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Authors: Ella Quinn

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An hour later, Constance and Lucinda settled into the soft velvet squabs of the coach. They were on their way north, and, as far as they could tell, no one was following.
 
“You’re sure they aren’t still at the inn?” Gawain’s groom had been across the street from the posting house since early morning. Gawain arrived a few hours later when the dowagers usually took a walk after breakfast. It was now mid-afternoon, and they were nowhere to be seen.
“As sure as I can be. I went in just like you told me and said I had an urgent message for the Dowager Lady Featherton.” Whitely held out the sealed missive he’d used. “The landlord said they’d left before noon.” He spat on the ground. “Couldn’t get more than that out of him. So’s I went around to the stables and sure enough, the coaches was gone.”
Bloody hell!
Gawain ran a hand through his already unruly hair. “Let’s go. Even with several hours’ head start, at the pace they travel we won’t have a problem catching up with them.”
Close to dinner time, Gawain stopped at one of the larger inns. “Find out if they’ve been here,” he instructed Whitely. “I can’t believe we lost them somewhere along the road. I hope they didn’t turn off to visit someone.”
A few minutes later, his groom returned. “No one ain’t seen hide nor hair of them.”
Where in the bloody hell could two old ladies have got to? “They had to have come through here. I’ll wager anything the servants have been paid not to tell.” Gawain ran his hand over his face. What was he supposed to do now? “We’re going to Edinburgh. Perhaps I can find something out at the bank. We’ll travel until dark. They can’t be that far in front of us.”
It was a damned good thing he hadn’t gone out gambling since before quarter day, and his father paid for his servants and living expenses. All this traveling around wasn’t helping much, but it was strange, he seemed to have more money than usual. Gawain grinned to himself. He’d have a lot more money after he married his cousin. Every penny of it would be his, and she wouldn’t have any say at all how he spent it. All he had to do was find her. Unfortunately, he’d just lost the dowager. The one person who knew where she was, and he was running out of time.
 
As usual, Kit escorted Mary to dinner, bowing gracefully after tucking her chair in before taking his place at the head of the table. Ever since he’d stared her out of countenance earlier, he’d been more attentive. Reminding her why he was called Mr. Perfect. Perfect to every lady except her, that was. Well, she had said she’d give him a chance, and she would.
After dinner, instead of remaining with their port in the dining room, the gentlemen rose to accompany the ladies into the drawing room for tea. Once more, he joined her, remaining by her side. She found herself relaxing around him.
She stifled a yawn. “If we wish to make an early start, we should retire soon.”
He leaned his head close, as if making their conversation private. His breath touched her ear, and she fought not to sigh at the warmth. His voice was seductively low. “I agree. Have you ever visited Edinburgh?”
She fought the impulse to lean into him. “No, but I’ve heard it is lovely.”
“If you wish, we may discover it together. I’ll bring my curricle, and we can take trips around the area.”
He should not do this to her. One minute he was praising her housekeeping skills and the next he acted as if he really intended to court her. “That sounds lovely.”
When they entered the drawing room, Mary glanced around. This was another of her favorite rooms, and she would miss it. An ache began in the area of her heart. He was always so considerate and easy to get along with, except he wouldn’t kiss her. If only she knew she and Mr. Featherton were meant to be together, she need not feel as if she were leaving her home.
After about a half hour, she called for tea. One cup later, the married couples excused themselves and made their way to their chambers.
Kit walked with her up the stairs. They stopped outside of her parlor, and he kissed her knuckles. “I’ll see you in the morning, my lady.”
“Good-night, sir.”
She entered her room and heaved a frustrated huff. If only he would have kissed her lips instead of her hand. If her friends were right and he liked her, then it followed that he would kiss her on the mouth. She would wager that her friends’ husbands had kissed them. Maybe not Huntley, but that was different. He and Caro had hardly known each other when they’d been forced to marry to protect her from a madman. Their story had been too much like a romance novel for comfort. Mary knew Kit was reserved, but why did he have to be so very proper? On the other hand, he had complimented her on her person to-day. She sighed. Falling in love was rather difficult.
