“Wait for daylight.” He sat down on his bed and held out his hand. “Come. You can sleep with me in my bed.”
She glanced to the door and back. “What about Mr. Todd?”
“Devil take Mr. Todd. Besides—if that didn’t wake him, nothing will.”
“Are you sure?” She smiled reluctantly. “Sometimes, I kick.”
“I gather. But there’s only one bed, and I’m offering to share.”
She settled into the crook of his arm.
“That’s better.” He pulled up the blanket, making sure to cover them both. “Do you hear that?”
“I can’t hear anything.”
“Exactly.” His arms tightened around her waist. “The storm has passed.”
She inhaled his musky male scent with a sigh. “I guess that means we can continue at first light.”
“Yes. If we leave early enough, we can reach Periwinkle Gate by tomorrow evening. As long as no other bridges have washed out, that is.”
Hoping a bridge had washed out just to delay their separation was wrong. She wished for something else…something less harmful.
Short of pleading with him to come to his senses and see how much better everything was when they were together, nothing came to mind.
“Try and get some sleep.” He rested his cheek on the top of her head. “I’ll keep the daisies at bay.”
She smiled.
For the first time in ages, she felt something she hadn’t felt since she was small.
Safe.
Chapter Ten
With Lily’s help, Julia transformed back into a young woman. When finished, she paused to glance in Lily’s mirror. She twisted this way and that and decided she’d pass as a traveling tradeswoman, farmer, or maid.
Her hair was properly coiled with a few strands left to dangle. The hat she’d purchased from Lily—at a high price, for the sake of the maid—sat slightly askew. Her full shift fell in pretty folds, and, once properly cinched and tied, the brown bedgown showed just enough of her shape to please.
As she moved down the stairs, her legs, breeches-free for the first time in days, felt exposed. She joined Rayne in the courtyard. His expression did not help her feel any less conspicuous.
“You disapprove?” she demanded.
He blinked. “No—no, not in the least. I…I’ve just never seen you in clothes like those.”
“I’ve never owned clothes like these. They’re a tradeswoman’s clothes. A former blacksmith, to be specific. And I love them!” She waved her arms. “I can move!”
He chuckled. “But you’d never pass muster in London.”
She put her hand on her hip. “Who says I want to pass muster in London anymore?”
He searched her gaze as if trying to decide if she were telling the truth. But why he seemed so struck by her quip, she couldn’t fathom.
“Well then,” he said finally, “shall we depart?”
He climbed into the carriage after she did and settled onto the bench with an oof.
“More comfortable than hay, hmm?” she asked.
“Oh, considering the company”—he winked—“I didn’t mind the hay.”
Her cheeks tinted. And then, just as he had the prior day, he stretched out his arm and beckoned. She couldn’t refuse—being close to him made the ride easier to bear. Being close to him made everything easier to bear.
She settled against his side as the carriage began to roll.
After everything that had happened the past few days, she had to admit that Farring had been correct. She hadn’t found anyone else to marry because she hadn’t wanted to marry anyone else. And she hadn’t wanted to marry anyone else because she only wanted Rayne. Now and forever. Always.
Even when his black hair grayed.
Even if he lost his swagger.
She slanted him a glance, trying to imagine Rayne, well, old.
He hummed as he rubbed his scruff. “I’m not sure I like your expression.”
“Just thinking.”
“I gathered. Aren’t you always thinking?”
“Of course.” She raised her brows. “Aren’t you?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes my mind empties of thought.”
That, she couldn’t imagine. “You mean there are times you aren’t thinking anything at all? Times when you’re absolutely blank?”
“Absolutely blank. Especially when— Well, never mind.”
“When what?” She shifted.
“Don’t move away.”
“Not until you answer.”
“Will you come back if I answer?”
She nodded.
He sighed. “When I was in New York.”
Her heart sank. “Oh.”
“You said you’d come back if I answered.”
She didn’t move. “Do you miss New York?”
“Sometimes.” He took a deep breath. “I miss the work more than anything else. Turns out…I don’t much enjoy being idle. Just like”—he drew her firmly against his side—“I don’t enjoy being on this side of the carriage when you’re on the other.”
Nor did she enjoy being separated from him. She settled back against his side.
Just as he had before, he threaded his fingers through hers. “When all’s said and done, I’m afraid I’m going to have to thank Farring—and he’ll never let me forget it, either.”
“Why?”
He half-smiled as he traced a finger down her palm. “For not letting me leave the church until I agreed to deliver this coach to the dowager. Of course, he had no idea what you were planning.”
She bit her bottom lip. “Did he give you a reason why he wanted you to take the coach?”
“He wanted to ride with Kitt—with Mrs. Van Heldt.”
Her chest contracted. She covered her reaction with a forced cough. He studied her anyway, correctly reading, she suspected, her unintentional flare of jealousy.
“I’m going to tell you something only a few people know for certain.” He rested his hand on her neck as he placed his lips against her hair. “Not only is Katerina not my lover, we were never lovers—not even close.”
