Chapter Twenty-One
Gideon donned his leather riding gloves as he came down the stairway at the Boar’s Head.
The Tudor-style coaching inn with its dark-wood beams and welcoming staff was located a few miles outside of Bracknell.
When he had come upon it, Gideon thought it might be more prudent if he stayed here instead of his original plan to ride on to Bracknell and attempt to find lodging there.
This way he was close but not too close to Violet, on the off chance she gave him a chilly welcome.
He was expecting a berating much like the one he had received from his sister-in-law and was convinced that a fair amount of groveling on his part would be needed if he wished to redeem himself in the eyes of the lady.
He more than deserved whatever set down Violet would give him.
He could hardly forgive himself for jumping to conclusions about her.
How would Violet even give him a second’s notice to allow him time to plead his cause and offer his heartfelt apology?
He’d be lucky if he got two words out.
Patience had told him Violet would most likely be at her apothecary shop and if not there, at the family mercantile.
He was still pleasantly surprised that his lady was so skilled as to be the owner of the shop but he should have realized such a fact from the treatment he had received at her hands.
He took a moment to appreciate her talent and how much she had affected him.
If he hadn’t told her she needed to leave Dr. Thornberry’s, he might have had to call for a special license to see them wed.
He had been that close to showing Violet how desirable she was in his mind.
Hardly the time or place while he was convalescing, and yet he still used her remedies for his pain and headaches long after she had left the doctor’s residence.
“Captain Tyler!” a voice called once he’d descended the stairs. He turned to see Mrs. Myers coming from the kitchen area holding a small linen parcel. She thrust the wrapped package into his hands; whatever was inside was still warm.
“You cannot leave the Boar’s Head on an empty stomach, Captain Tyler,” the owner declared with a cheery smile set on her round face. “My husband would give me a set down for the rest of my life, letting a guest leave without breakfast.”
He took the offering with a nod of thanks. “You are too kind, Mrs. Myer. I will certainly recommend your inn to any of my friends who might travel this way.”
“Why bless my soul… that is too generous but we appreciate such thoughtfulness. I’m always thankful for travelers who stay here rather than in Bracknell.
Your kind words about our place will be good for any future business.
I just know it.” She beamed again and he watched her gray curls bob as she wiped her hands on the apron tied around her waist. “Will we see you for the evening meal, good sir? Mr. Myer has a whole boar being smoked out back for tonight. It’s what we’re famous for; surely don’t want to miss it. ”
“I may be back sooner than planned if my reason for traveling to Bracknell fails,” he murmured politely.
“I’ll keep some warm for you in case you return late,” she declared. “Safe travels, Captain Tyler. Your horse should be saddled and waiting for you out front.”
He gave her a nod and left the coaching inn.
As the owner had informed him, his horse was indeed readied, and waiting for him at the mounting block.
A stableboy held the reins while he double checked the girth out of habit from his days in the calvary.
Once everything was secure to his satisfaction, he placed one booted foot in the stirrup, swung his free leg over the saddle, and settled himself into place, gathering the reins as he did so.
Then, with a touch of his heels into his steed’s side, they were off at a brisk walk before moving into a trot.
There was no sense pushing the horse into a gallop.
Bracknell wasn’t far and the hour was still early.
Violet might not even have been at her apothecary at this hour of the morning.
As he ate the fresh bread and cheese Mrs. Myer had provided him, he slowed his mount and took in the view.
The countryside had rolling hills and forests he had become used to as he traveled farther from the city.
Since he had nothing to occupy his mind other than how he hoped his conversation with Violet might occur, he began to rehearse what he planned to say to her.
But his mind began to wander to their past encounters.
He sighed as he remembered waking up from one of the most pleasant dreams he had ever had while recovering at Dr. Thornberry’s.
He never expected that his dream had become a reality when he saw his angel in the flesh and those cerulean-blue eyes that seemed to bore into his soul.
Her fingertips, when she had massaged his temples, had such a calming effect on him.
At the time, he had wished to never let the lady leave his side.
Admitting he had feelings for her even though they barely knew one another was hard to hold back but she had never left his mind from the time he first saw her on the Lyon’s Den gallery balcony.
His own foolish words had killed the intimacy that had quickly grown between them. He had been such a fool. He could only pray that she would now—somehow—forgive him.
The possibility of something good coming from traveling to see her filled his chest with a warm feeling.
He still worried about her safety and perhaps this continued to be his main concern above anything else.
Even if she rejected his offer for them to return to seeing one another, he would still offer her his protection.
He had no doubt that Dawkes would persist in his vendetta against him and use Violet as his weakness.
Yes… the lady was indeed a weakness of his and even while he pondered what their possible relationship might be in the future, his mind was clouded with thoughts of Dawkes and their recent conversations.
The man had something against him going back to their days in France.
He even half admitted to knowing something about what might have caused Gideon’s injury, which could have been fatal.
The confusion when he woke up injured in some unknown location had had him searching for anything that might have been familiar.
The doctor and nurses had told him he was in France and had been brought to their hospital for treatment from his injuries at the Battle of Waterloo.
Flashes of memory had been jumbled in his head, his face and head throbbing in pain had been a clear indication that what they told him was true.
But when they asked for his name, there was nothing.
Not even a glimpse of who he might be. They had reassured him that eventually his memory would return but in the meantime, he was to rest and heal.
And that was exactly what he had done for what choice in the matter did he have when he didn’t have any inkling of who he was.
The loss of his memory for almost two long years was almost too much to bear but he had warred with himself that this was better than not waking up at all.
And then, just as they had predicted, one bright and sunny morning, he remembered his name and that he had a family waiting for his return back in England.
He didn’t remember much of what caused his injury but he knew that that, too, would one day return.
Still… the matter worried him on more than one occasion and with Dawkes’s conversation flitting through his mind, Gideon was determined to find out the answers he needed to fill in those missing memories.
Once he returned to London, he would speak to Asher and perhaps between his brother and his connections, they might learn something about Dawkes and if he was actually involved with Gideon’s injuries.
He shook himself out of his sudden melancholy mood.
No sense being so glum when he needed all his energy to convince Violet of his sincerity.
He had never been so nervous in his life that he could recall.
Not even going into battle—at least, he didn’t think so—had filled him with such anxiety as did about whatever awaited him in Bracknell.
But for good or bad, he was about to find out because he had reached the outskirts of town and he could already hear the hustle and bustle of a thriving community.
As he entered the country town on High Street, he took notice of two coaching inns across the street from one another, the Black Lion and the Raven.
Carriages and horses were already being brought around to the front of both establishments.
Creaking wheels, horses neighing, and drivers yelling for others to get out of their way proved to Gideon that Bracknell was well established and visited.
How lucky that they had Violet and her apothecary shop to aid in whatever illnesses might occur here.
He gave a smirk thinking back to when Patience told him that although Violet’s brother was the owner on paper, it was really Violet who had kept the place running.
Her grandfather must have had a premonition that she would succeed upon his passing.
The Barnet name was prominent on the signage above the shop.
He pulled on the reins of his horse once he was in front of the apothecary.
He was about to dismount when his entire world began to move in slow motion.
Only one person on this world had this effect on him and he held his breath as he watched his lady round the corner of the shop and stroll along the walkway.
She was looking down into her reticule and he watched her as she pulled out a key.
Then she raised her head; their eyes met.
She stumbled before raising her hand to her chest.