A few moments later, Mathers helped Mary out of her gown and stays, combed her hair, then helped her don her nightgown. Too excited about the trip to sleep, she went into her parlor. A small stack of mail she’d not got around to earlier lay on her desk. On top was a letter from her brother. She popped off the seal, read it, and laughed. Typical of Barham not to have dated the thing.
Mary,
What the deuce is going on with you?
Shortly after I received your last missive regarding a trust—thank you for not crossing it, by the way—Viscount Featherton contacted me regarding marriage settlements. I was never so nonplussed. He wants me to come to Town to discuss them. I’m trying to put him off, but
are
you going to marry Featherton? I have nothing against the match. In fact, it would be a deuced good one. He’s almost as rich as the Golden Ball. I tried asking Grandmamma, but she’s as close as a clam and won’t tell me a thing. Practically patted me on the head and told me not to worry.
It’s the devil of a hard thing being the head of the family when I don’t have a clue what’s going on. Well, whatever it is, just don’t create a scandal. Haha, I know you won’t.
I’m to remind you that Osanna’s eldest will come out next year, though what that has to do with anything, I vow I don’t know.
Where are you? What do you want me to do about Featherton?
B.
Mary’s temples started to throb. If Barham knew how close she was to doing just that, her easygoing brother would have her in front of a clergyman. If she did create a scandal, because it would be her decision that caused it, her niece and her whole family would be affected. Was she being selfish in wanting to pick her own husband? Everyone else had made love matches. Why shouldn’t she be allowed to do the same? If only she were certain of her course, this would be so much easier.
She poured a glass of wine and stood gazing out the window. Finally the aching stopped, and a sort of peace settled over her.
The night-blooming nicotiana glowed softly. The small bits of quartz in the gravel reflected the moon’s beam as it traveled across the path. The rest of the garden, the one she’d rescued and renovated, was in shadows. This whole estate had been virtually hers for almost a year. Did she really wish to cast it away? Would she be better off marrying for safety and position? And children. Ever since her friends had arrived, the nursery was alive with laughter and affection. Their husbands were with the children as much as the ladies were. She wanted that for herself, and she also wanted a loving husband. Not just someone who would give her children, but one who would help raise them. She wanted a man to gaze at her the way the others looked at their wives, not as if there were something wrong with her.
A light knock sounded on the door before it opened. Caro, dressed in a frothy turquoise wrapper, strolled in. “I saw the light and thought you’d be awake.”
Mary poured another glass of wine, handing it to her old friend. “It’s been an eventful few days. I’m trying to catch up with my correspondence. Come and sit.”
Her family’s and Caro’s family’s estates marched along each other, and, being of an age, they had become close. Even Caro’s flight to Venice had not lessened their friendship. Mary almost wished her friend was still abroad, so that she could flee to Venice as well. Yet that was selfish. Caro had found true love with Huntley, and Mary could not begrudge her friend that happiness. Not when she wanted it so badly for herself.
Caro curled up on the sofa, tucking her slippered feet under her. “Since our conversation yesterday and this morning, I’ve been studying you and Kit.”
Mary sat in the French cane-backed chair. Her heart started to quicken. Was this bad news? “And?”
“You seem to not understand one another.”
She shook her head, not understanding. “Could you explain more fully?”
Caro tilted her head to the side. “You are both so frightened of doing the wrong thing, that you do exactly that. Phoebe and Anna said they have never seen him so out of countenance. You do know he is famous for his address?”
Mary took another sip of wine. “Yes, but I do not understand what they mean.”
“That he cares enough not to want to place a wrong foot.” Caro straightened. “If a gentleman doesn’t feel anything for a lady, he does not change his behavior; but if he does, then he is unable to act as if she doesn’t matter. We have told you we think he’s in love, and yet you prickle up like a hedgehog around him.” She grinned. “Though I have to say, this evening you were nicer.”
Mary shoved a stray curl behind her ear. “But he does not do anything to indicate his feelings for me.”
“He might be afraid of being rejected. After all, he wants to marry for the right reasons as well as you do.”
Perhaps she had mistaken the look he’d given her. “I was thinking about that before you knocked. Other than love, what are the right reasons?”
Caro smiled softly. “Well, in my case it was to protect me not only from being abducted but from scandal, much as in your situation. Though I had neither the time nor any choice. You, my dear friend, at least have some time. Allow him to woo you. Mayhap being in Edinburgh will be easier. No one will know you are supposed to be married, and there will be no pretense to maintain.”
