Rebecca woke late the next morning, and with good reason. Why, with Gabby’s threats to bed a known hoodlum like Shufflebottom to Owen’s heart-wrenching proposal and Sebastian’s unexpected kiss, it was a wonder Rebecca had managed a single minute of sleep.
She crawled from the coverlets and rang for Serena to help her dress, then made her way down to breakfast. She slipped inside the morning room and almost turned back but the duke looked up and caught sight of her first. “Food is on the sideboard,” he said.
“Thank you,” she murmured, knowing her face was as red as the silk covered walls. “Where is Gabriella?”
“She has yet to appear. I heard you two talking into the wee hours.”
Appalled by this bit of information, Rebecca hurried to the sideboard and grabbed a plate then took her time to fill it keeping her back to him. When she could no longer wait, lest he realize her stalling tactic for what it was, she took a seat as far from him as un-rudely as possible—two chairs down—at a round table.
“Tea, my lady?” a footman asked.
“Coffee, if you have it.”
“Of course, my lady.”
The butler entered the room, holding a silver salver. He approached the duke. “A note from your sister, Your Grace.”
There were two. Ryleigh glanced at both, then speared Rebecca with an unreadable look. “It appears she left one for you as well, my lady.”
The duke dropped Rebecca’s note back on the tray and the butler brought it over. In a matter of seconds, Ryleigh’s face almost matched the walls, only it wasn’t embarrassment coloring his skin, but fury. “Did you know about this?”
What reason had he to be angry at her? “Know about what?” She broke the seal of her own note and glanced through it.
I’m so sorry, Rebecca. I know I brought you to Ryleigh Hall, and I appreciate the invitation to Exford, but I’ve decided to return to London. ’Tis a matter of urgency. You’ll, of course, know the reason. Please don’t tell Sebastian why. This is something I must do.
Yrs, G.
“Dear heavens,” she breathed. “She wouldn’t dare.” But she did, didn’t she?
“Well? I demand an answer, Lady Rebecca.” His voice held a lethal quality she refused to be intimidated by.
In any event, it was obvious, she would have to go after her friend. The issue was how to go about it without letting Ryleigh know she was going after Gabby.
“I’m waiting, Lady Rebecca,” he said through clenched teeth.
She usually doctored her tea to the extreme, which did not explain why she preferred her coffee black. At this moment, however, she considered adding milk and sugar if only to buy herself time. Instead, she took in a deep breath. “I was not privy to her plans ahead of this”—she snapped the missive. “Although,” she said more contemplatively. “I daresay, with Gabby’s,”—his lips tightened at her abbreviated usage of Gabs’ name—“departure, I should return to London for my father.”
He studied her for a long, long uncomfortable moment and she forced herself to hold his gaze. “I see,” he said.
Another silence stretched between them.
Rebecca broke the hold and, slipping her spoon into her black coffee, stirred, then stopped abruptly when she realized what she was doing. She cut him a quick look from lowered lashes and deflated. He was watching her with a decided smirk.
“Well, if you’ll, er, excuse me, Your Grace,” she said as nonchalantly as she could manage, and stood. “I shall see to my packing and be on my way.”
“Are you sure, my lady? You haven’t touched your food.”
Unsurprisingly, her appetite had fled. “I’m sure. With Lady Huntley gone, I can’t very well remain here with you. Goodness. In another instant, you’ll be accusing me of orchestrating her departure in a ruse to trap you into marriage.”
He rose as she did.
“Again,” she couldn’t resist flinging at him, wishing it was a firelit-tipped arrow.
It took every ounce of will not to dash from the morning room, and from him.
“Well. Another timely exit by Lady Rebecca,” Sebastian said aloud.
“Pardon, Your Grace?”
“Nothing, Timms. Have Daniel ready my carriage. It appears I’m to London.”
“I’m sorry, Your Grace. Lady Huntley took the carriage at daybreak. We had no reason to believe…”
“Not an issue, Timms.” Sebastian turned a grim smile on his butler. “As it turns out, Lady Rebecca is planning an excursion to London as well. I shall take a horse and accompany her party as an outrider.” He wanted to rub his hands together at his sudden and brilliant idea, but Timms would likely expire from shock if Sebastian exhibited such uncharacteristic conduct.
“Very good, sir.”
“So soon, milady? But we’ve just arrived.” Serena hurried to the closet and began retrieving dresses and tossing them on the bed.
“It appears my friend is on her way to London and bound for disaster. We must save her from herself without alerting His Grace. I wish to leave within the hour.” Rebecca tugged on the bell cord and gave the instructions for Barrett to ready her conveyance. Afterwards, Rebecca dove in to help an appalled, but resigned, Serena. It was not the first time Rebecca had taken on a servant’s task for expediency.
