Chapter 33
Chapter
Thirty-Three
“ O h, Archie!” Maria chuckled sympathetically. His curly hair was standing on end from the force of the wind, and his cheeks were bright red. Traveling outside the coach was rather closer to the elements than he was used to. Still, he gave her a grin and, with a glance over his shoulder to make sure they were not being observed, a hug.
They were in the stable yard of a coaching inn, awaiting a change of horses. The others were inside the inn partaking of some refreshments but Maria and Archie had quickly scoffed down their own food and drink so that they could spend a moment together, alone.
“My mistress is unhappy.” Maria sighed, speaking aloud the worry that was concerning her the most. “Your master has broken her heart, and I don’t think she’ll ever forgive him. And now Lord Horace’s being hauled off like a criminal. It is not right, Archie.”
“Maria, I know you told Miss Smythe about Mr. Eversham.”
Maria’s eyes widened, and then she gave a little fatalistic shrug. “I’m sorry. I had to tell her. I didn’t want to break my word to you, but?—”
“No, no, I think I knew you’d have to tell her, eventually.”
Maria nodded unhappily, expecting him to accuse her of choosing Tina over him, thinking he wouldn’t understand.
Instead he surprised her.
“This is something they will have to sort out themselves. It isn’t up to us to mend it for them—if it can be mended.”
“I have looked after Miss Tina for many years, Archie.”
“And has she ever asked for your advice? Has she always listened to it?”
“Well . . . not always. She is a strong-willed young woman.”
“I thought so. Maria, let her make her own mistakes. You can’t always be there; you won’t always be there. You have your own life to lead now.”
She opened her mouth to argue, then met his eyes and decided against it. Archie was right. Miss Tina must travel her own path in life.
“I will not have a position as maid after this is over,” she informed him with a little wobble in her voice. “They cannot afford me any longer, so I will have to find another position, or . . . or I can go home. To Spain.”
There, she’d spoken the words that for so long she’d held close to her heart. Home. After all these years.
And yet, strangely, it didn’t have the same appeal as it used to. The vision in her head was still there, the shady groves and the baked plains, but they had the air of something a little old, a little tarnished. And here was Archie in front of her, alive and solid and so very real.
He touched her hand and lifted it to his lips.
“I love you, Maria. I know our relationship started as a job, a way of getting information, but I only had to look into your eyes and all that changed. I want to marry you.”
“Archie . . .”
“No, there’s no need to answer now. I know you want to go home. I wish I could go with you. Perhaps I will. Thumb my nose at the authorities, eh?”
Maria shook her head. She knew if she allowed him to go to Spain, she would be leading him into danger, and she couldn’t do that. This decision was one she alone had to make.
The silence between them lengthened, and soon it was time to climb back inside the coach.
Richard looked up as Tina entered the private parlor, she having been upstairs to the room he’d engaged, to brush her hair and tidy herself. He was alone now, with Will having returned to the coach, and Archie and Maria slipping off somewhere together.
Seeing him she started, made as if to turn and leave again, then changed her mind. Slowly she came to the fire and held out her hands. He could see the shadows under her eyes, the unhappy droop to her mouth, and wished he could make it all better. But that wasn’t going to happen, and he very much doubted she would allow him to try.
You are an expert in situations like this, Richard, a voice in his head chastened him. Who do gentlemen turn to when they have all but given up? You! And why do they come to you? Because you are an expert!
Richard wasn’t quite sure it was the same when it was the expert himself who was seeking to win his ladylove, but in one respect the inner voice was right: What did he have to lose?
“I’m sorry,” he said.
First rule of winning your ladylove: apologize. It doesn’t matter what you are apologizing for, or whether or not you’ve done anything wrong, just apologize, and keep apologizing.
“I’m so sorry, Tina.”
She gave him a suspicious glance before turning back to the fire. “What are you sorry for?”
“Everything.”
“I’d prefer to hear specifics,” she said coldly.
Perhaps this wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d hoped, but then if it were easy, wouldn’t everyone be deliriously happy all the time? She was watching him surreptitiously, trying to read his thoughts, and he put on his most charming and dependable face, aware it was spoiled a little by his black eye. Her response wasn’t promising.
“You lied to me, Richard. You’ve been lying to me from the first day we met. I find that impossible to forgive.”
Ah, so that was the problem. And he didn’t like the way she said “impossible.” Still, he wasn’t going to be put off by an adjective.
“I didn’t know you then, Tina. I was doing a job, a difficult and important job, a job I’d been doing two years. I couldn’t have imagined that the day you came to see me I was going to meet the woman who would mean more to me than . . . than anything else.”
Richard knew his ending was lame; he could have done better there. But Tina had that effect on him, turning his wits to water.
“I love you,” he blurted out.
Her eyebrows lifted, and she curled her lip. “ You love me? I doubt it. I don’t think you have a clue what love means. And if I ever believed myself in love with you, then I’ve learned the error of my ways. You are a stranger, Richard.”
And with that she stalked from the room, leaving him sitting there by the fire, alone.
Richard groaned and rubbed his hands over his face, wincing when he touched his sore eye. Obviously he’d overestimated his expert abilities. This wasn’t going to be easy. But he refused to give up. He would win her back . . . after he’d saved her life.
Sutton watched the group at the inn from the shelter of the trees, eyes narrowed, sitting very still upon his horse, as if he were part of the landscape. Earlier he’d lured one of the stable boys into a quiet spot with a couple of shillings and asked questions; as he expected they were heading for Eversham’s estate in Kent. He intended to leave them now and ride on alone, taking the shorter cross-country route.
He had plans to make.
The woman had seen him, and he knew it would be her testimony that would hang him. He dismissed any threat offered by Branson—he was a fool, and everyone knew it—and as for the other one, the gent—Sutton smirked with derision. No, it was the woman he had to get rid of before the truth came out, and as soon as possible.
He turned his horse and began to ride.
Sutton decided he’d kill her slowly, take his time. He might even kidnap her and hide her away somewhere, taking out his frustrations on her body—she was a beauty. Remembering her now, standing in the library, the shape of her body, her dark hair and white skin, the brilliance of her eyes. A real lady, she was, and Sutton hadn’t had a real lady for a while.
Oh yes, he was going to enjoy himself, and afterward, the devil could have him, he didn’t care. His time was probably up anyway. But just in case it wasn’t, he might head toward Faversham. He had a sister there, who’d always been fond of him, and he of her. She’d look after him and scold him and tell him to behave himself.
Sutton smiled. His soul may be beyond redemption but it was still nice to have someone who loved him.