Exactly what Mary had hoped. “I want it to be easier. I do realize that even if no one knows who I am, word will eventually get out that Mr. Featherton is married.”
Caro gave Mary a knowing look. “Back to Mr. Featherton, are you?”
She felt the heat rising in her face and took a sip of wine. “It seemed better to keep a distance.”
Despite being several months’ pregnant, Caro rose with all the grace she had before, crossed to Mary, bent down, and kissed her cheek. “Kit has a very mild manner, but do not mistake that for weakness. I shall leave you now, or Gervais will come looking for me.”
Once the door closed, Mary considered what her friend had said. Was that part of the problem? Aside from the gentlemen of the
ton
, who had offered her empty flattery, she was used to large, physically powerful, bluff men, such as her father and brothers, who were Corinthians who engaged in every sport.
Could someone like Kit, the perfect gentleman—her cheeks warmed again—be as strong? What kind of man did it take to hold the
ton
in one’s palm? And what would he do to obtain what he wanted?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
K
it poured a glass of brandy. He should probably be in bed trying to sleep, but the Featherton estate waited for no one, and he’d been slacking on his work since arriving at Rose Hill. He’d have to have the mail forwarded to him in Scotland. Shuffling through the letters, he found one from his father.
K,
I have contacted Lord B with a proposal but have not heard from him yet. I shall give him two more days before seeking him out.
Your grandmother has absconded with the Dowager Duchess of Bridgewater to parts unknown. I assume they are traveling in your direction.
The only good news concerns the court case. There will be a hearing next week. I shall keep you advised of the out-come and inform Lord B. That, if nothing else, should bring him to Town.
Keep me apprised.
F
Kit blew out a large breath. Thank God for his father. Mary having control of her own funds would make her feel better, more powerful. He picked up his quill, dipping it in the ink.
F,
Please offer to place LM’s funds in a trust for her use only.
By the time you receive this, or near to it, I will be in the other capital at the home of Lord Titus Grantham. I trust you to find his direction.
Yr Servant,
K
Kit addressed the missive, then pressed his signet ring into the hot wax of the seal. Dent would be able to take it to the mail and meet up with them on the road to-morrow.
Placing his elbows on the desk, Kit formed a temple with his fingers. Unlike every other woman he had ever met, Mary had not responded as he’d wished. It was becoming clear she wanted something more, but what? Were his friends right? Did she wish to be more aggressively courted? Even kissed before she decided to marry him? If that was so, he’d have to readdress his methods. He rubbed his hands over his face. How would he even know? He might end up giving her a disgust of him.
By his estimate, he had two to three days until they reached Edinburgh. He’d have to plan his siege on Mary. With any luck at all, he’d have her promise to wed before they reached Lord Grantham’s house, and he wouldn’t have to worry about Lady Theo’s potential schemes to find a husband for Mary.
 
Kit strolled out of the house the next morning. The sun was barely above the horizon as he stared at the mass of vehicles. He didn’t know why the addition of two extra coaches and his curricle made the cavalcade seem so much larger than when his friends had arrived, yet they did.
Mary stood by the other ladies, who were checking items off their lists as they sent the coaches holding their personal servants and luggage ahead. Huntley’s inestimable valet, Maufe, assured his master all would be ready at their first stage of their journey.
The cerulean-blue carriage gown Mary wore caused her eyes to appear even more silver than usual. The garment was topped by a spencer which enhanced the finest bosom Kit had ever seen. Somehow he had to ensure she rode with him for as long as possible.
He was barely able to drag his eyes from her when Rutherford sauntered up. “Reminds me of our travel in France when we helped Serena escape Beaumont. That actually worked out well for both of them. Perhaps this trip to Edinburgh will have the desired results for you and Lady Mary.”
Kit refused to equate his situation with Beaumont’s. Mary was not fleeing Kit. He took out his quizzing glass, affecting to survey the seeming chaos, yet found himself focusing on Mary again. “I’m beginning to think we
are
going abroad and for an extended period.” Phoebe and Anna fussed with something in the coach that would carry their children. “We’re missing something or someone.” Mary went back into the house, and he glanced around. “Where is the groom?”
