Soon enough, she came quietly down the stairs, hoping to leave with as little fuss as possible. She had said farewell to her brother the night before and insisted he need not rise to see her depart.
Harris had other ideas. A duchess must be sent off properly with great helpings of grandiose service. “Your carriage awaits, Your Grace.” He bowed and gestured. Footmen made a great show of carrying out her meager luggage, an overloaded hamper of food appeared, and much bobbing and thanking ensued.
“I see Harris has things well in hand.” David, perfectly groomed and serene, came down the stairs. He gave her a peck on the cheek. “I know you’re anxious to be off, but I’m glad I didn’t miss you. I don’t know what pulls you to Ashmead, but come back, Madelyn. Come soon.”
Sister and brother gazed at each other for a moment before she murmured, “I will. I enjoyed it more than I expected.” She didn’t give voice to theperhapsbehind her words. She nodded to Harris, who swept the door open with a bow.
At last. She walked out onto the steps and stopped short.
The Clarion traveling carriage waited for her as expected. Clarion eyed it with disapproval, no doubt biting back criticism for her dismissal of Ellen. Not expected were the two men standing next to it, dressed for riding, their mounts saddled and ready. A young man she recognized as a member of Rob’s security force, Corporal Goodfellow, grinned at her. Colonel Morgan’s sober expression dared her to object.
Brothers who believed they could make decisions for her were the very devil. As to Colonel Morgan, an escort for the evening was one thing. An interfering, overbearing man was another.
*
Hopping mad.Atleast Brynn presumed that was what the glower marring Her Grace’s beautiful face meant.Thank God Clarion came down with her. Let him handle it.
Indeed, the lady spun on her brother, hissing words Brynn couldn’t hear but could guess at. The earl spoke quietly back, holding his ground.
“But why Colonel Morgan?” Brynn heard that demand clearly enough. The earl seemed to be giving her the tarradiddle they had concocted about business in Ashmead. She did not appear to be impressed.
She pulled herself up, lifted her chin, and sallied forth with a regal frown. She paused at the door to the carriage and the patient groom waiting to help her in and glared at Brynn. She ignored Goodfellow, though her words were for him as well.
“I travel fast, with few stops. Two nights on the road at most. I trust you can keep up.”
Two could play the game. Brynn gave her an elaborate bow. “As Your Grace wishes,” he said to her back. The door slammed, and she pounded on the roof to depart before he could scramble to mount.
The woman proved as good as her word. If her carriage hadn’t needed to change horses, she might have driven them through the night. Clarion had hired decent hacks and sent ahead for changes, but Brynn had cause to waft a prayer of gratitude for the stamina of his own mount.
By the time the blasted carriage came to a halt at a respectable, if not superior, inn, Brynn estimated they had covered over fifty miles and even Corporal Goodfellow sagged in relief.
Her Grace, of course, possessed too much dignity to appear ruffled or to run to the necessary. She even accepted his hand to assist her down. “I bespoke a room here.” She raised an eyebrow. “One. I didn’t expect a nursemaid.”
He ignored the gibe. “I’ll see to it. Then I’ll bed down with the grooms.”Like the rest of the servants.
While she saw to her personal needs, he demanded a private parlor and dinner, tempted to make it dinner for two. Her irritation over the interference of the men in her life may have abated enough to allow for civil conversation, but he feared not.
The stubborn woman doesn’t want men ordering her life no matter how well intended their actions. For his own part, Brynn didn’t want to argue with her, didn’t want to discuss Glenmoor while he was exhausted. What sort of dinner conversation would that be? Better to not risk it.
Liar. You’re afraid to be alone with the lady. She’s your only real temptation.
Staring at the ceiling of the grooms’ quarters when men snored around him, he knew he had been right. He attempted to force the regal image of Her Grace, Madelyn Tavernash, née Caulfield, Dowager Duchess of Glenmoor in high dudgeon into his exhausted mind. All he saw was the vulnerable face of the woman he’d found in the shadows of Willowbrook after her brother’s wedding.Madelyn…All he wanted was to protect and cherish her.
He rolled over and punched his pillow.Fool. It’s like trying to embrace a hedgehog.
*
The Clarion travelingcarriage rolled through Ashmead long after dark, passed The Willow and the Rose, and crossed the bridge over the Afon River before lumbering up the hill toward Clarion Hall. The inn, like the rest of the village, slumbered in darkness, a single candle blinking in the window to greet late-arriving guests. Maddy sat alert and watchful past familiar sights cloaked in shadows. The moon, once again, shone obligingly, nearly full.
When they reached the fork in the road where one branch led left toward Willowbrook and the other led right toward the hall and Maddy’s precious refuge, Colonel Morgan sped up to pass the carriage. The interfering man would insist on going first. He would probably expect to examine the house for intruders, as if her loyal Esther hadn’t been there the entire time. Maddy racked her brain to think of words to stop him but found none.
Too weary to prevent Morgan’s interference, she sank back against the squabs and waited after the carriage came to a stop, picking over her grievances.His intrusive behavior…She stifled the thought. Morgan was no worse than her brothers and probably acting on their orders. She didn’t believe he would dare on his own, and oddly, some long-forgotten part of her seemed to revel in it. As she sat in the darkened carriage, Maddy’s confused feelings ran rampant. She hated men interfering in her life, so why did Colonel Morgan’s protective behavior warm her right down to her stylish new half-boots?
The carriage door opened, and an imperious hand reached in for her to take. “The house appears safe.” Morgan’s curt statement and angry tone reignited Maddy’s irritation.
“Of course it is. In any case Jessop is perfectly harmless.” She took his hand, momentarily distracted when the feel of it sent an electric shock up her arm to pierce her inmost being. She couldn’t have said if the reaction came from her soul or her body, but it held her in thrall to the feel of his nearness.
“Perhaps you best speak with your housekeeper before you are so certain of that. She greeted me with an ancient dueling pistol.” His stern gaze and the ache from muscles stiffened by the long ride had her irritation surging back. She dropped his hand as if it burned.
