The Accidental Duke (The Mad Matchmaking Men of Waterloo Book 1) by Devlin, Barbara (the best electronic book reader .txt) 📗

“Even here?” He chuckled, and the last of the harbingers dissipated. “Huddled in the back of a farm wagon, beneath a smelly burlap blanket?”

“Even here, my darling husband.” With her teeth, she grazed his chin. “But worry not, because it will all be over soon. And one day, we will tell our children of our adventure and laugh about it, I promise.”

He hadn’t the heart to dispel her notion or disillusion her. He could only hope she was right.

“Your lordships, we have passed the gates.” Emily urged the horse into a canter. “If only we make it to Weybridge.”

*

Arabella rolled onto her back and rubbed her eyes. When she reached for Anthony, she grasped nothing. Alert in an instant, she lurched upright and discovered the wagon parked before a quaint building marked with a sign that read: Weybridge Inn. They made it. They found their freedom in the town where old tradition claimed Julius Caesar crossed the Thames.

“Are you all right, my lady?” Emily asked, as she still perched in the high back seat. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“I’m fine.” Arabella yawned. “Where is his lordship?”

“He went to find a friend.” The maid stretched tall. “And he bade me not disturb your slumber, given your condition.”

“Emily, I am with child. I am not dying.” Arabella craned her neck and peered over the edge of the box. There was no sign of her husband. “How long has he been gone? It will be dawn, soon.”

“Do not fret, my lady.” Emily glanced over her shoulder, as if she were on guard for a sudden attack. “I am sure we will evade Shaw and his men, should they pursue us. They would have had to navigate the same muddy roads that slowed our progress.”

“True.” Still Arabella could not escape the feeling that they remained vulnerable to discovery and recapture. That prospect she could not abide, as it was doubtful the doctor would keep his prisoners together. Once Shaw discovered she increased, he would send Anthony to an asylum, and she might never see him again. She could not allow that to happen. “But I would just as soon depart for London, even if we must journey in the wagon.”

“My lady, I understand your hurry, but it would be a difficult trip in the best of circumstances.” Emily took Arabella’s hand, as she climbed up to sit beside the servant in the high back seat. “The wagon is no place for you, right now. An extended trip could harm the baby.”

“You are right.” Arabella massaged her sore neck. “I am anxious to get home, to safety. If we can reach the city, we can fight the duke. He detests malicious gossip, and I would grant interviews to every newspaper and scandal sheet in town to protect Lord Rockingham.”

“My lady, look.” Emily pointed toward the mews. “Is that not his lordship and another gentleman coming this way?”

“It is Beaulieu.” Arabella breathed a sigh of relief and waved a welcome. For the first time since they departed Sanderstead, she coveted a small glimmer of hope. “He is here. We will succeed in our escape.”

“Lady Rockingham.” Beaulieu bowed with his customary exaggerated flourish. “And who is the dove at your side?”

“This is Emily, my lady’s maid, and you will mind your manners, Lord Beaulieu,” Arabella warned him. To Anthony, she asked, “Where were you? I woke, and you were not here.”

“It is all right, darling. I was not sure where to find Beaulieu, but luck is on our side, because Weybridge has but one inn. However, it took me a while to wake him, along with his coachman and footmen, and then we had to fetch the stablemaster to hitch the horses to the traveling coach.” To Beaulieu, he said, “Can you help her down?”

“Of course.” Beaulieu stretched his arms and flicked his fingers. Arabella scooted toward him, and he lifted her to the walk, where she sheltered at Anthony’s side. “I understand felicitations are in order.”

“Thank you. I am uncontrollably excited.” Instinctively, she hugged her belly as she scanned the immediate vicinity. “Where are the other Mad Matchmakers?”

“Indisposed, I am afraid.” He frowned. “Greyson resides at his beach cottage. Lord Michael and Lord Warrington remain in the country. It was a stroke of good fortune that I was in London, overseeing the renovations of my new townhouse. Otherwise, your letter would not have reached me. Given the pressing nature of your situation, I thought it best to depart for Weybridge, immediately. However, I did post correspondence to the others, asking them to journey to London, prior to taking my leave of the city. Since I decamped four days ago, they should be there, when we arrive.”

“That is most welcome news.” A stiff breeze rustled her hair, and she shivered. “It is quite chilly tonight.”

“I think it is almost morning.” Anthony took her by the elbow. “Let us wait inside the inn, where it is warm. The stablemaster will bring the coach around when it is ready.”

The care with which her husband tended her did much to calm her nerves, and she accepted his proffered escort. Telling herself they would make their break, she believed they would find safe haven in London, where they would challenge the Duke of Swanborough’s actions.

Inside the charming inn, an innkeeper stood behind a tidy counter. He smiled and dipped his chin, as they crossed the foyer and walked into a small sitting room, where a fire burned in the large hearth, and Anthony led her to an overstuffed chair. From a well-used sofa, he drew a lap blanket, which he tucked about her legs. Then he bent and kissed her forehead.

“Thank you, my lord.” He winked, and she noted the lines of strain about his eyes. She wished she could spare him the stress of their misadventure, but his father left them no choice. In silence, she vowed the duke would pay for his affront. She didn’t know when or how, but she would exact recompense for