She turned up her face. “Are you telling me Katerina van Heldt, widely known to have been your lover, never actually was?”
“She never was.”
“Then why did you let me believe she was?”
“We had good reason to let people draw the conclusions they did.” His fingers tightened in her hand. “The rest is not my secret to share… Although your curiosity will, no doubt, be satisfied once we reach Periwinkle Gate.”
“Does Farring know you were never lovers?”
“Yes. Farring suggested the ruse. He was protecting…” He paused. “He was taking charge. As he does any time someone he loves is in danger.”
Was he speaking of Farring’s love for Katerina—or someone else? She stopped trying to puzzle together something Rayne had no intention of fully explaining. She couldn’t think, anyway. His tracing thumb did melty things to her anger…not to mention a few other choice parts.
“That makes another noble deed,” she said.
“Just a favor for a friend.” His thumb stopped moving. “I warned you last night—I’m not noble.”
“But you are noble and…unexpectedly chivalrous. And brave.”
She heard him swallow.
“Why don’t you try it?” he suggested.
“Try what?”
“Emptying your mind of thoughts.” He tightened his embrace.
Impossible.
She turned her cheek into his neck.
No one could sit quietly and not think…even when resting against the chest of a large, handsome man they loved.
And s
he could never, ever feel calm and content enough to fall asleep inside a moving carriage.
…
“What do you mean we’re almost there?” Julia gasped, indignant. She brushed away the hair that clung to her cheek. “You can’t mean to say I slept through no less than five horse changes and goodness-knows-how-many watering stops?”
Rayne shrugged. “You needed the rest, I suppose.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What were you doing while I was sleeping?”
“Sleeping, too, for the most part—or trying to arrange a change of postilions while not disturbing you. You looked so peaceful I’m only sorry I had to wake you now. However, there are a few things we must discuss before we arrive.”
Ah, yes. He’d said they would have to devise a story. Because, no matter how gentle he’d been, no matter how well they worked together or how much trust had grown between them, they had not come to any understanding.
As much as she felt as if they were eloping together, they were not.
“Have you any suggestions?” she asked, hating the tiny crack in her voice.
“Well…” He winced as he scratched the back of his neck. “I’d be obliged if our imaginary child-to-be didn’t make another appearance.”
She searched his gaze, wondering if his attempt at humor hid something similar to what she was feeling. “Must we lie to people who are your friends and Farring’s family?”
“Do you want to tell the dowager the truth? About…” He hesitated. “Belhaven?”
“No.” Belhaven. How could he still believe she was on her way to wed another man? “I am no longer certain about…Belhaven.”
His brows went up, and her blush deepened. She scowled as she reached for her hat.
“Allow me?” he asked.
She handed him the pin and the hat and turned her back. She closed her eyes, savoring the feel of his hands as he carefully rearranged her hair.
Why was it that with Rayne love came simply but discussion proved difficult, which was the opposite of her experience with everyone else? She bit her lip, working up the courage to ask him the one question that scared her most.
“Are you determined to return to New York?”
Asking proved easier when her back was turned. Her throat dried anyway as she folded her hands in her lap, waiting for his answer.
He set her hat on her head. “Do I have a reason to stay?”
“I’d like to think so,” she whispered.
She shifted to face him. He cradled her cheeks, angled his head, and placed a gentle, chaste kiss to her lips. A kiss that left her tingling with possibility.
“With your permission,” he swallowed, “I’ll give the duchess your name.”
She nodded.
“Do you know what that means?”
She nodded again—no going back.
She filled with so much emotion she couldn’t find words. As the carriage slowed to a stop, he covered her hand with his. Explanations and details could wait, she decided. For now, the firm pressure of his fingers around hers was enough.
“Look.” He drew her to the window. “The infamous gate.”
She frowned. “But the gate is green!”
“Thought the gate would be blue, didn’t you?” He smiled as if even he did not quite understand. “Your first lesson…abandon all assumptions before we pass through.”
“Like Dante’s hope at the gates of hell? What a thing to say! You’ve been so cryptic I don’t know what to expect.”
“I’m sorry, minx. I daresay you’ll soon understand. I can promise you I wouldn’t bring just anyone here, however.”
His thumb moved along her hand, sending shivers of pleasure spiraling up her spine.
“How much has Farring told you about the dowager duchess?” he asked.
“He hasn’t said much.” Farring had suggested she would like the duchess when they met—but she couldn’t tell Rayne without giving away Farring’s role in his abduction. “Horatia mentioned that the dowager likes animals. In fact, now that I think about it, that’s all she’s ever said.”
“Well, the dowager does like animals. So does her staff. In fact, likes animals is a bit of an understatement. And don’t blame Horatia for secrecy. I’m not sure any of the Maxwell-Hughes ladies know quite what to say about the dowager. They are forbidden from visiting Periwinkle Gate. It’s not part of the Shepthorpe estate, it belongs to the duchess alone.”
Forbidden? “But why?”
“You’ll see.”
