Fiona stared at Penny in shock. “Run away? Surely you are joking!” She shook her head in disbelief, her eyes straying to Lucy who was sobbing hysterically in the arms of her friend Kate. “I had no inkling something like this was going on. You never said a word.”
Penny shifted uncomfortably. She was eager to be off on her search for Edward, but she could hardly foist Lucy off on Fiona without a reasonable explanation. “I had hoped it was merely a passing infatuation,” she replied with a sigh. “I thought wrong.”
Fiona leaned forward and patted Penny’s leg in sympathy. “At least you have the Duke on your side. Are you certain you wish to go all the way to Scotland? I worry about your leg, and your reputation will be horribly compromised as a lady traveling all on her own. I think you should wait until the Duke retrieves the couple.”
Penny shook her head. “I cannot do that, Fiona. I do not trust the Duke to keep his promise, and Edward will surely put up a protest, and I fear His Grace’s temper will get the better of him. No, I must go.”
The front door opened and Colin, Fiona’s son, came in. He was a big, strapping lad of seventeen, good-looking but painfully shy. He nodded
a greeting to the ladies, his eyes downcast as he stood twisting his tweed cap between his fingers.
“I have brought the carriage round, Miss Inglewood,” he muttered, still gazing at the floor, though his skin flushed a bright red. “If ye are ready?”
Penny rose, reaching for the small box in which she had stashed a few necessary items for the journey. “Are you sure you don’t mind taking me all the way? I can do quite well with a lone horse…”
“Don’t be silly, Penelope,” Fiona cut in sternly. “Gently bred ladies do not go traipsing the highways on horses. Colin will go with you. He is quite capable of offering some sort of protection should you run into trouble. Besides, it is a closed vehicle, so the chances of someone recognizing you are nil.”
Lucy tore herself from Kate and hurried over to throw her arms about Penny. “Oh, do be careful, Penny, and please bring Edward back? I will miss you terribly.”
Penny returned the embrace, swallowing down the lump of emotion that clogged her throat. She shut her eyes and nodded. “You be good now, Lucy. Do not do anything to displease your hostess. And remember, try to say as little as possible to anyone about this, including Lord Westbrooke?”
“I promise.”
Penny gently pulled out of the embrace and smiled. She turned to Colin and nodded, handed him her box and followed him out.
The journey out to London was uneventful, and soon, they had driven past the bustling city and on the busy road to Scotland, leaving Penny with a lot of time to ponder on the issues that plagued her and her family. Most of all, she worried about Edward and Jane. What would they do when the harsh reality of what they had done finally sunk in? Where would they live if they managed to get married before Phillip or she caught up with them?
Miss Rosebury was certainly used to a life of luxury, and unless the Viscount was amiable enough to pardon their defection, Penny
certainly did not see how those two would be suited to a life on the edge of want. And Phillip—society would expect him to demand some sort of retribution for his besmirched honour. Would he challenge Edward to a duel?
She felt the carriage begin to slow and wondered if they had perhaps gotten to an inn. She pulled back the little curtain that blocked the rays of the sun from penetrating the carriage and peered out. They were approaching a narrow bridge, but it seemed there was some sort of obstruction, for the other vehicles were pulling to a halt and passengers were alighting.
“What is going on?” she called up to Colin. He jumped down from the driver’s perch and came to open the door.
“There is an accident of sorts, Miss,” he replied, helping her down from the carriage. He nodded towards a cluster of people gathered around what appeared to be a loaded wagon and three horses. “Might take a while to move that.”
Her heart sinking at his words, Penny moved closer to the disaster, praying his prediction was wrong. The sight that met her eyes made her groan aloud. The wagon would have to be unloaded before any attempt to move it, and that could take hours. The people gathered were shouting and arguing amongst themselves on how best to begin unloading the wagon. The heavy wheel had broken, and someone was dispatched to fetch a blacksmith. A good number of people settled down to await the eventual clearing and were clustered in small groups chatting.
“Oh Lord!” she muttered, running a hand through her hair in despair. “It will be too late.” She was so close. If only this had happened much earlier to slow the two runaways.
