Mr. Charles Townsbridge, having seemingly recovered from the shock of encountering Matthew here, frowned. “Where the hell have you been and what was so important you had to abandon my sister the day after your wedding?”
“I, um...” Matthew looked around, frantically searching for some quick means of escape. “I have to go.”
“Hold on one moment.” Mr. Townsbridge’s frown deepened while he gave Matthew a closer inspection. “Unkempt appearance. Ruffled clothes. No hat or gloves. By God, man! Have you been staying here all this time while she thought you had travelled on business?”
“No. Well, yes. I mean–”
“Which. Is. It?”
“I really don’t have time for this, Townsbridge. I have to find my wife.”
“And so you shall. Right after this.”
The force of his brother-in-law’s fist landing squarely against his jaw made him stagger. A burning ache spread through his cheekbones, leaving no doubt in his mind it would bruise. Gasps could be heard from those who’d witnessed the altercation.
“Pull yourself together,” Mr. Townsbridge snapped while flexing his fingers. “You look a damn fright.”
“No thanks to you,” Matthew grumbled even though he knew well enough he’d deserved the blow. “Now I really must go. My valet just informed me your sister set out along the North Road this morning. Apparently, she believes I’m at one of my four estates and has determined to find me.”
“Christ, you’re an idiot.”
“I won’t dispute that, but right now I must–”
“Tell Mr. Partridge that Mr. Townsbridge won’t make the meeting after all, would you please?” Mr. Townsbridge told the clerk behind the front desk.
“Very good, sir,” the man said. He stood and waved for another man to approach.
“And also,” Mr. Townsbridge continued, “I need a note sent to Number Ten Berkley Square informing my wife that I have travelled with the Duke of Brunswick and that I shall be home as soon as I can.”
“I’ll see to it,” the clerk assured him.
“Excellent.” Mr. Townsbridge handed the man a few coins and stormed back outside into the pouring rain with a, “Let’s go,” directed at Matthew.
Matthew hurried after him toward a black, unmarked carriage. Instructions to take the North Road were delivered to the driver together with an order to stop at every posting inn they passed along their way. As soon as this had been accomplished, Mr. Townsbridge climbed into the vehicle. Matthew followed. His already soggy clothes clung to his body. Cold wetness started to pool beneath him on the bench. A shiver raked his entire frame. If only he’d thought to bring a greatcoat.
“Don’t look to me for sympathy,” Mr. Townsbridge said when Matthew happened to catch his gaze. “In my opinion you deserve a good bout of influenza - the sort that will keep you teetering at death’s door for a couple of days before you recover.”
“How magnanimous of you to hope I survive.”
“Don’t think for one moment I wish you well for your own sake,” Mr. Townsbridge murmured. “I simply don’t wish for my sister to be made a widow.”
“Of course.” Matthew gave his attention to the window and the grey exterior beyond. Even though he was finally doing something - acting, as it were - he’d never felt more out of control. His heart beat frantically while tension gripped him so tight he could barely breathe.
“Would you please stop that?” The startling sound of Mr. Townsbridge’s voice after nearly two hours of silence made Matthew flinch. “Tapping your foot will not make this carriage move the least bit faster. If anything, it will only increase my desire to strangle you.”
“She told me she loved me,” Matthew stated. It seemed so ridiculous now that those words had scared him away when they ought to have done the opposite. “I’m afraid I panicked.”
“Hmph. Well, I don’t suppose you’d be the first man to do so, but bloody hell, Brunswick. You’ve been gone for over a month without a word. And all the while you’ve been cooped up a mere mile away from your house. You’ll have to forgive me for not understanding what in God’s name you were thinking.”
“Sarah will,” Matthew muttered. Whether or not she’d be capable of forgiveness was quite another matter.
Mr. Townsbridge just gave him a baffled look and shook his head. The silence between them resumed until they reached the first posting inn. Matthew almost tore the carriage door off its hinges as soon as they rolled to a halt. He leapt down onto the muddy ground and ran inside the establishment only to learn that the Brunswick carriage had indeed passed there a few hours prior but that it had stopped only for a change of horses.
Swearing so violently the innkeeper raised both bushy eyebrows, Matthew returned to the carriage and related the information to Sarah’s brother. “It will be late before we catch her. Perhaps you would like to return home while I continue the search?”
Mr. Townsbridge gave him a hard stare, then slowly nodded. “You’ll move faster if you hire a horse to ride. Is a good one available?”
Matthew went to inquire and was instantly shown to the stables where he picked out a fine looking stallion. When he returned to the carriage with the horse, Mr. Townsbridge stepped down and removed his greatcoat.
