After retelling the afternoon’s drama for Mr. Benson, their patriarch, one more time—Brynn allowing Rob credit for heroism in front of his father and Rob declaring he’d rather shoot from the weeds than stand eye to eye with a monster like Jessop—all agreed they were glad Jessop’s threat had been removed.
“And what of the duke and his brother? The tales Jessop told will get out, you know,” the innkeeper said.
“Aye. That they will. Daniel Kendrick will be the next Duke of Glenmoor, God help him, but what they do in the meantime remains to be seen. Still, the two of them seem to be coming to good terms,” Brynn replied.
“Lady Madelyn seems fond of them all,” Rob said.
Brynn stared at his drink.Fondseemed too tame a word. She’d upended his life in pursuit of Gideon Kendrick, then upended Kendrick’s and Glenmoor’s in pursuit of the truth.
“Speaking of Maddy, I almost forgot,” Rob said. He pulled something from his coat and handed it to Brynn. “She sent you this.”
Brynn stared at it as if it might bite. “How was she when you left her?”
“Shaking. Claiming to be finer than she was. She insisted I bring you that. Something about a question that won’t wait,” Rob said.
Brynn turned it over in his hand, studying his name in her bold handwriting. “Couldn’t she tell you what it was?”
“Obviously not. Perhaps she feared to shock her brother with her wanton requests.” Rob wagged his brows at Brynn, earning a scowl.
“Don’t be daft. This is the duchess we’re talking about.”No. Not the duchess. Maddy.
Brynn unfolded the missive. The message it contained was brief and clear:Did you mean what you said about Chelsea, or were you blowing smoke at Jessop?
What had she heard him tell Jessop?“If I did that, then I wouldn’t have a house to put her in.”A house for Maddy. A home for them both.
His unseeing eyes fixed on the paper while shards of thought, pieces of dreams, and fragments of feeling shifted, rearranged themselves, and fell into place. He looked up into the faces of the two men watching him avidly, downed the rest of his ale, and pushed the mug aside.
“I believe I will go on up to Clarion Hall tonight after all,” he said.
*
He didn’t come.When David told Maddy Brynn had ridden for the coroner, she assumed he would return. He did not. Lucy and Esther clucked over her until she demanded they stop. She refused to let anyone call for Farley, allowed Esther to clean and rebandage her wound, and invited Lucy to spend the afternoon with her in the nursery. The children, she insisted, needed assurance and distraction.
When Maddy and Lucy relieved Gideon in the nursery, he rode out with Phillip. Soothing worried children was important, but Maddy could do that. The brothers needed time for conversation. Too many witnesses had heard Jessop’s allegations. There would be no keeping their secrets now.
When Helen got weepy, Maddy dried the girl’s tears. When Daniel clung to her skirt, she reveled in his newborn trust. She trudged through the day, caring for others and living on hope of seeing Brynn.
At nightfall she gave up the last of her hope. Brynn would not come. Eli appeared at dark to tell them that all was in readiness for the inquest and that Brynn had stopped at the Willow, sending Maddy’s heart into a downward spiral.
Dread took the place of hope. David absolutely forbade both Lucy and Maddy to attend the inquest and was met with vociferous objections, but the next day would be fraught with bad memories and nerves no matter where she spent it. If Brynn left without seeing her, she might die a little. She agreed with all and sundry that she needed sleep.
Chapter Forty
Brynn came toa halt and stared up at Clarion Hall, dark and locked up for the night. There would be a night porter at the front door, unlikely to turn him away, since Brynn was, after all, a guest, if a rather tardy one. He should knock softly, slip the porter a vail, and climb confidently up the stairs.
Then what? Slink into the family wing and hope you don’t encounter Clarion prowling about before you reach Maddy’s door? Will she welcome me?He believed she would, at least as far as him answering her question about Chelsea. What happened after that would depend on her reaction to his answers.
He wandered toward the east garden, wondering if the kitchen door was open, or perhaps those French doors off the drawing room. He could slip in that way, use the servants’ stairs, and hope he had enough stealth to avoid any servants or late-prowling earls.
He paused to study the façade, counting windows and locating Maddy’s bedroom from memory. No light shone from it.
“Not to worry, Colonel Morgan. We’re still vigilant.”
He spun around to see Goodfellow in the shadows. So much for stealth. “Jessop has been neutralized.” He blurted it out without considering his words.
The corporal shrugged. “Old habits. Besides—” Brynn heard the grin in Goodfellow’s voice. “You seem quite alert to that particular window. I warned the earl about it.”
Goodfellow and the earl suspected him? Brynn’s temper rose and threatened to boil over, but the corporal continued, “I warned him that room isn’t secure. Any man who wanted would have easy access up that elm by the breakfast room, to the overhang.”
