Chapter 15 #2
“A fortnight is not so long, and it will still be the grandest of news as no one else would have heard of it.” Michael leveled a fatherly stare at Rose. “If you do not think you can keep the secret, you must spend the fortnight with Philippa and me.”
Rose’s eyes brightened and she leaned forward. “London in the Little Season?”
Michael’s mouth dropped open. If it had not been such a serious topic, Jane might have laughed at his surprise. Rose was wild for the latest fashions and time in London.
“We are going to Terrace Hall. Your nephew should already be there.”
“Lawrence? I long to see him. But what about school? I have already missed an entire week. I cannot miss more, or I will be terribly behind.”
“Then you must keep the secret. Can you? This is very important, Rose.”
Jane had never seen Michael look so serious other than the day Phil birthed their son and they sat together in the drawing room awaiting news.
Rose solemnly nodded. “I will tell no one about the wedding.”
Phil and Alex joined them.
Alex hugged Jane. “Write to me.”
“Must you go?”
“Grandfather must return as planned. All will be well, I know it.” How could Alex know such a thing? She could wish for happiness but not possibly know.
The departures felt like the day after Michaelmas when everyone left after the harvest fair, and she was left to count days and weeks.
Only now she didn’t know what she was counting toward.
Were they invited to Terrace Hall for Christmas as Jane had planned?
She didn’t know if the Duke accepted his invitation.
She knew nothing about him, other than he was generous, almost too handsome to look at for long, especially in the chapel’s light, and he had enemies.
Those he feared enough to run from his own wedding.
She should have asked that today’s wedding be pushed off until midweek.
At least then, she would have had a chance for a proper conversation with the man whose name and title she now bore.
She should have faced him in Alex’s parlor, bruise or no bruise.
Begged him to come speak with her last evening.
“I will endeavor to share your optimism. Though it seems I am, er, I mean we are off to a precarious start.” Jane did her best to maintain her composure as her grandfather took his leave with Alex and Rose.
Her tiny wedding breakfast was now down to four people, including herself and her mother-in-law.
Thankfully Michael and Phil decided to delay their departure. The question grew larger in the space.
Where was the groom?
The post inn boasted it was one of the best within a thirty-mile radius.
They were not wrong. The beds were comfortable and usually clean.
The stables housed a selection of horses beyond those belonging to the mail.
The yard was busy. A stable hand directed Richard’s coachman to the side as a mail coach was due any minute.
This must have been the scenario when Lightwood made his escape.
Dratted fool man. Did he not understand the consequences? No. In all of his interactions, Lightwood had never once shown a bit of foresight.
The innkeeper waited inside the door. “Your Grace, I did not expect you in person.”
“Do you have any news for me?” If Lightwood had been found, it would be possible to return to Redbridge House near dusk, leaving his new bride alone for less than six hours. No man should leave his bride alone for even six minutes on his wedding day.
The innkeeper held up three sealed missives. “Would you like a private parlor, Your Grace?”
Richard nodded. Though he would only be here a few minutes, long enough to change horses. He wanted privacy to read whatever news there was.
As he read the new messages, Richard pieced together what had happened.
The first note the innkeeper gave him confirmed with more details the message he received at Redbridge saying Lightwood escaped his escorts and boarded the southbound mail coach.
If he had sent Yates this morning, Richard may have avoided this.
Yates, like other footmen hired over the past year, was a former soldier with an exemplary record, skilled in areas that would protect Richard and his family.
Instead, he kept Yates nearby on the minuscule chance Duncan had already learned of the marriage.
A decision Richard regretted as he read the notes.
More troubling than Lightwood’s disappearance was the unfinished letter found in the light traveling chariot.
A letter addressed to Richard’s half-brother, Duncan Kenworth.
A letter that told of Richard’s wedding.
The numerous cross-outs indicated that the crumpled paper might be a draft for another letter.
A letter that, if sent, could ruin all his plans to keep his new wife and future family safe.
The next message was from the other footman, confirming that Lightwood sent not one but two letters.
However, short of robbing the post, it was impossible to know the contents or to whom they were sent.
Twenty minutes after the southbound left, an eastbound public coach passed through.
The footman had not thought that Lightwood could be in the vicinity.
It occurred to him that using the southbound as a decoy would be an excellent ruse.
The footman hired a horse on the Duke’s account and followed the second coach. Thus ended the first missive.
The last letter arrived by express shortly before Richard arrived at the inn. Lightwood had not been on the southbound.
Shackles. Next time he passed an ironmonger’s he was going to order a pair.
Or not. As tempting as the thought was at the moment.
There were laws. He could leave Lightwood to his own devices, and if the fool had not written Duncan, he would have.
Richard needed to know what Lightwood had sent.
Presumably one of his footmen had the portion they found with them.
Richard stirred his cooling tea. Go after Lightwood or return to his bride? Duty versus duty. Pleasant versus painful. Danger versus safety. The choice was not easy. He prayed he had made the right one.