“The blow from the chair I hit him with won’t hold him long,” Charles shouted as the two men urged their horses to a gallop toward the highway that led out of town.
When they reached a fork in the road, they turned away from the inn where Henri quietly packed up their belongings and prepared to lumber up the Portsmouth Road to London, happily dressed in the duke’s clothes and hat. Hours before, they had staged an argument in the inn yard designed to convince anyone who tried to follow that they had parted ways.
They picked their way along throughout the night, slowing their pace once beyond the town. At dawn, they stopped.
Rand lifted Meggy to the ground and went around to reach for Lena. The little one, still sitting in Charles’s lap, put a hand up to the duke’s cheek, smearing the charcoal. “You aren’t Rand,” she said. “I thought you were.”
Charles smiled down at her, a smile of such sweetness Rand’s heart turned over. “I’ll take that as a compliment. I’m glad you trusted me to carry you. We’re going to take you where your father won’t find you.”
Lena’s little face crumpled. “But he will. He always finds us,” she said.
Lena wolfed down the delicacies Charles extracted from his bag, although the smoked oysters puzzled her some. When the duke reached deeper and pulled out peppermint drops, her eyes lit up. Leave it to Charles to remember everything, even what we might need with a child along, Rand thought.
Meggy soothed Lena until she drifted off to sleep on the ground, wrapped in the rough blanket Rand had tied to his saddle and covered with the greatcoat Charles had stowed behind his. The night had been hard on Lena, and Meggy laid her down to rest as soon as Charles wandered off “to explore.” Rand suspected he wanted to allow them privacy.
Now Meggy stood awkwardly at some distance, chafing her arms with her hands. “Sit by me. I’m cold,” Rand urged. Cold seemed like as good an excuse as any to convince her to cuddle. He sat with his back to a tree and watched Meggy, who remained standing, still wearing his jacket. She had kept her distance since dismounting.
“You have my coat. Come sit close and keep me warm.” She obliged, and he reached out one arm to pull her against his side. “Better,” he said.
“What happens now?” she asked, her voice flat and devoid of all emotion.
“We hide. Blair won’t follow. Even if he tries, we’ve left a jagged enough trail that he won’t find us in time.”
“We can’t hide forever.” Her hopeless tone tore at Rand.
“No,” he agreed. “We have to keep you out of sight until the government can convict Blair for the criminal he is. If we don’t get him for forgery, we can have him transported for assaulting a peer of the realm. He did give His Grace a lovely black eye last night.” Rand grinned at the memory.
She nodded solemnly. “Yes. That would be better for the children, but what will I do then? He’ll still be my husband.”
“More’s the pity.” Rand sighed. “At least he won’t get his hands on the children once he’s deposited in the Antipodes. We’ll work on the married part after they’re safe.”
Meggy stared at her knees. “Where will you hide us?” she asked. “Where you have Drew?”
“Drew is running free in my sister’s nursery, enjoying my nephew’s company and enduring his tutor. I don’t know if that will work for all three of you. We’ll have to talk to—ah! Here comes the Under-Secretary of State for High Drama and Mischievous Undertakings.”
Charles approached with a long-limbed stride, carrying a bundle of some sort under his arm. He had dumped water over his head and dried it in a way that caused pieces to stick out at odd angles. His face had been wiped, but a long gray smudge marred his forehead. He appeared quite pleased with himself.
“I found just the thing!” he announced, unfolding the bundle with a flourish. He shook out a countrywoman’s dress. “Clean and ready to wear. One suspects the lady, or a servant, forgot to collect the laundry last night. I found it hanging on a line.” He handed it to Meggy.
The dress was a bit worn and gently patched, but Rand suspected Meggy had known worse. Someday, I’ll see to it she has better.
She fingered the dress carefully. “Your Grace, I fear you’ve taken some farmer’s wife’s Sunday dress.”
“Really?” Charles appeared genuinely interested. “How can you tell?”
“Her everyday would be gray with washing for one, and there are bits of lace on the front,” Meggy explained. Rand could see that the dress was newer than those Meggy had worn in Canada. The shift she donned under Rand’s jacket certainly looked like a rag. Damned Blair can’t even keep her in clothes to wear.
“She’ll miss it sorely, Your Grace. We should put it back.”
The duke waved a dismissive hand. “I left two crowns on a stump nearby.” His mercurial face changed, and he leaned closer. “That will cover it, won’t it?”
Meggy burst out laughing. “She can buy enough cloth and furbelows for six dresses with that.”
“Excellent! Something for the inconvenience. I also commandeered something for the little one.” He held up a man’s shirt. “We’ll have to belt it, but it’ll cover her until we can get something better.”
Meggy covered her mouth and smothered her laughter. She swung around to Rand with the dress held up in front of her. “I guess I’ll have to keep it,” she said.
“Pretty, but I rather liked the one you had on the last time I saw you,” he teased. She colored to the roots of her hair, so stricken he felt like a cad.
“I’m sorry, Meggy. I am so sorry. I know Blair humiliated you. It’s just that you looked so damn delicious and—” I’m talking to air. She stood several feet away with her back to him.
