismal thought.
The rain continued, so they ate lunch in the coach. Vanessa fell asleep afterward, having not gotten enough sleep last night. But she awoke when she heard Donnan’s loud voice outside. He was shouting something to Arlo, who seemed to be having difficulty hearing him over the pounding rain.
She straightened and realized she’d been resting her head on Monty’s shoulder, but she felt his hand gently guiding her head back to where it had been as he said, “I don’t mind. Go back to sleep, Nessi. You’re not the only one fatigued by all this rain.”
Before she closed her eyes she saw Charley bundled in his fur cloak, asleep on the seat across from them. She must have slept again because a gust of damp air woke her this time and Monty was sternly saying to Arlo, who’d just opened the coach door for them, “Get the butler to open the front door so we can make a mad dash for it.”
She looked out the window next to the open coach door. It was still pouring rain, but she could see two rosebushes on either side of the wide double doors just like the ones she and her sisters had planted at their house, the mullioned windows above the entrance, the tan stone walls that rose for three stories, the two-story additions that jutted out on either side. It looked so much like her house. Could two houses really be identical?
Vanessa backed herself into the corner opposite the open door. She wasn’t getting out of that coach.
Chapter Fourteen
“WHY ARE YOU BACKINGaway?”
Vanessa stared at the hand Monty had extended to help her to the ground. Charley had already run for the house. She met Monty’s eyes now but was pretty much frozen with indecision and panic, so she didn’t move. She couldn’t go in there with him! He’d find out who she really was, which could ruin her and her family after he’d witnessed her scandalous behavior on this trip.
But when she didn’t answer him, Monty guessed, “If you’re that eager to part ways and continue your journey rather than wait for the rain to stop, I understand. You can use the coach and return it after you reach your destination. But be assured, you’re welcome to remain with us for a while. My hosts won’t mind another guest.”
But Donnan chose that moment to stick his head inside the coach to say, “That haity butler says yer trunks arrived, lass, and I’m no’ pleased that yer traveling companions appear tae have reached their destination, too.” He ended that with a distrustful glower at Monty.
“She needs a moment to compose herself, man. Big reunion and all that,” Monty told the Scot. But the moment Donnan moved away, he glanced back at Vanessa. “Well, this is a delightful surprise. So you’re either an earl’s daughter or your parents are servants. I’m leaning toward the former.”
She didn’t confirm it. Her panic was rising that a scandal would erupt if people found out she’d been traveling with his group—dressed as a boy. She evaded. “I haven’t been here for six years. They won’t recognize me.”
His eyes moved over her attire. “Or they won’t recognize you likethat.D’you really have cold feet to find out whether they will or won’t?”
What she needed was time to figure out how to handle her homecoming. “Not a’tall,” she lied, even as she pulled her hood back up over her head. “But I’m not ready to reveal myself to them.”
Monty shook his head. “And here I thought we were done with that. Suit yourself—boy.I can keep your secret.”
Her heart leapt. “Really?”
“Depends for how long. I just don’t think you’ll be able to pull it off for very long, not with family. If it’s been only six years, they’ll recognize your face.” And then he chuckled. “It’s rude to wear a hood in a grand house like yours, you know.”
Annoyed that he could tease her at a time like this, she said rather sharply, “No one will notice me hiding behind your back when they have you to look at. There are a lot of women in that house. I’ll probably be overlooked and the housekeeper won’t even offer me a bloody room!”
He burst out laughing. “Who are you mad at, me, or yourself for turning coward?”
Ignoring his hand, she got out of the coach on her own and quickly followed him into the house. Only the butler was standing in the foyer. She didn’t recognize him, but the previous one had been old and must have retired. Still she stayed behind Monty’s back. Charley, who had changed into his brown wool cloak, was looking at a painting on the wall. The Scots were helping Arlo bring in some of the trunks, which formed a puddle just inside the door, so Monty moved into the adjoining hall to get out of the way. She and Charley followed him.
She heard footsteps on the grand stairs and looked in that direction. Her heart started pounding. She quickly tugged her hood down to hide more of her face and stepped behind Monty, using him as a shield. Her mother was coming down the stairs, dressed regally for the day. The cloak-like robe, made of a light white-and-blue material, mimicked a pelisse coat, opening to reveal the stylish dark blue empire dress underneath it. But then Kathleen was never taken unaware by visitors, was always at her best and always gracious no matter who she was greeting.
Vanessa carefully peeked out from behind Monty’s back to steal another glimpse of Kathleen. God, her mother appeared not to have changed at all! She was still beautiful with fashionable blond hair artfully arranged and adorned with jeweled pins, and pale blue eyes, which were identical to those of all three of her children. Tears welled up in Vanessa’s eyes. She used to love that woman—before Kathleen single-handedly tore their family apart.
When Monty lifted one arm, she stole another quick peek at her mother, who was holding out a hand in the usual manner, to be kissed or very lightly touched by whoever she was greeting.
“I presume Lord Mont—?”
Vanessa’s shield cut in. “Monty will do, and no titles please. My ward is Charley,” he said, and lightly slapped the boy on the back. “And the shy one behind me is Nestor.”
“I am Kathleen Blackburn, Countess of Dawton. You are most welcome in my home, gentlemen. I’m surprised Prince George remembered me, it was so long ago that we met in Brighton, where he took his holidays. But of course I was delighted by his request.”
“You understand our visit is to be clandestine?” Monty asked.
“Certainly. I will not be introducing you to my neighbors, and I will try to keep visitors to a minimum. My only worry is that you may get bored. We live quietly here.”
