She looked up, and to his amazement it wasn’t tears he saw in her eyes; it was laughter.
“Their mother!”she said between giggles.“You should have seen your face when the slapping started.”She turned to Flynn.“And yours, sir—I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Flynn,” he said.“Daisy Chance is my wife.”
“Oh, dear Daisy,” she said.“I hope we didn’t worry her too much.”
Flynn didn’t answer.He just shook his head and glanced at Marcus.
Tessa laughed again.“Such tough and ruthless men—and theywereterribly ruthless, I could tell—but both in so much awe of their mother.”
Flynn shrugged.“A pretty ruthless mother, I would have said.”
“I think you will find that the correct term is Muvver,” Marcus said carefully, and they all laughed.
“What I would give to meet her,” Tessa said.
“Shall we invite her to our wedding?”Marcus suggested dryly, which sent her laughing again.
They fell silent again, but after a moment, Tessa turned to Marcus.“What are we going to do about Joey?”
“What do you mean?”
“We can’t let him continue spending so much time on the streets.He’s bound to get into trouble.When I think of him clinging to my kidnapper’s carriage ...”She shuddered.
Marcus nodded.“I know.I’ll give it some thought.”
They reached the House of Chance and found Daisy pacing up and down in front of her shop.The carriage had barely stopped when Flynn leapt down.The worry wiped from her face, she raced to him and he immediately scooped her up.Marcus wished he’d done the same with Tessa, but years of having gentlemanly behavior drummed into him had prevented him.Besides he wasn’t sure that after all she’d been through she would appreciate being manhandled.Not by him, at any rate.
Peering over Flynn’s shoulder as he carried her into the shop, Daisy Chance called out, “Glad to see you’re all right, Lady Hewitt.”And Tessa waved back, smiling.
“A fond couple,” she said, and Marcus glanced at her.Was that wistfulness he heard in her voice.Should he scoop her up and carry her inside when they reached Alverleigh House?
But no, he was too stiff and proper for such a thing.He knew it, and he cursed his rigid upbringing, but she would probably be embarrassed by such a departure from his usual demeanor.No, he couldn’t be other than he was.
She seemed remarkably calm after her ordeal—even making jokes and laughing.Marcus was stunned by how calm she seemed.Most women would fall apart after such an experience.“Weren’t you terrified?”he asked her.He certainly had been, terrified on her behalf.Even now, after it was all over, he wanted to sweep her into his arms and hold her tight.But she sat in the coach, looking out quite calmly at the passing scene, not shaking or shivering and with no sign of tears at all.
She shook her head.“No, I was angry, more than anything, especially when one of them kicked me.”
“Hekickedyou?”Rage swamped Marcus.How dare that swine kick her!He wished now that he’d given him a greater hiding than he had.
“Yes, but I thought he was Edgar.Or one of his men.”
“You thought he wasEdgar?”he echoed.
She shrugged.“Edgar could be violent when he was angry.And he’d been severely thwarted, you know, by your rescuing me from that wedding and spiriting me away so he couldn’t find me.I knew he’d be furious.”
Marcus wished he’d beaten Edgar to a pulp as well.
“So, because I thought the kidnappers were Edgar’s men, I was more angry than frightened.I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, not really.I knew he would have needed me for some plot or other.”
“I see.”It helped to know she hadn’t been truly frightened, but thatnot reallystill angered him.
“So, was Oliver Greeling correct?”she asked after a moment.“That you were the one who sent Edgar to America?”
He’d hoped she’d missed that, but it was time to admit the truth.“Yes, I got rid of him.I thought it was best.”
“I kept wondering why he hadn’t come after me.It was very unlike Edgar, so I thought something drastic must have happened.You didn’t kill him, did you?”There was a faint note of doubt in her voice.