“You do have a way with women,” his cousin said.
“Don’t say another word, Charles, or I swear I’ll knock you flat.”
The duke ignored him. “Mrs. Blair? I thought you might want to freshen up. There’s a clean running rivulet ten minutes from here, around that hill.” He rooted around in his bottomless saddlebag, pulled out a sliver of soap and a soft cloth, and handed it to her.
Rand heard them discuss the direction and watched her go without so much as a glance back at him.
“Badly done, cousin,” Charles said from his side. Rand’s hands formed into fists, but Charles merely smiled. “Before you beat me senseless,” he said, “perhaps it’s time we decided where we’re going. We promised this little girl somewhere her father won’t find her. Do you have any idea where on this island that may be?”
Chapter 29
The men had led the horses to drink in the stream where Meggy finished washing and dressing herself in the purloined dress. Lena skipped along beside them, dressed in a man’s shirt with what appeared to be a once-pristine neckcloth used as a sash. They had been locked in discussion the entire time.
Meggy understood little of the places and people Rand and the duke discussed, but she knew one thing with absolute clarity. She wanted her son. The question of which titled relative had this power or that resource only confused her. The description of major and minor estates dazzled her.
“But Drew,” she demanded.
Rand squeezed her hand. “Safe where he is. We can bring him to you at a later date if you like.”
“Then take me to him, if it is safe there,” she retorted.
On one thing both men agreed and made clear to Meggy: Chadbourn House, where they hid her son, had regular visits from street urchins and the well-born sons of great houses. A lone boy would draw no interest. The appearance of a “widow” and her daughter arriving on his heels would cause a stir, and they couldn’t afford even a ripple of attention.
“Will told me Songbird Cottage is empty. Why not there?” Rand asked. “Blair’s associates will monitor the great houses once they ferret out o
ur connections. The cottage is humble, off the beaten path, and unlikely to raise flags.”
“What is Songbird Cottage?” Meggy asked. “Is it safe?”
Rand smiled, and he seemed to see something far away. “It’s my house, the one I grew up in, a small farm in Wiltshire. There’s a flower garden, an apple orchard, trees to climb—”
“It has been empty for three years,” Charles interrupted. “I suspect Catherine left it empty hoping you would come back. The house will have suffered from neglect, and I doubt the land will be as you remember it.”
“Things change. Perhaps the neglect would play in our favor. In any case, I ought to see it,” Rand replied.
Meggy turned her head from one to the other. “Perhaps neighbors won’t notice if we take up residence.” She thought of Canada and Rand’s empty house. The owner came back much too soon. Would Blair have found us if Rand hadn’t come back and asked questions in town?
Meggy saw the duke and Rand exchange a look.
“What’s your real objection, Charles?” Rand asked.
“Eversham Hall borders Songbird. If they are exploring all the houses of all your relations, they will surely try there.”
“And?” Rand prodded.
Something simmered between the two men, but Meggy couldn’t tell what.
“Julia may be there,” the duke said with tight lips.
“Who is Julia?” Meggy asked.
“My wife,” His Grace replied as if it explained everything, yet Meggy suspected it did not. He went on. “Who will guard them at the cottage? There is no staff and no place for one.”
“I will, of course.”
“How do you plan to keep them unnoticed? Sooner or later the neighborhood will know Randolph Baldwin Wheatly has returned at last and taken up residence in his father’s house. One by one people will find excuses to drop by. I want to be there when you explain things to the vicar of Wheatton.”
“Not if I don’t go into the village.”
“They’ll know. Sooner or later Julia will know, whether she is in residence or not, and come to cause mischief.” The duke’s argumentative tone threatened to become real anger.
“You gave the Hall to Julia? You just let her have it?”
“Why not? It isn’t as if I have good memories there. The few I have are from Songbird. Anyway, she doesn’t own it. It’s entailed.”
“Stop it!” Meggy cried. “You both keep promising I’ll be safe, yet you argue like school boys and throw down logs in each other’s road. How can I believe your promises? You may as well leave Lena and me to Blair so I can convince him you kidnapped me. That would only be the truth.” She rose and grabbed Lena’s hand.
“No!” both men shouted at once.
“You can’t do that, Meggy. Think of what he planned for Drew and threatened to do to Lena. Even I must be better than that.”
“Then take me to Drew,” she demanded, holding her breath. I can’t go back, and I can’t go forward. I want my son. Please decide what you will do with us before I lose myself in weeping.
“There’s nothing for it, Charles,” Rand said after a moment. “We have to take her to Catherine. She and the earl will sort this out.”
The duke gave a choppy nod. In short order, he had them mounted, Lena in front of him and Meggy in front of Rand. She sat rigidly upright, refusing to sink back against his chest. I can’t let myself trust Rand Wheatly. I can’t. When I have my son, I’ll . . . She had no idea what she would do, but finding Drew came first.
They turned their horses toward London and set out by a circuitous route. An hour passed in silence before a thought that plagued Meggy demanded a voice.
“Tell me about Julia,” she said.
