The companion had the good sense to shrink back at the knowledge that he knew of her duplicity. Magpie gave a growl.
“As for your whist partner,” he continued, “I am returning her to London for her own safety.”
“Safety? What is going on?” Lady Orpington demanded, the ribbons on her lace cap bouncing with her curiosity. “They say there is a fire. They all ran to see it.”
She wasn’t a bad sort. She had served a purpose. He took her hand in his. “It’s just a cottageon the property. And thank you for your help, Lady Orpington.”
Her brows lifted. “Did you solve the mystery? Did you find answers?”
“Yes, and I am at peace.”
She gave him a motherly smile, then abruptly turned, shifting her dog in her arms. “Well, Vera, what is he talking about? What do you know about my missing coach?”
Beck didn’t wait to listen. There was no porter at his post on the landing. Beck imagined every available male servant was needed at the cottage. Soon everyone would know that the marquess had died. Collapsed, they would repeat. Probably overcome by smoke from the fire... or whatever gossip would be concocted. They might even make him sound heroic. But that would be their tale, not his.
Beck wanted nothing from the Chaytors save for two things.
He walked into the library. The room was dark. He looked out the window, but he couldn’t see the fire.
He was not a sentimental man. He prided himself on being practical. So he took what truly belonged to him. He lifted the portrait of his mother from its place on the wall. Then he went downstairs to the larger library and removed the portrait of his family. He tucked the two paintings under his arm, and he left Colemore, never to return again.
By the time he reached the stables, Jem hadthe horses ready. Gwendolyn was still wearing the hooded cape Lord and Lady Middlebury had used to disguise her.
She noticed the portraits and smiled. “To London?” she asked.
“Most definitely,” he replied.
Chapter Twenty
Beckett, Gwendolyn, and Mr. Wagner rode through the night.
On the ride, Mr. Wagner proved to be a colorful character who kept them all awake by telling stories of his and Beckett’s adventures on the Peninsula.
“No better officer to be found,” he informed Gwendolyn. He leaned toward her to confide, “Major doesn’t like hearing me say that, but we lads all loved him. He never asked anything of us that he wouldn’t do himself. Stood beside us, he did. Even Wellington respected him. Saved the battle for us at Nive.”
“And earned a bullet to my head,” Beckett replied dryly. He had tried to stop Mr. Wagner’s stories several times. The compliments seemed to embarrass him. He was not one to shout his own praise, another quality about him that Gwendolyn admired. She was much the same.
“Aye, a shot that started the dreams,” Mr. Wagner noted soberly. “Did you find your answers, sir? Is it an end to the dreams?”
“Did you overhear anything that was said this past night?” Beckett countered.
“Nothing I would repeat, sir.”
Beckett smiled. “You are a good and loyal friend, Jem. Thank you for your help.”
“’Tis my honor, sir.”
They parted company with Mr. Wagner around Charlton.
After that, they silently made their way to Dara and Michael’s home. Mr. Wagner’s conversation had been entertaining, but she and Beckett didn’t need words to fill the silence. His presence alone was enough for her, and he seemed to feel the same. They rode in perfect accord.
They arrived at Dara and Michael’s home in time for breakfast. To Gwendolyn’s surprise, her whole family—Dara, Michael, and Tweedie, along with Elise and her duke, Winderton, who had apparently recently returned from Ireland—were gathered around the table. She knew she looked a mess. She still wore the gown from two days earlier. After being trussed up several times and kidnapped, there had been no time to change. She held Beckett’s hand and greeted her sisters, daring them to say something.
They all rose to their feet. There was a long, stunned pause, and then Dara asked, “He liked the new riding habit, did he?”
Gwendolyn thought that so funny, she almost choked on her laughter. Beckett joined her, and then her sisters and Tweedie, and finally a confused Michael and Winderton, were all practically rolling on the floor with good humor.
“It is a long story,” Gwendolyn told her family. And then she turned to Beckett, and without preamble said, “We are going to marry.” She didn’t ask permission or offer any of the niceties.
