Her eyes narrowed. “Anthony, do not tell me you want your parents’ first impression of me to be this.” Again she gestured to her clothing. “Your father is a duke.”
Ballocks. He hadn’t thought of the long-term results of their showing up dirty from the road and looking as they did. “It can’t be helped. Now that we know what is afoot, we cannot wait.”
Her nose twitched. “This is not good. They will never believe I am worthy of you.”
“It’s not for them to determine your worth. You determine it. In my eyes, you are worthy of a true baron, not a man who eschews his title to roam about the country investigating people.”
She sighed, looking away. “You do not understand.”
He was sure he did. She wished to look her best for his parents, but she needed to understand that was all it was. “Then help me understand.”
Her gaze came back to his, and it sparkled with unshed tears. “They will know me for what I am.” She shook her head at him. “I am not worthy of you. I am not from landed gentry. Grand-maman lied to you and Captain Blackmore. That farmhouse where we lived in France was not where we moved to after the mansion was burned. It was the house I grew up in, and my mother before me. I am no more than the child of a farmer and a lady’s maid.”
Stunned, he stared at her. He always knew Madame Fontaine was a wily woman, so it did not surprise him that she thought to make the most of having saved the captain’s life, but for Lissato believe that her birth made a difference stymied him. She thought of herself as “no more than”? But she was much more. He needed her to understand it didn’t matter to him.
No, it wasn’t him she truly worried about. It was his parents. Pure happiness filled him, and he grinned at her.
“Are you laughing at me?”
She was so incredulous that he let his mirth out, laughing, even as he shook his head. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at everyone’s assumptions.” He cupped her cheek and gazed into her dark brown eyes. “Lissa, my father, the Duke of Roxburgh, married my mother, a shopkeeper.”
Chapter Seventeen
Lissa stared atthe man who was now her husband in absolute disbelief. First, he was middle class. Then he was a peer. Now he was both? “A shopkeeper?”
“Yes. My mother kept a shop much like the one we visited in the village of Talley on the Green, only hers was in the village of Intervale. My father was traveling through and stopped to buy a gift for a woman he was hoping to court.” He waved his hand. “It’s a long story, and my mother tells it much better than I. Suffice it to say, despite turning him down twice, she finally accepted his proposal.” He spread his arms out. “So you see? You do not have to worry. My parents will welcome you, and my father will especially because he’d given up on me ever marrying.”
She could admit, if only to herself, that it did make the thought of meeting Anthony’s parents a bit more bearable, but just a bit. “Is there other information I should be made aware of before we continue to your parents’ home?”
He sobered instantly. “Yes. I told you about the factory accident, so you know what happened. My father gets around on a wooden piece, which is not quite as distracting as my mother’s face. She has many scars, much like those from smallpox. When people first meet her, they tend to stare, so if you can avoid doing that, it would go a long way in her accepting you.”
Immediately, the tension left her. She could imagine the stares the woman must get. “I can do that.”
He looked at her a long moment before nodding. “Yes, you can. Now, we need to get there as soon as possible to confer with my father.”
He was right, of course. Even now the king’s life could be in danger. “Then lead the way.” She held her hand out for him to proceed.
Turning his horse around, he set a fast pace once again.
She didn’t mind the pace. Riding slow always made her uneasy, as if she were easy prey, which she would be. Back in France, it was those very people that she’d robbed.
It didn’t take long before the forest gave way to rolling hills, far different from those closer to London. As they topped one hill, Anthony slowed to a stop.
She rode up next to him to see a large, sprawling mansion. She knew it was Narborough Park. At the thought of Anthony growing up in such a place, her hands began to sweat. She’d looted places like that, not lived in them.
As if he sensed her unease, he set his hand over hers on the reins. “We’re almost there. Don’t let the size bother you. They only use one wing now.” He let go. “Come. I’ll race you to the gate.”
Before she could argue, he was off. Immediately, she set her horse to a gallop and gained on him. Just when she thought she was going to win, he pulled ahead before slowing the horse as they passed through the open main gate.
She pointed at him, not willing to look down the drive. “That wasn’t fair. You had a head start.”
He grinned. “Yes, I did. Now let’s get to the house so we can solve this major dilemma.”
Very much aware that he had called the race to distract her, she turned to face the massive stone building. Maybe they’d send her around back to the servants’ entrance.
As soon as they arrived, two stablemen came to take their horses, both assuring Anthony they would be well taken care of.
He took her hand and walked her up the five steps to the large wooden door, which opened before he could knock.
