Page 22 of The Favourite

“No maid? My dear, this must be remedied at once.”

“It is hardly my most pressing need,” she argued.

“I disagree; we leave within the hour. Look to the skies, Lady Bardulf. The roads will be quite washed away if we do not make haste.” He was exaggerating of course, but Jane’s eyes flew wide with alarm.

Wat coughed. “Shall I go and see if I can rouse this Marta, my lady? Where might I find her?”

Jane’s expression wavered. “Well, if you would, that would be very kind.”

In all, the packing took closer to two hours, but as he kept remembering things essential to his comfort and sending Wat back with instructions to Robert, the blame for this did not rest solely on Jane’s shoulders. By the time they assembled in stable courtyard, cloaked, and hooded against the driving rain, and surrounded by their various trunks, Jane was pale-faced and anxious.

“Allow me to help you up, my dear,” Alisander said, “and we will shelter within.” She took his hand, and he guided her up the steps into the elaborate wooden conveyance which mercifully included a substantial covered roof. “Wat!” he shouted over his shoulder, and his servant darted over from where he was instructing the packing of a second wagon. “Blankets?”

“Of course, my lord.” Wat hurried away as Alisander climbed in after her. The servant was soon back with a pile of blankets and cushions for their comfort.

“Take off your wet things,” Alisander said, removing his own. “Or they will soak you through.”

“This is a very grand carriage,” Jane commented nervously as he flung her cloak over the back of the seat and wrapped a blanket about her. “The one I rode in previously was not painted or tooled in leather as this one.”

“Well, only the very best will do for the Bardulfs,” he replied, sitting down beside her. “We can share this one,” he said, enveloping her skirts with his own blanket and tucking it about her waist.

“That is very generous, my lord,” she said faintly, and he had to hide his smile.

“It will be damnably cold and damp after we have been sat in this box for over an hour,” he reflected. “How long did this journey take you previously?”

“Five hours, my lord, or thereabouts,” she admitted, and he winced.

“I recommend we try and sleep for the most part.”

“Sleep?” Jane sounded startled.

“Why not? We can’t exactly enjoy the views,” he pointed out, for the window openings were covered in oil cloths to keep out the rain.

“My lord?” Wat called. “All is ready to depart.”

“Then let us do so with all haste!” he shouted by way of reply and stretched out in the seat, wedging a cushion behind his neck. At Jane, he directed a fleeting, “Goodnight,” and closed his eyes.

8

The carriage jolted again, quite violently this time, and Lord Bardulf moved his arm across to prevent Jane from lurching out of the seat. So discomposed was she, that she clutched at his sleeve a moment before releasing him. Thankfully, he did not open his eyes, so mayhap he had not noticed what a nervous traveler she was.

“The road is getting a good deal rougher here,” she commented nervously. “I think we may have to stop soon.” He frowned, still maintaining the pretense he was asleep. Though he had not opened his eyes once for the past three hours, he had prevented her from lurching from the seat several times, and even spoken the odd word, if she addressed him directly.

“Do you not agree?” she faltered, for Jane was sure at this point that they would end up in a muddy heap or else sliding into a flooded ditch.

“It is not so very late,” he pointed out mildly. “And did you not say you made this same journey in five hours?”

“Yes, but it did not rain with such violence as this the whole time,” she answered through chattering teeth. “All this rain may have damaged some of the lane’s surfaces. It could be dangerous.”

“No, no,” he assured her. “Wat has a steady hand at the reins.” When she did not look convinced, he added, “If we stop now, ‘twill be at a common hostelry. I am convinced you should not wish to spend our wedding night in such a place.” Jane opened her mouth, then closed it again. He opened one eye to look at her. “Am I wrong?”

“I would rather spend it in an inn than a ditch, my lord,” she answered with some asperity.

His lips curved into a smile, and he shut his eyes again. “Very practical. I believe you will make me an admirable wife.”

“Is practicality what you always sought in a spouse?” she asked, though in truth, she could not say why she was so desperate to keep him talking. When first he had feigned sleep, she had been grateful, for it would rule out any awkward conversation. Three hours later, she was desperate to fill the wretched silence.

“I am not sure I have ever sought one out,” he admitted after a moment’s consideration. “In truth, I have very little notion of how to treat a wife. I think the easiest thing will be if I simply treat you as my latest mistress.” Jane was so astonished by this reasoning that she simply stared at him. “Does that offend you?”