She wondered how far she would get if she simply decided to continue on foot; maybe she could get to some coaching inn and acquire a fresh horse.
The sky turned grey and overcast without warning, and Penny almost screamed in frustration. This day was the worst she had ever had. She wondered where Edward and Jane were at the moment. Had they
gotten married already? Had the Duke been able to catch up with them? Her mind kept spinning in circles, filled with questions but no answers, and this delay was not helping at all.
Lifting up her skirts, she carefully descended the slope down to the bridge in hopes of seeing how much progress had been made. Her heart sank when she realized the blacksmith had not even arrived yet, and several men were standing around still arguing, and a few women had clustered at one edge of the grassy bank and were chattering together. Penny sighed and shut her eyes in despair.
“Why am I not surprised to see you here?”
Her eyes flew open, and she turned swiftly, almost losing her balance in the process. Phillip stood behind her, a sardonic expression on his face. He lifted a brow at her in inquiry.
Quickly, her gaze swept past him, heart thudding in hopes of seeing her brother somewhere behind. Disappointment coursed through her, and she looked back at him. “Have you been to Gretna Green?
He laughed shortly. “It is a two-day ride to Scotland, Miss Inglewood.”
She blushed and looked down at her shoes. “Of course, how silly of me. I am just worried I suppose.”
He stepped forward and placed a hand beneath her chin, raising her face till she looked up at him. “They will be safe together, regardless of the outcome.” His voice was surprisingly gentle.
She sighed. “Yes, I suppose so…but…it is difficult not knowing for certain.”
A drop of rain hit her forehead. Phillip gently wiped it away with his thumb and glanced up at the heavy clouds. “I’m afraid it will rain soon, and I doubt the wagon will be moved in the next few hours. You should seek shelter. I believe there is an inn just a little way from here if you are willing to continue on foot. Are you on horseback?”
Penny shook her head and gestured to where Colin stood beside the carriage. “I came in a carriage, but I don’t mind walking to the inn. I
will have a word with Colin then.” She turned, intending to return to her carriage, but Phillip detained her.
“No need. I will speak to him and give him directions on where to meet us when the roads are cleared. Wait here.” He was gone before she could protest.
Another drop hit her hair, and she retreated to the shade of a tree to wait for Phillip. She fervently prayed that Edward would have the presence of mind to seek shelter from the coming storm on time. It would be a disaster if either of them should fall ill.
“Oh, dear Lord, please protect them. Keep them safe,” she whispered.
Phillip returned, with Colin in tow, carrying her little box. “I will leave my mount in his care and return for it when I see you safely to the inn,” Phillip said, leading them towards another cluster of trees where a black horse was grazing lazily. He untied the reins and handed it to Colin. “You can fasten him to the back of the carriage, lad. Just keep an eye out for horse thieves.”
“Aye, Your Grace, I will look after him,” Colin replied with a formal bow. He turned to Penny and handed her the box. “His Grace has given me directions to the inn, Miss. I will be along soon as.”
“Thank you, Colin, for everything.” Penny smiled at him gratefully, causing his face to redden.
“Shall we?” Phillip asked, frowning at the grey sky.
“Yes, of course.”
He nodded and reached for her box, skilfully manoeuvring through the crush of horses and vehicles. The bridge was the only way to get across the rather deep river; it was almost impossible to make their way through the throng. Penny followed him as closely as possible, not wanting to appear a burden in any way.
Finally, they were clear of the bridge and the crowded road. He set a brisk pace that had Penny struggling to meet up with his long strides, her leg beginning to ache from the stress. She bit her lip and tried to ignore
the pain, determined not to protest even when every step turned into pure agony that threatened to overwhelm her at any second.
Suddenly, the wind picked up, hurling dirt and leaves every which way. She heard Phillip curse, and then he was beside her, gripping her arm firmly. He took one look at her face, white and strained with the effort of walking, and he swore.
“Bloody hell, why didn’t you say something, you stubborn woman!” he shouted above the sound of the raging wind. He didn’t wait for a reply, simply shoved the box into her arms and swept her into his arms.
