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Chapter Seven
Broden did indeed speak to the two hostelries. Much to his disappointment, he learned nothing more than Liam had during his inquires. He’d even queried at the livery stable and the three other pubs in Eddleshaugh.
No one had noticed anyone unusual lurking about. Except for Oswald, that was. The lanky solicitor was hard to miss. His contempt for the locals had been palatable and earned him no kind words or warm recommendations after his departure.
If only Broden knew what his long-lost cousin several times removed, Edwin Archibald Wiggins McGregor, looked like. He could’ve then described the man he was fairly certain had attempted to kill him.
Except, as he’d reflected earlier, Edwin may have hired someone to do the job.
Likely, had done so, and that made tracing the cutthroat much more difficult. Impossible, in truth.
Broden, Liam, Camden Kennedy, and Bryston McPherson were to leave in in two days for Sommerley Parke House. Broden bristled at the delay, but the other men needed time to prepare for their absences. Keane, the Duke of Roxdale, conveniently had business in England and had made arrangements to meet Broden in London.
Roxdale knew his way around the city and was acquainted with several members of Society, as well. And he’d promised to introduce Broden to their elite circles.
He’d rather be lashed.
A missive was sent ahead, notifying the Countess of Montforth of his pending arrival. That was what he’d been about the day someone had tried to kill him—posting the letter. But considering how irregular the post was, he wouldn’t be surprised if she weren’t aware of his coming until he stood at the door, surrounded by his Scots friends.
Hmm, that might send the unsuspecting woman into a swoon.
As he strode the path from the stables after relinquishing Sheik to the stable boy, he contemplated his future. The earldom had plunged him from the comfortable, uncomplicated life he’d enjoyed into something quite foreign. Unwelcome.
He felt slightly adrift.
His mother didn’t seem affected one way or the other about their newly elevated station, and to his relief, she’d acquiesced to remain at Eytone Hall in his absence. The Dowager Baroness Penderhaven had eagerly agreed to lend her expertise in suggestions about furnishings and servants. Liam’s man of business had conceded to make an offer for Glenawayshire, too.
At least Mother would have something to occupy her time while he was away, and perhaps, she wouldn’t fret overly much.
The women had even summoned the local seamstresses to begin working on a new wardrobe for her. Nothing too elaborate, she’d insisted. Liam had suggested Broden visit a tailor while in London, as well.
He supposed his position required a few of the fancier togs men of his rank wore, but by God, nothing with ruffles, lace, or in colors more fitting for tropical birds or stage actresses with questionable reputations.
He’d just rounded the corner beside the tidy hedgerow when Kendra exited the rear of the house, her hood pulled over her hair. Carrying a basket, she moved swiftly, with purpose, and it only took him a moment to realize she was headed to the stables by way of another pathway.
Before he left for Sommerley Parke House, he must speak to her about their kiss.
A fortnight or more was too long to wait to have the discussion. Honestly, Broden wasn’t sure what to say. It shouldn’t have happened. But it had, and now he must decide what to do about it. Ignoring their embrace wasn’t an option. Doing so could very well create a bigger chasm between them than what had been there before.
His raging desire for Kendra had grown every time he saw her in recent months, but until he’d inherited the earldom and she’d kissed him so eagerly, he’d never seriously considered a union between them. But now…?
It wasn’t just her beauty that drew him. Though her brilliant gray eyes in a diamond-shaped face, a nose as impertinent as she was—a small pointed chin just as stubborn, too—with skin so pearly smooth, he’d wondered more than once if she used cosmetics, left him breathless more often than he’d care to admit.
Neither was it her effervescent wit, lively conversation, or a figure so lush and delectably formed, he kept his hands balled a great deal of the time when around her to resist reaching out and testing the curves of her flesh. Yes, each attribute contributed to her allure, but that didn’t—couldn’t—explain his obsession with her.
The appeal, he’d decided while laying sleepless again last night, was the whole of her, each a piece of a perfectly constructed puzzle. Incomplete without all the other unique pieces, but when assembled, brilliant and breathtaking beyond compare.
As yet, there’d been no opportunity for a private conversation. Although she didn’t deliberately avoid him as she’d done in the past, he couldn’t help but notice that neither did she allow them to be alone.
Did she fear he’d try to kiss her again?
Hell, he was afraid he would.
No, he knew he would.
Reversing his steps, Broden aimed for the opposite side where the boxwood hedge opened onto the expansive, rolling greens. Kendra emerged from behind the shrubberies, and he increased his pace.
“Kendra,” he called. “Please wait.”
