The Prince's Bride

Chapter Twenty-Six

Killian Crewes had known both of them would be inside Gabriel’s room; likely in some manner of half dress. Elise had been less prepared. When Ryan stumbled from the bedroom, clutching her unfastened dress to her body, Elise reacted like a bird flew at their faces.

Gabriel, clad also in only a sheet, rushed behind her and rested two hands on his wife’s shoulders.

“When did the letter arrive?” Ryan asked, reaching for the paper in Killian’s hand.

“Just now, actually,” Killian said. “We were seeing off the Stanhopes when a rider clattered up. It’s expensive to dispatch a runner in the night, but your aunt was right to do it. Based on what you’ve said of Maurice—especially as it pertains to your youngest sister—there is no time to spare.”

“No,” Ryan agreed. “No, there’s not. I must go. I must go now. Diana wrote this letter on Friday. That was six days ago. This means Maurice has been prowling around Winscombe for nearly a fortnight. Diana will protect Charlotte—but who will protect Diana? She is impatient and outspoken and prone to arguments. If he launched his dogs at me, what will her insubordination invite? I must leave here. I must go to them right away.” She scanned the stables like a woman who intended to ride away in a bedsheet.

Finally, Gabriel spoke. “You cannot travel in the middle of the night, Ryan. Remember Channing Meade? You’ll make the same progress if you pack tonight, sleep for a few hours, and leave at sunrise. You’ll make London by Saturday and Portsmouth by the next day.”

“I cannot spare the detour to London. My aunt will understand. I’ll go to Portsmouth directly. This will save time, correct?” She looked around frantically, searching each person’s face.

“A little,” consented Killian. He dared not look at Gabriel. His brother-in-law must step up; he must do the correct thing. But the decision had to come from Gabriel. Neither Elise nor Killian could coerce him. If nothing else, Gabriel could ride with her as far as Portsmouth—they’d make better time on horseback. Killian was happy to put them in his carriage, but if she meant to sprint to the coast, she should leave her maid and her trunk and ride on fast horses.

“What of Mr. Soames?” Ryan asked suddenly, looking up from the letter. “We’ve not yet met with him.”

Killian shook his head. “He’s expected any day, but he’s not here now. Obviously.”

“Right,” she said. “Well, I have our marriage license. It’ll be Maurice’s word against mine. If nothing else, my claim of being a married woman will slow things down. Perhaps this will give Mr. Soames time to travel to us.”

“I’ll go.”

The words came from Gabriel.

Thank God.Killian steeled his face to have no reaction, but Elise was not so controlled. She slapped a hand over her mouth and gave a small, ecstatic bounce.

Lady Ryan swung about, gaping at her husband.

“I’ll go,” Gabriel repeated; his tone broached no argument. “You cannot go alone. I can help you. I am not without honor, Ryan; please don’t insult me with the suggestion that I would send you to face him alone.”

“But—” began Ryan.

“Please,” Gabriel said, his voice as hard as rock.

“Fine,” Ryan said. “What of your horses and your camp?”

“We’ll leave at first light, just as Killian said,” Gabriel told her. “If his driver will convey us to Pewsey, we’ll hire horses there and change mounts every few hours. It’s the fastest way.”

“Thank you,” she breathed.

“Elise, can I impose on you to assist her with her dress and see her safely and discreetly inside?” Gabriel asked. “I must ride to camp to set things to rights and fetch a few items.”

“What can I do?” asked Killian.

Gabriel shook his head. “This is my responsibility.”

“It’s not,” insisted Ryan firmly.

“Go,” Gabriel ordered. “We ride at dawn.”