She hadn’t really expected her plea to work. He had been so brittle this morning, as if he were even more anxious than Ares to be gone from her. Even so, she held her breath, held his gaze, held perfectly still. And bless him and all the angels, he reached for her and gathered her to him, wrapping her like a precious gift in his arms. She didn’t even realize he’d dropped Ares’s reins. She was too intent on his face lowering to hers, on the scent of him, horse and leather and something citrus. And Beau. The scent she could identify in a downpour, in a snowfall, after years apart.
She was too overwhelmed by his kiss, gentle at first, quick dips across her lips. Deepening, darkening, developing like a symphony, his mouth soft, his cheek and chin smooth, his breath warm in the chilly morning. She opened to him before he even asked, and he entered. He met her, tongue and teeth and lips, plundering the soft recesses of her mouth as if collecting a memory to carry with him. For just a moment she lost herself. For just a moment, she let herself hope when she knew better. Too soon he pulled back, dropped a quick kiss on the tip of her nose, and grinned.
“Behave yourself now.”
Which was when they realized he had dropped the reins. Ares had made it to the side of the house where Hawkins held him, his own face directed to the dormant bushes.
“Thank you, Hawkins,” Beau said, stepping away completely without Pip’s permission. “I think I can safely take possession again.”
And so, still tingling, her heart racing and her throat tight with more tears, she was left there in front of the little Dower House as Beau rode off without so much as a look back. And blast it if she didn’t suddenly suspect he did so to make sure Pip was left with no illusions. And no desire to follow him.
She would go to Delamere. And then she would decide what she would do next, Beau or not.
“You can retrieve the coach now, Hawkins,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself against the cold that seemed suddenly so much sharper. “It is time I parted from the duchess.”
Hawkins was the one who told her that Beau’s aunt and uncle had set off as he was retrieving her coach.Oh, excellent, Pip thought, making sure Macha was safely tied to the back of the coach.I’m quite certain we shall all be quite convivial.
Even so, she let Hawkins help her into the crested coach the duchess had lent them drawn by four of her prettiest bays. Joyful and Sullins sat across from her, the luggage was strapped to the top, and Robbie was tucked on the floor, grinning with the adventure of it all.
“You promise her gracefulness will tell my ma as soon as can be,” he begged Pip.
“I promise.”
“I don’ suppose we could camp at your grandma’s instead,” Joyful asked very quietly. “Mr. Beau’s people don’ like people of my color and have never made no bones about it.”
Pip straightened, outraged on Joyful’s behalf. “They have said so?”
Joyful gave her a look as if she were as credulous as a child. “Now, Miss Pip. You know they’d never talk to me except for, “move aside” and “why are you here?” while checking out the room to make sure nothin’s missin’.”
“Well,” Pip retorted with steely determination, “since I now outrank them both, and since you are my personal servant and beholden only to me, I would say that if it comes to that, I would be more than happy to show them exactly where my priorities lie. And since Beau has decided he would rather be in London, I would say that gives me the complete authority, wouldn’t you?”
She might be feeling a little better. Especially when Joyful grinned.
That lasted until they reached the hall to find the duchess waiting for her out on the shell drive. Pip immediately wanted to cry. She wanted to lay her head on the duchess’s shoulder and tell her all the travails of the day.
“Off leader’s not walkin’ right,” coachie suddenly announced as Pip was being handed down. “Need to take ‘em to the stables.”
The duchess looked surprised. Reaching the drive, her hand in Billings’, Pip just smiled. “We do have a way to travel today. Please make sure all is well.”
And Robbie is tucked away in the stables with Hawkins and Clancy to watch over him.
“Well then,” the duchess said, her arms wide, “That gives us some time for tea before you go. I am sorry to have missed Drummond.”
“He was too, ma’am,” Pip said, winding her arm around the duchess’s and turning for the front door. “He asked me to pass his thanks along with mine for your generosity, and especially the staff you sent to help us. They have been wonderful.”
And resourceful, she almost added.
Pip and the duchess had a lovely tea, joined by Lizzie and her two younger sisters, saying nothing at all to the point about the goings-on at the Dower House. Maybe someday Pip would be able to share the absurdity of a seventy-year-old widow becoming the local contact for smugglers. Maybe someday she would be able to tell the story of what had happened in that Dower House this week. It would make a cracking good story.
She had just shared her hope of being able to accept the duchess’s invitation for Christmas when Billings stepped into the room. “Excuse me, Your Grace. Lady Drummond’s coach is ready.”
“Thank you, Billings,” Pip said, climbing to her feet.
One did not hug duchesses. Pip did hug this one and was hugged back.
“I will miss you all,” she said, wrapped in those gentle arms.
“Nonsense,” the duchess said with a pat on the head. “You’ll be back for the holidays and steal your room back from Margaret.” Wrapping her arm around Pip’s shoulder, she guided her toward the front hall. “And don’t worry about our little friend,” she murmured for Pip’s ears alone. “Billings filled me in. He shall be quite fine.”