They made record time.
Rebecca proceeded down the grand stairs, Serena on her heels, to see Timms in the hall already.
“Your carriage awaits, my lady.” It felt somewhat otherworldly—Cinderella like—except, she was no princess, and there was no prince awaiting her.
“Thank you, Timms. I’ve left the duke a note. If you would be so kind as to deliver it—”
“Certainly, madam, but perhaps you would care to deliver it yourself.” He opened the door, showing Ryleigh standing next to her carriage, holding the reins of a stellar mount.
Restraining her groan was impossible. “Please, tell me it isn’t so,” she muttered.
Timms, wisely, remained silent.
Behind her, Serena’s relief turned palpable.
Rebecca garnered her wits, squared her shoulders, and stepped purposely through the portico. The clouds in the distance were gathering, as was her temper. “Just what do you have up your lace-trimmed sleeves, Your Grace?”
“I shall accompany you to London,” he said. “As an outrider, of course.”
“Of course.” She’d known the duke too long to bother keeping her sarcasm at bay. “I suppose Gabby, er, Gabriella, took your rig?”
His head tipped in a sharp nod. “That, she did.”
Rebecca thought about that for a minute. As irritating as it was, the duke’s presence offered a great deal of protection. She hated that she didn’t trust her own travel equipage, but in this instance, getting to London as quickly as possible was crucial. Not to mention Finch Cromwell. “Very well.” She looked up at the darkening sky. “I suggest you carry your sturdiest hat and coat, Your Grace.” With that she stepped into the carriage, and once Serena was settled, she tapped the ceiling for Barret to proceed.
They were well on the road to London when the heavens let loose their fury. Though she avoided looking out the window, the guilt gnawed at her.
Serena’s expression remained suspiciously impassive.
“Blast it.” She pounded on the ceiling and Barrett drew the carriage to a stop.
A second later, there was a knock on the window, and a looming figure darkened the interior.
With reluctant fingers, Rebecca lowered the glass.
“What’s wrong?” Ryleigh yelled over the deluge.
“You should ride inside, Your Grace. You’ll catch your death.”
He shot her a wolfish grin that played havoc with her insides. “Is that all? You’re worried for my health? How utterly thoughtful and caring of you.”
“Yes, it is,” she snapped, thoroughly put out with him.
He shook his head with a roar of laughter and cantered away, leaving the elements to plaster her hair against her forehead before shoving the glass back into place as the carriage jerked into motion.
She glanced over at Serena. “I made the offer. That’s all I can do.”
The rain pounded harder, making it impossible to talk; the clouds grew darker, making it impossible to read. The road was so treacherous, she and Serena were forced into grasping the straps to keep their balance.
“I don’t feel so well, milady.”
“Oh, dear.” Again, Rebecca pounded the roof. Before the carriage came to a full stop, she threw open the door and jumped out, then helped Serena down, where the poor girl lost her breakfast all over Rebecca’s skirts. There was nothing for it. Rebecca took Serena by the shoulders and guided her to a ditch, where she proceeded to wretch her guts out. At some point, Rebecca realized the rain was falling around them rather than on them. She looked up and saw Ryleigh sporting an umbrella over hers and Serena’s heads. With a grim smile of thanks, she continued holding Serena’s shoulders. She pushed the hair off her maid’s head and gasped at the heat singeing her palm. She looked up at Ryleigh. “She’s burning up.”
“Is there a coverlet inside?” he said loudly over the rain.
She replied in kind. “No.”
“All right. Let’s get her back inside. She can use your cloak.”
Rebecca took the umbrella from him and stepped aside, allowing Ryleigh to lift Serena. Due to his height, he had to duck for Rebecca to keep the water off the two of them. His hat banged against the top of the carriage entry, and Rebecca barely caught it with her free hand before it landed in the mud. He set Serena on the bench and stood back to assist Rebecca into the carriage.
“The Hanging Moss is just ahead. We’ll stop there for the night. Your maid is obviously unable to travel at this time.”
Nodding, she handed him his hat and the umbrella. She shrugged out of her cloak and wrapped Serena in its silky warmth as the carriage started back down the road.
“I’m so sorry, milady,” Serena whispered. Her body shivered violently.
“Don’t be silly, my dear.” Rebecca touched the back of her hand to Serena’s head. “You hardly planned such a thing.”
“But your dress—I’m so… so embarrassed.”
“Don’t fret. There’s more where that one came from, as you well know.” With a silent prayer for Gabby, Rebecca tucked her cloak more snugly around her maid.