“Would you like me to take a look at it?” he asked.
Alex released a harried sigh. “Oh, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble! I keep thinking, it must mean something important. Papa was not one to do anything … frivolous or whimsical. It is as if he were trying to … hide something, or pass on an important message that he didn’t want anyone else to see.”
Branford couldn’t help noting that the straightforward appeal in her eyes was infinitely more persuasive than any fluttering of eyelashes or coy looks. She was quite wrong about not having any charms …
Clearing his throat, he urged the horses into a brisk trot. “Why don’t you show it to me when we arrive at your aunt’s.”
She flashed a grateful smile, then turned her gaze back to the road, again seemingly lost in thought. But this time, the silence didn’t last nearly as long.
“You sold out your commission and returned home from the war when you … inherited the title?”
His hands tightened on the reins. He nodded stiffly.
“It must have been a very difficult time for you.” She hesitated. “How was your cousin killed?”
He nearly caused the greys to break stride with cow-handed jerk on the reins. No one had ever asked about it, except Henry and Cecilia.
“I’m sorry. If you would rather not …” she said softly.
To his own surprise, he found himself answering. “My young cousin Jeremy had insisted on serving in my regiment. I had spent quite a lot of time at Riverton after the death of my parents, and being some years older, I think he … that is, we got on very well together. Neither of us had siblings.” His voice became softer. “He was … a good lad.”
Branford couldn’t quite believe he was actually talking about this. Yet somehow he kept going. “We were deployed against a much larger Spanish force. They had an artillery detachment dug in on a hill above our forces. It was wreaking havoc with our troops. I was ordered to attack with my cavalry and destroy it. Needless to say, it was an extremely dangerous assignment.” He paused, his jaw tightening at the memory. “I tried to send Jeremy back to headquarters as a courier. He wouldn’t hear of it. I . . I could have ordered him, but he would never have forgiven me. Perhaps that doesn’t make sense to you but?—”
Alex reached out a hand and touched his for the briefest moment before withdrawing again. “I think I understand exactly what you mean, sir.”
His voice now had a raw edge to it. “The charge was successful, but the cost to my men was enormous. When I foundJeremy under the tangle of mangled horses and shattered bodies he was still alive. But there was nothing I could do. His wounds were too grievous. He died in my arms.”
She didn’t speak for the longest time.
He was both surprised and grateful. How was it she seemed to have the knack for doing the right thing?
Alex finally broke the silence, but only to say, “You must miss him very much.”
“I miss him more than words can express.”
The rest of the ride to her aunt’s residence passed with both of them lost in deep thought.
Alex sensedthat something was amiss. The first few knocks on her aunt’s door had gone unanswered—and Givens, her aunt’s elderly manservant prided himself on never keeping a visitor waiting.
Biting her lip, she knocked harder and when the door finally opened open, she could see from his agitated expression that all was not well.
“What is it, Givens?” she cried. “Is Aunt?—”
“It’s Mr. Justin, Miss Alex. He’s had a bad fall from his horse. The doctor is with him now.”
She hastily undid her bonnet and pelisse and let them drop to the floor in a heap.
Branford entered behind her.
“How did it occur?” he asked.
“Mr. Justin and several of his gentlemen friends were engaging in some horseraces in the park. Apparently his saddle came undone and he fell. Mr. Hartley and another friendbrought him home half an hour ago.” Givens swallowed hard. “He was unconscious and white as a sheet.”
Alex let out a gasp and felt her heart begin to pound against her ribs. “I must go to him!” Fisting her hands, she turned to Branford. “Please excuse me, sir.”
“Of course. The matter we discussed will certainly keep until another time.”
Branford resettledhis curly-brimmed beaver hat on his head and walked down the steps of the townhouse to where his tiger was walking the greys up and down the street. But instead of mounting the phaeton, he paused for a moment, then walked around to the mews. A young groom was rubbing down an aging chestnut gelding. Branford ran an appraising eye over the horse and quickly noted it possessed neither great fleetness nor great stamina.