Rutherford pointed to the end of the row of coaches, where a brown-and-gold painted curricle had just pulled up behind the last coach.
A few moments later, Doust strode up. “I’m glad I’m not late. I had an emergency with a parishioner. Fortunately, I was able to hand it over to my rector friend who is standing in for me.” He grinned. “He even made a point of telling me to take a few days for a honeymoon.”
Kit hadn’t even thought of his own wedding trip. He supposed he had better come up with something, and Mary might have ideas as well. “Let’s see if the ladies are ready.”
After Lady Eunice settled in with her betrothed, Kit turned to Mary, who was now standing with Caro and Phoebe. “I would be honored if you rode with me until we get to the Great North Road.”
Her eyes widened as if his offer was the last thing she expected.
“What a splendid idea.” Caro beamed. “Phoebe was just saying that little Arthur was a bit out of sorts and wished to travel with his mama. It will be much more comfortable for Mary to be in the curricle.”
Mary stared at Caro for several moments, as if she was holding back a retort, before facing him, her countenance schooled into a polite smile. “I’d like that extremely. Thank you for offering.”
“If you wish, you may drive.” Without waiting for her answer, he lifted her up, trying to ignore the urge to pull her against him. He satisfied his desire to touch more of her by settling the rug over her lap and legs. “Let’s be off so that we’re not catching the dust from the coaches.”
“That’s a good idea. The road will be bad enough without that.” She took the ribbons, threading them expertly through her fingers. “Thank you.”
Laying one hand on her arm, he leaned closer to her. “You never have to thank me. I enjoy seeing your happiness.” She blushed charmingly. When Kit straightened, he added, “And I have every expectation you will do an excellent job.”
Suddenly she stiffened. “I’m glad you have confidence in my skill.”
What the hell had happened? One moment Mary had been happy and smiling, and the next she froze again. If only he knew what he had said. Was he not supposed to compliment her skill at all? She’d been happy the last time he’d done it. Then again, he had failed to tell her she looked pretty.
She gave the horses their office and off they went, tooling down the drive toward Rosebury.
Skills!
Mary thought. All he could ever think to compliment her on were her skills. All the other men had praised their wives’ beauty this morning, even when they were yawning, but other than greeting her, Mr. Featherton had said nothing. Even after she’d taken such care to look particularly attractive, all he could say was she drove well.
Caro’s words came back to Mary. Perhaps he was afraid of offending her. If only she knew what to do. Unfortunately she couldn’t think of the problem now. They were entering the town, and she had to attend to the team. She inclined her head to people as they waved. Her throat tightened. No. She would not think of this being the last time she would be here.
When they’d reached the road toward Alnwick, Kit said, “I had a letter from my father. Your case to terminate the trust will come up next week.”
Her heart stopped, and she dropped her hands, almost losing her hold on the horses. Finally she remembered to breathe again. “How? I mean, I’ve been waiting for so long.”
She slid a quick look at him, and his lips had curved up in a smug smile. “My father has some influence, and I asked him to use it on your behalf.”
Mr. Featherton took her breath away. He had done what her brother had not been able to accomplish in two years, and in such a short time. “But why? I do not understand.”
“Because you wanted it. I could see the restraint chafed you.”
Oh my goodness. What did one say to that? “You have my deepest appreciation.”
“I’d rather have your trust.”
Unable to think of a response, or do more than give him a quick glance, she applied herself to the pair.
“Would you agree to start anew?” he asked.
Her heart thudded against her chest as she fought to keep her voice from trembling. “What exactly do you mean?”
“I believe we have both found it difficult to enter into a courtship in the presence of those who thought us already married. In Edinburgh you will be known as Lady Mary Tolliver and be properly chaperoned. I would like you to allow me to be your suitor, as if the deception had never occurred.”
She couldn’t believe they were having this conversation now. Right when she dare not take her attention off the team. Still, that was what she had wanted, to be wooed and not trapped into marriage, but could it work? Thus far it had not. Was he right? Would things change between them in Edinburgh? Her friends’ conviction that he loved her flitted through her mind, and she had to admit, even when she was angry with him, she was still very much attracted to him. “Very well,” she said evenly, trying not to appear too eager. “Let us proceed as you suggest.”
“Thank you.” He sounded relieved; if only she could see his expression she’d know whether she had made the right decision.
