Chapter Twenty-Six
A deline lifted off him and began to straighten her clothes. He reluctantly also buttoned his trousers. He could not wait to get her to Bridestone Manor and into a big bed with only days and days of lovemaking to look forward to. Damn the ghosts. They could enjoy the show. The rest of the day was blissfully uneventful. They stopped to change horses and eat, but other than those necessities, they traveled quickly toward their destination. Adeline read aloud some of the novel she was reading, and he listened and dozed. But the closer they got to their destination, the more unsettled he felt.
As they approached West Bay, he looked out the window at the long coastline lined with tall rugged cliffs. The sea air was a welcome familiar scent. It and the lush green landscape filled his soul. It had been so long since he’d been home.
Adeline slipped her hand on top of his and squeezed his fingers. “You seem unusually quiet this last hour. Are we near?”
“Yes. We should be in the village in another mile or so. Tonight, we will stay at the inn. I am not sure about the status of the house. I have been told I pay for a caretaker, but that doesn’t mean it’s ready for guests.”
She nodded but didn’t ask any more questions, and he was glad. He wasn’t ready to talk about the house or the tragedy that had befallen his family. Not tonight, anyway. They arrived in the village around eight o’clock. Malcolm stepped out of the vehicle and reached to help Adeline down. The Black Sheep Inn was just the same as he remembered. A long two-story building, stucco with black shutters and a thatched roof that was common in the area. The stable across the lane was new, though. He could smell the fresh pine planks. The black barn doors painted to match the inn’s facade.
They walked inside the Black Sheep and the front hall was empty. Malcolm gripped Adeline’s hand and turned down a hall, following the sounds of conversation and a fiddle playing a lively tune. Down the short hallway, they found a large parlor with several tables and a long bar. A fire roared in a stone fireplace at one end. At their appearance in the doorway, a portly gentleman rounded the bar and hurried over to them.
“Welcome. What can I help you with?”
“I will need a room for the night for me and my wife and space in the stables for my post chaise and coachman.”
“Yes, sir. Please come in.” The man pulled his register from behind the bar. “Name?”
“Marquess of Kingsbury.”
The music screeched to a halt as the fiddler’s bow dropped to the ground with a clatter. Malcolm looked up to find every head in the place had swiveled to stare at him. He tipped his hat at the crowd. Adeline arched an eyebrow as she glanced up at him.
“The Marquess of Kingsbury?” The innkeeper cleared his throat. “Pardon the stares. But there hasn’t been a Marquess of Kingsbury to step foot in Kites Croft in fifteen years.”
“Yes, well, I have been at sea with the Royal Navy. But now I am back. Our visit here was unexpected, and I was not able to send a man out first to make sure the manor was ready.”
The innkeeper nodded and busied himself writing in the register. But Malcolm did not miss the loaded glance he threw toward a table by the fireplace. The three men who sat there finished off their ales, rose and, shrugging into coats, walked out of the parlor.
“Welcome home, my lord. I have a fine room for you and your wife on the second floor.”
“Excellent. I am told the manor is taken care of by a caretaker. Might you know the name of the man? We would like to go in the morning to see the state of the house. I am hoping it is livable.”
“That’ll be Mr. Ford. I am not sure myself the condition of the house but I can send for Mr. Ford in the morning if you like.”
“Yes, thank you. We have a trunk and one satchel to bring up.”
“Yes, my lord. Follow me, please.”
They were led back through the front room and up the stairs. The corridor had six doors. They followed the innkeeper to the last door on the left. “’Tis facing the back gardens, so quieter for you.” The man opened the door and ushered them inside. “I will send a maid up to warm the bed. Will you be needing any vittles from the kitchen?”
Malcolm glanced down at Adeline, who shook her head. “No, we are fine for tonight.” Once alone, he pulled Adeline into his arms. She rested her head on his chest, and he took a deep breath. The startled reaction to his arrival had been strange but perhaps not so out of place since it was true that he hadn’t come home since his brother passed.
“What an oddly dramatic reaction to your name. Do all those people downstairs live here in the village?”
He shrugged. “I suppose they must if they were so surprised to see me.”
“And those three men got up and left rather quickly after we arrived.”
“I noticed them, too. Don’t worry, they weren’t the same men who pursued us in Sailsbury. They must be locals off to spread gossip.” He shook his head. “I am so tired. I don’t care who says what tonight. I will deal with all the speculation and details tomorrow.”
Adeline peered up at him with that pensive look of hers that meant she was thinking hard about something. What he said was true; he was too tired to think about being Kingsbury. It still felt pretend, much like his calling Adeline his wife. But hopefully, sometime soon, he would be able to make both of those titles genuine.
He slid a finger down the slope of her nose. “Let’s go to bed.”