“But milord,” cried Justin involuntarily. “Surely you can’t mean to enter White’s brandishing a brace of pistols …”
The earl’s expression caused him to swallow the rest of his words.
It was no more than ten minutes before Branford returned, a look of grim satisfaction flashing in his eyes. He spoke briefly with his coachman before climbing back into the carriage.
Justin couldn’t help but notice a spasm of pain cross the earl’s face features as he eased himself back against the squabs. Their eyes met and locked for a moment. Strangely, it was Branford who turned away to stare out the window.
The jangling of the harness mixed with the cries of the costermongers and bustle of the streets as Simms set the horses to as fast a pace as could be managed in the crowded London streets. Soon, however, the carriage was racing through the outskirts of the city.
Justin finally summoned the nerve to break the silence. “Sir, I wish to speak to you regarding our … last meeting.”
Branford slowly turned to face him.
“I truly regret having caused you injury, my lord. I meant to …”
“Don’t be sorry,” replied Branford in a soft voice. “There is a cardinal rule concerning affairs of honor—never engage in one unless you are quite ready to send the other man to his Maker.” A pause. “Never forget that if you wish to survive.”
Justin regarded him unwaveringly. “I see. And naturally, you always adhere to your own rules?”
“I missed.”
Justin allowed a rueful grimace. “You have a good many reasons to hold me in low regard, sir. But I would have hoped that you don’t think me a bloody idiot.”
Branford couldn’t repress the twitch of his own lips. “No,” he admitted. “I do not consider you a fool, Chilton.”
“Then please don’t try to fob me off with such a Banbury tale.” His eyes shifted down to his boots and his voice became more tentative. “I don’t really understand, milord … why did you miss?”
A sigh. “We both know you could easily have put a period to my existence if you so chose—and have been well rid of a nuisance. I can’t but help wonder why you didn’t.”
Lowering his lashes, Branford shifted his position on the facing seat and went back to staring out the window.
Justin had all but given up on getting an answer when the earl finally spoke.
“You have not asked me where we are going.”
“I imagine you will tell me when you see fit, milord,” replied Justin. However, he was determined not to let the other matter drop without a last attempt at getting an answer. Not only was he deucedly curious, but he was also surprised that someone as cool and self-assured as the earl was not impervious to self-doubt.
“But you are changing the subject,” he added.
A wry grimace pulled at Branford’s lips, followed by a sigh. “You may ask me that question after we have found Alex and I have had a chance to speak with her.”
Justin noted the use of his sister’s given name, and the nuance of emotion in the earl’s tone. “Very well, sir,” he replied, acknowledging that the discussion was at an end
However, after a short time Branford spoke again, almost as if to himself.
“Lord knows, I’ve acted in a remarkably stupid manner.” He raised a hand to massage at his brow. “I’ve been a complete muttonhead in regard to …”
He trailed off, shaking his head.
Justin regarded him thoughtfully. “That’s hard to believe, sir. You … well, you always seem in such command.”
“Any man can be a bloody fool at times. Remember that advice, too.” The earl cleared his throat. “But I hope you will soon accept that my faults concerning your sister were not nearly as grievous as you were led to believe.”
Justin took his time in answering. “I think that deep inside I’ve known that all along, milord. Somehow, I … I believe I can trust you.”
“I thank you for that, Chilton,” he said softly.
The silence between them seemed to lose its edge of tension, and they both seemed satisfied to dwell on their own thoughts for a time. The clatter of the wheels and the thud of pounding hooves over the country roads were the only reminders that trouble still lay ahead of them.
