Page 12 of A Lyon for Luck
The visitor smiled, revealing a large gap between his front teeth that gave the rather rotund man an almost childlike appearance. “Aye, Mr. Quill—or, m’lord, I should say—that I am. One of the tenants nearby sent his boy up to the house to tell me that a carriage had broken down on the main road and a couple—a man and a young woman—had wandered along the woodland path what led to the lodge here. Didn’t know it was you, my lord, or I’d never have bothered you. ’Tis good that you’ve come back! Will you be heading on to Avelynd after the rain passes?”
“No. Just stopping to rest on my way north. And, Watkins, should anyone ask you if I’ve been here, that’s between the two of us.”
“Is there aught amiss, Mister Q—m’lord?” The man asked with concern. He peered over Fletcher’s shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the woman in question.
“No, Mr. Watkins. I am, however, in the process of eloping with a young lady who has been promised by her father to a most unsuitable and horrid man. They may be in pursuit and it’s imperative that they do not locate us.”
“Mum’s the word, sir—my lord. And congratulations… Heading to Gretna Green, are you?”
“Just so… We’ve a long journey ahead of us and the delay from the broken axle will be a costly one. I know you’re concerned for the young lady in question, but I assure you she is a willing participant in the elopement. Everything is quite consensual and undertaken with honorable intent.”
“Oh, aye, m’lord. I know you’re a right sort who wouldn’t do anything dishonorable. If the lady is with you, that’s her choice,” Mr. Watkins agreed. “And I daresay you’d be a better option than anyone else for her. Best wishes and felicitations. I’ll see to it that a hamper of food will be waiting for you in the morning to ease your journey the rest of the way.”
“You’ve been very kind, Watkins. Thank you. And your discretionis most appreciated.”
The caretaker nodded, started to walk away, then turned back. “Begging your pardon for saying so, m’lord, but if you’re in a hurry to be wed, and assuming the young lady is of age to do so, a common license can be had in Nottingham. Now that you’re lord of the manor and a property owner in the county, you’d be able to apply for a license without any problem at all. And no one elopes to Nottingham. I reckon they’d breeze right past heading for Gretna Green in pursuit—if you’re worried about that.”
When Watkins had left, Fletcher closed the door and bolted it securely. His mind was whirling with this new possibility. Soft footfalls behind him told him that his betrothed had reentered the room. “It was only the caretaker.”
“I heard… well, I knew it was a servant from what I overheard of your conversation”
“I spent quite a bit of time at Avelynd after my parents died. And a considerable amount of time here at this hunting lodge. My uncle was… he liked to entertain and those sorts of entertainments were not exactly for a young boy as I was,” Fletcher explained. “Mr. Watkins is one of the kindest people I’ve ever known and took very good care of me then. How much of our conversation did you hear?”
“Enough,” she replied. “And I hadn’t considered it, but I am two and twenty. It is possible. But is it wise?”
“I think, under the circumstances, it might be our best chance,” he said. “I’m not certain why I didn’t think of it before except that perhaps I am so very new to being a landed gentleman. Everyone in London, from Mrs. Dove-Lyon to the Lynleys think we are making for the border. Not that they would betray us, but gossip makes its way, doesn’t it?”
“Indeed, it does. So we marry tomorrow in Nottingham?”
Fletcher nodded. To his mind, the sooner the better for a multitude of reasons. But for now, he needed her far from him. He neededhimself free of temptation.
“The pace we’ve been keeping has been too much for you. You are exhausted,” he said.
“As are you. This journey has not been easy for either of us.”
“I can sleep here before the fire. You take the bed,” he insisted.
“No. We can both share the bed. The aches and pains this journey has created are quite likely shared. Or do you deny that?”
“I do not deny it,” he admitted with chagrin. “There are more ruts than road this way, but it’s also the least traveled. Hence the necessity of it. It would be most improper.”
“We have been alone in a carriage for days as we set out to elope to Gretna Green. Impropriety is already well established… it’s a matter of degrees, really. This time tomorrow, it would be expected that we should share a bed.”
While he agreed with her in principle, the reality of their situation was something quite different. Being that close to her without touching her would be torture. But denying himself the pleasure of being close to her—well that was something he wasn’t certain he was capable of.
Crossing the small room to the adjoining bedchamber, he took her hand and guided her into the chamber. Together, they lay down on the narrow bed. Drawing the covers over them, he waited for her breathing to soften and slow with sleep. And then he prepared himself for a long and sleepless night.
Chapter Nine
They’d ridden throughthe night on horseback, having sacrificed the comforts of the carriage for the speed of mounts. With that, they had gone as far as possible, changing as often as coaching inns would allow. And at every stop, they’d asked after Daphne, trying to determine if she’d been seen. If so, whom was she with? At this point, Reginald was half convinced there was no elopement scheme, regardless of what Pozenby said. Who, after all, would the girl have eloped with? Still, Pozenby remained convinced.
“We’ll reach Nottingham by midday. We’ll check there to see if she’s been sighted,” Pozenby said as he emerged from the bushes where he’d stopped yet again to relieve himself.
“I fear this is a fool’s errand,” Reginald said, for possibly the tenth time. “There are easily half a dozen routes she could have taken… presuming, of course, that Gretna Green is truly her destination. And that is entirely supposition.”
Pozenby halted before mounting his horse. “Know this, Acres… if that girl weds another, every tuppence you owe to myself and to others will be demanded. Your only hope was that I would permit her marriage portion to be transferred to you. If she weds another, do you think that will happen? Not bloody likely. You’ll be paupered. You’d do well to remember that.”
“I’m unlikely to forget it,” Reginald replied. It was especially unlikely as Pozenby took every opportunity to remind him. “And if she is wed to another? We can hardly abduct her!”