“No,” Penny shrieked in alarm, feeling her face heat in utter mortification. “I can walk…re…”
“Be quiet!” he hissed, cradling her in his arms as though she weighed nothing.
Penny wisely chose to heed his command, grateful to be off her feet on the one hand and horrified to be carried thus. If anyone they knew saw them, her reputation was done for.
The storm began in earnest, heavy raindrops that drenched them both in seconds. Phillip cradled her closely, wrapping his overcoat around her in an attempt to shield her from the worst of the downpour. Penny buried her face against his chest feeling guilty at the knowledge that he was prevented from making a dash for shelter because of her. Suddenly, he halted, and she glanced up to see that they had thankfully reached the inn. He set her down gently on the wooden porch, water dripping down their bodies to pool on the floor.
“Can you stand?” he asked gently, his expression concerned. She nodded, feeling extremely conscious of the way her drenched clothes plastered themselves to her body. The wind blew across her body, and she shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.
Phillip pushed open the door and practically shoved her into the dim but warm interior. The entry way was deserted, but Penny could hear voices drifting from somewhere within. A fire burned brightly, and Phillip took her arm and led her to sit by it.
“I’ll ruin the chair…” Penny protested, but he placed a firm hand on her shoulders and forced her to sit.
“I’ll pay for any damage,” he replied brusquely, his tone effectively shutting off any form of protest.
A door opened, and a short, portly man hurried in. He took in the situation at a glance and bowed deeply. “Welcome, mi lord, mi lady…Horrible weather indeed…”
“Do you have brandy?” Phillip cut in, sparing the man a glance before returning his attention to Penny who was now shivering violently. He took her cold hands between his own and rubbed vigorously, his lips tight with worry.
“Aye, mi lord. I’ll ask the missus to make some tea too.” The man hurried off, disappearing into the kitchen.
“We should get you out of these wet clothes,” Phillip muttered, still rubbing her hands. “God dammit, you should have listened to me and stayed at Millcote.”
Penny was too cold to bother with a response, not that he seemed to require one in any case, not with the way he was glaring at her as though torn between strangling her or perhaps shooting her for being so hard-headed. The warmth of the fire had begun to seep into her bones slowly. Coupled with his administrations, this began to make her feel sleepy.
The innkeeper returned, and Phillip engaged him in conversation, but Penny was too tired to pay any attention to what was said.
He finished their conversation and turned to her, helping her stand. She winced as the pain made itself known once more, but he simply picked her up and followed the innkeeper.
He set her down again, this time, in what appeared to be a private parlour, also with a cheerful fire. The innkeeper withdrew after setting her box on the floor, leaving her alone with the Duke.
“Sit down, Miss Inglewood,” Phillip ordered, striding over to stand by the fire. “A maid will be here shortly to help you undress and change into something dry. Tea will be sent in a few minutes.” “W–what about you? You are also drenched.”
He turned to look at her, his lips set in a grim smile. “Do not worry about me.” He moved towards the door.
“Where are you going?” she asked in some alarm, wondering if he was going to abandon her here.
He sighed impatiently. “I am going back to the bridge.”
“But it is raining terribly,” she protested, “You will catch your death. Why not wait until the rain stops?”
“No.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, must you be so stubborn?”
He laughed. “As much as I find your company entertaining, I’m afraid I cannot linger. I will be back soon. Try and get some sleep. We will set off early tomorrow.”
A knock sounded on the door, and he pulled it open to admit a maid carrying a platter laden with tea things. Phillip nodded a farewell at Penny and left.
“Where do you want it, mi lady?” the maid asked quietly.
“Just leave it anywhere,” Penny responded and rose, fumbling with the buttons on the back of her black gown. The girl hurried over to help, earning her a grateful smile.
Dressed in dry clothes, Penny sat and allowed the maid, who’d given her name as Molly, to pour her a cup of tea. She accepted the cup and the scones gratefully and had just taken a sip of the steaming liquid when the innkeeper’s wife bustled in beaming with yet another tray. She beamed at Penny and set the tray down.
“Ye husband ordered for lamb stew, Your Grace. Will he be joining ye for supper?”
Startled, Penny downed the tea hurriedly, and it went down the wrong way.