At least in Edinburgh, if they truly did not suit, she would have other choices. The chance that it might get out that someone had posed as his wife nagged at her. She didn’t want either of them hurt. Perhaps Caro was correct, and Mary’s behavior was making the courtship more difficult. She was still so angry with her grandmother, was she truly not giving Kit a chance? It really wasn’t fair to take her fury out on him. If that was indeed what she was doing.
Marcus rode up next to them. “Doust suggests we take the route he mentioned before. Going north through Coldstream, and from there on to Edinburgh. He says it will cut twenty miles from our journey. The road might not be as good, but it won’t be as crowded either. I’ve already sent a rider ahead to notify the baggage coach. We’ll stop at Wooler, about ten miles or so from the crossroad.”
She stole a quick glance at Kit, who nodded. “Very well. When do we turn north?”
“There is a major crossroad with an inn. Apparently it cannot be missed.”
“We shall see.” Kit laughed. “Generally when one says that, missing the object is the easiest thing in the world.”
That was a true statement, but when had she begun thinking of him as Kit again? Mary gave herself a shake. She needed to stop being such a pea goose.
Marcus left, leaving her and Kit alone again. After a few miles of skirting lakes, barely visible through the trees, on one side and pastures on the other, they entered dense forest.
She shivered.
“Are you cold?”
The horses must have felt her unease as well, as they picked up their pace. It couldn’t hurt for them to trot for a bit. A nervous laugh burbled out. “No. It’s just that the road reminds me of all the stories I’ve heard of highwaymen.”
“It is rather dark.” He edged closer to her, and despite her confusion about how she felt for him, she was grateful for his warmth.
A half hour later, the view opened to cultivated fields, and a large fortified building stood at the crossroad, proclaiming itself to be the Runside Inn. She and the horses heaved a collective sigh of relief. “Ah, here is our turn.”
Mary guided the pair onto the road going north.
She anticipated Kit would move away from her, but he did not, instead remarking, “I expected more sheep in this area.”
“Not at all. We have good soil in this part of the county. Wheat and various types of corn are grown here. I believe the closer to Scotland we travel, you’ll see more sheep.”
“You are . . .” He stopped, and cleared his throat. “We have another hour at least until we reach Wooler. Are you still comfortable driving?”
That hadn’t been what he was going to say, which was most likely something about the land.
Drat! She was doing it again!
Why could she not simply appreciate his kindness for not saying anything and accept his concern for her? “I’m fine for the present. I shall give you the ribbons when we make our pause.”
Until now, the only travel she’d experienced were the mad dashes her family made from their estate to Town, and the one to Rose Hill. It seemed none of them were capable of leisurely journeys. Cattle had been always stationed along the route and teams changed out with great speed and regularity. It was nice to finally be able to enjoy the scenery and stop at an inn for more than a quick night’s sleep or a cup of tea. There would be no changes of cattle on this road, and a couple of times, she had to remind herself to nurse the pair along so as not to blow them.
Kit entertained her with comments on their surroundings. At times comparing it with other places in England, he drew her out about her home county, which he had visited only briefly. As much as she wanted to be in a city now, Mary came to realize how much she loved being in the country. “Which do you like better, Town or the country?”
He took a few moments before answering. “Although there is much to recommend Town, the theater for example, I am more at home in the country. Each time I visit one of my father’s properties, the people in the area always make me feel welcome. I like the closeness.”
Hmph. The country ladies probably looked forward to a chance to show themselves off to him.
“What about you?” he asked.
“I love the country. Though I wish I’d had more of an opportunity to shop and visit the theater and opera.”
“I recall Huntley saying Edinburgh has a theater. It would be my pleasure to escort you.” His voice trailed off as if he didn’t know how she’d respond.
She had never heard him so unsure of himself. That must be part of what Caro had noticed. In the past, Mary would have thought Kit didn’t truly wish to accompany her. Now she saw it differently. Was it true that he was no more sure of her than she of him? “I would love it.”
Each time they passed another vehicle or a person walking along the road, Kit inclined his head and called a greeting. She had never been around anyone so genial to his fellow man as Kit was, and it gave her a warm, joyous feeling that she was with him.
BOOK: A Kiss for Lady Mary
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