Rand savored the feeling of Meggy when she dozed against his chest. She opened her eyes when they reached the outskirts of London and skirted some of the more unsavory neighborhoods. She widened them when they reached Mayfair after a diversion through the park to wait for the cover of night.
Lena had kept up a steady chatter, encouraged by Charles, who seemed to have a heretofore-unknown ready supply of nonsense. Fatherhood has been good for him, Rand thought. By the time they turned toward the earl’s residence, Lena had been promised not only ice at Gunther’s but also a trip to the Zoological Garden in Regent’s Park.
Meggy rode in silence. Since asking him about Julia, she had spoken only when necessary to care for Lena or when asked about food and rest. He had told her the raw truth.
“Julia is Charles’s wife. You already know that. Not mine,” he had said.
“But you wished for her to be,” she had replied. How do women know these things?
“Yes. She preferred his title.”
“How sad for His Grace,” she had said. How sad for His Grace? The truth of that sunk deeper into Rand’s heart. Which of us did Julia hurt the most? he wondered. Meggy’s fundamental decency gave him plenty to think about while they rode in silence.
He wished he could see Meggy’s expression when they drew up in front of the earl’s townhouse and the butler admitted them to the grand entrance, but good sense dictated they slip in as unnoticed as possible. Though they dismounted in the mews behind the townhouse, she still looked stunned. Rand suspected the earl’s horses had far better living conditions than those Blair had given his family. Meggy gaped at the clean floors and well-timbered ceiling before Charles bundled them all into the house through the servants’ entrance.
“Ah, the redoubtable Mrs. Betts. We’ve brought you another nestling to feed. She has, alas, missed her tea,” Charles said, bursting into the kitchen. “Would someone please alert the earl and countess that we’re here?” He sat Lena at the table, and Rand watched sweet cakes appear in front of her. He kept an arm around Meggy, who stood on unsteady feet and blinked, taking in the kitchen and its busy staff.
Moments later, Swift appeared at the door. Only the slightest flicker of an eyebrow showed any reaction to their appearance and mode of entry. “Your Grace, Master Randolph, welcome. The earl and countess will be delighted to have you back safely. May I show you to rooms so you can freshen up?”
“That would be excellent, my good man. Is Master Jonny here?” Charles replied.
“He is up in the nursery with Master Tobias and Miss Mary. He will be pleased to see you.”
“I need a private word, Swift,” Rand put in.
“I’ll leave you to it,” the duke said. He took stock of his attire. “Perhaps I best freshen up before I go see Jonny,” he said as he left them.
Rand pulled Swift into the hallway. “We’ve brought a guest, as you can see. She will need a room. Something discreet, not overlooking the street.”
The old man nodded gravely. “The earl indicated that might be the case.”
“And Swift, her presence here is to be kept secret. She isn’t here, do you understand?” An afterthought occurred. “It is probably best if we don’t announce my presence either.”
“Of course, Master Randolph. The staff manages such subterfuge rather well.” The twinkle in the old man’s eyes affirmed his statement.
“Good man,” Rand said. He returned to the room to see Meggy watching him intently.
“Swift will see to it you have a room, and Lena—”
“Where is Drew? I want to see my son before anything,” she demanded.
“Of course she does. She must be frantic,” a voice from the door cut in.
Rand spun around to see his sister standing just inside the kitchen, startling him into silence. Catherine smiled at Meggy. “My brother forgets his manners. I am Catherine Wheatly.” Meggy stared wide-eyed at the countess.
“Sorry, sorry,” Rand said. “Catherine, Lady Chadbourn, may I present—”
Catherine waved him away. “You must be Meggy. I can tak
e you to your son.”
Meggy softened and stepped forward. “Please,” she begged.
“Shall we bring this young lady to the nursery with us?” Catherine suggested, taking Lena’s hand with a smile. The little one blinked up at her.
“Are you a princess?” Lena asked.
“No, a mere countess, I fear,” Catherine answered with a chuckle.
Rand watched the two women leave, Catherine’s arm around Meggy’s waist, her head bent to murmur reassurances. The only words he could make out were “Safe here.”
I hope so. Please God, I hope so, he prayed.
Chapter 30
Meggy watched her son bow perfectly and greet the countess with correct manners, a skill he never would have learned among troops and camp followers. Lena gaped at him, and Meggy’s heart sank. Drew’s short time at Chadbourn House had changed him in ways that alarmed Meggy, in spite of a rush of pride. She knew they didn’t belong in an earl’s house, and she didn’t want to lose her children to it, even if duty demanded she allow them to seize what advantages came their way.
But when Drew threw his arms around her, she knew her much-loved son had not changed in any way that mattered. When he reached out an arm to pull Lena into the hug, the affection in his eyes warmed her to her core.
The boy took a step back, and Catherine tousled his hair. She turned her face down a bit toward his. “How are those Latin verbs coming?” she asked.
Latin? His grandfather would laugh at that. French and Ojibwa might be more useful when we return to Canada, she thought.
Catherine rose and began to smile, but her expression altered when she saw Meggy’s face. “Save your worries for another time, Meggy. Enjoy your children for today,” she said with a reassuring pat. “Rand and the earl will manage the thing for you, have no doubt.”
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