She had the distinct feeling she was going to find out more about the Duke of Shepthorpe’s extended family than she had the entire year of living with them—and perhaps more about Rayne, too.
He adjusted his cravat. “Whatever happens, just nod. After you get over the oddity, I’m certain you, of all people, will love this place.”
She liked the way his voice had gone soft when he’d said you…as if he understood her in a special way, as if he truly valued her insight.
The carriage pulled up beside a semicircular, turreted mansion she couldn’t describe as any particular architectural style. In fact, the parts of the building had been less constructed than layered like a tiered confection.
Not that it was small. Not at all. Hundreds of windows sparkled down onto the pebbled drive. And, if they’d come in the summer, the mansion would have been pillowed in clouds of green. Instead, empty tree branches crowded the building like the magical brambles that sprang to protect Briar Rose, the sleeping beauty.
“What do you think?” Rayne asked.
“I don’t know what to think,” Julia replied. “But I like it.”
He chuckled under his breath. “I thought you might.”
“I feel like we’ve ridden into a fairy story!”
“In a sense, you have…the Dowager Duchess of Shepthorpe is better known to the world as Mother Hatchard.”
Julia clasped a hand to her throat. “The nursery rhyme author?”
“One and the same, though the present duke would be obliged if you never mentioned the fact aloud.”
“Scandalous!”
Rayne lifted his brows. “You don’t yet know the half.”
“Is this place quite respectable?”
“Depends on your definition,” Rayne replied.
A footman wearing the uniform of the 95th Rifles opened the carriage door. He and Rayne exchanged an oddly familiar greeting before Rayne helped her down.
“You’ve arrived.” A woman dressed as if she were headed to Almack’s waved her handkerchief from the doorway. “Just a moment, please.”
She swept down the stairs with great majesty. Well, Rayne had said the duchess was eccentric, hadn’t he?
Julia curtsied. “Your Grace.”
“Gracious me!” The woman tittered. “I’m the housekeeper, Mrs. Shillingham. I assume you’d prefer your usual room, Lord Rayne?”
“You’re too kind.” He bowed. “And a room for the lady, if you please.”
Mrs. Shillingham glanced between them. “We have prepared the one adjoining yours, of course.” She made a grand turn and swept back up the stairs in the same manner she’d come down.
Julia’s incredulous gaze slipped to Rayne.
“And now for your second lesson,” he said under his breath. “Don’t ask questions.”
“No questions?” But she had so many.
“If you’re wise.” He cleared his throat and addressed the housekeeper. “When might we have an audience with the mother?”
The mother?
“The mother, I am afraid, is out.” They entered an elaborate black-and-white marble hall. Mrs. Shillingham twirled again. “She is ever so heartbroken not to greet you, of course. And to miss meeting Lady Julia. Farring’s letter set the whole house aflutter, as you can imagine.”
Julia froze.
Rayne caught her wide-eyed expression and raised his brow. “Farring’s letter, you say?”
“Yes, of course. The letter explained everything.” Mrs. Shillingham rapped Rayne’s arm. “And I must say, none of us believed a word. But you are, aren’t you?” She grinned. “You’re eloping with Farring’s young friend, Lady Julia. The very same Lady Julia who we’ve heard so much about!”
Rayne’s smile remained fixed, but his eyes cooled. “Would my dear friend Farring lie?”
“Depends on the situation, of course,” Mrs. Shillingham replied. “But he wouldn’t give up Periwinkle Gate’s secrets to just anyone, would he?”
“Indeed.” Rayne inhaled. “Well, we’re here, aren’t we? I wouldn’t wish to disappoint, after all. Seems I live”—his tone deepened—“to entertain my friends.”
Mrs. Shillingham turned to Julia. “We’re so happy you’ve come, my dear.”
Julia forced a smile. “Thank you. I’m…happy, too.”
“Will the mother be long?” Rayne asked.
“No telling,” Mrs. Shillingham answered. “Had word of an animal in need, you see. And, sadly, she’s taken Master Theo and Annette. Theo was, of course, delighted to hear your news, Lord Rayne. Do come upstairs, won’t you?” Her eyes ran up and down Rayne’s dusty clothes. “We started drawing a bath as soon as the gates opened—thank heavens for my excellent intuition—and I wouldn’t want the water to get cold. I’ll have Fräulein Anna bring up chocolate and a light repast.”
“Thank you,” Julia repeated, by rote.
Any repast brought to her room would go to waste. She’d keep nothing down. Not now.
Damn Farring.
Why had he told the whole household she and Rayne were eloping? And who was this Theo who was “so delighted” to hear Rayne’s news?
In the carriage, she and Rayne had come so close to finally discussing what lay between them. To drop from those heights into the deep chill of his fury-cold glare left her dizzy. She fell behind on the stair.
“Come, come,” the housekeeper prompted.
“Problem, Lady Julia?” Rayne asked.
What was he thinking? And how—how—was she going to explain what she wasn’t certain she understood?
A shrill whistle below halted their progression. Mrs. Shillingham closed her eyes and gave a slight, longsuffering shake of her head.
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