Chapter 11
“My lady, I must protest this journey,” Farley pleaded the next morning as she walked to the carriage.
Unlike the day before, she decided not to dress as a maid, but in the full grandeur of her station.
She had chosen a copper silk dress with gold embroidery, silk bronze-dyed gloves, and gold jewelry that complemented her honey-brown eyes.
It was by far her boldest gown and one she never had the courage to wear before—until today.
“Your protests have been heard, Farley,” she said briskly, stopping before the carriage door. She looked at him with an air of authority and nodded toward the door. “And ignored.”
Farley’s look of discomfort grew deeper, but he reached out and opened her door for her.
“The Duke of Redgrave was most insistent that I not take you anywhere else that could cause damage to your reputation,” he said in a last-ditch effort to dissuade her.
Bridget paused with one foot in the carriage, caught between annoyance and excitement at the mention of Adrian’s name.
Unbidden, her mind conjured the memory of his strength, the way he had loomed over her in the alley, his voice dark and commanding as his presence had pinned her in place.
The thought of being held there again made her breath hitch and her thighs press together beneath her skirts.
Mortified by the vividness of it, Bridget realized that her face had turned red.
“Does the Duke of Redgrave pay your wages, dear Farley?” Bridget found her voice.
Farley bowed his head in defeat.
“No, my lady,” he answered quietly.
“Does he remember your birthday? Give you gifts? Have soup brought to you when you are feeling ill?” Bridget questioned.
Farley’s look of guilt grew worse.
“No, my lady. It is you who shows me such kindness,” he answered in the same quiet tone.
“Then off to Alfriston we go,” she said matter-of-factly, as she finished climbing into the carriage. “Though I do appreciate your concern for me.”
Farley’s smile was small, defeated as he bowed respectfully toward her, then closed the carriage door. A moment later, the carriage was pulling away from the Winslow Estate’s drive, heading south to make its way out of London.
In the quietness of the carriage, Bridget’s thoughts, just as they had the night before after she had returned home, drifted to Adrian once more.
It was only after she had stripped out of the ruined dress and sunk herself into the bath that she fully realized how much danger she had put herself in yesterday.
If he had not shown up, what would have happened?
Would that Tommy fellow have dragged her inside?
Would he or the other men there have believed her protests if she had explained that she was actually a countess and not a courtesan?
She shivered, thinking about the possibilities.
Then a different sort of shiver took over her as she recalled the spark of heat she felt every time Adrian had grown close to her.
The thought of any other man being so close made her stomach lurch in discomfort, but Adrian’s proximity made her feel something else entirely.
“Stop it,” she murmured aloud to herself.
Though even as she spoke the chastisement, she noted how the shame she had felt for such awareness the night before had lessened considerably within just a few short hours.
So what if she found the Duke of Redgrave attractive?
It was not as if anything would actually happen between them.
In fact, she was almost relieved that she was attracted to someone.
Her lack of feeling for her own husband had at times concerned her; it made her wonder if she could even feel such things at all.
The sudden lurch of her carriage had brought Bridget’s spiraling thoughts to a halt, and she clung to the seat just as she was about to be pitched forward.
“Farley!” she called. “What is the matter?”
The door to her carriage flew open, and she was greeted with Farley’s worry-filled eyes.
“Is all well?” she asked.
“I am afraid not, my lady,” he said, helping her out of the carriage.
“We have a broken wheel, and we are right in the middle of the country road that leads to Alfriston,” he explained.
“Meaning what, precisely?” Bridget asked, hurrying around to the opposite side of the carriage.
Her shoulders slumped, and her heart sank as she saw the damage. Then, as if that were not enough, a distant sound of thunder rumbled from above.
“It means that it is an equally long walk to London or Alfriston for help,” Farley answered glumly.
Bridget fought the urge to groan and drop her head into her hands.
Could I just have one thing go my way?
“Come along then,” Bridget said with a sigh. “Let us walk on to Alfriston. At least if we head in that direction, we will not lose any progress.”
She started to walk, but to her surprise, Farley grabbed hold of her wrist and frantically replied, “My lady, no!”
She tugged at his hold, and, as if realizing what he had just done, Farley quickly let go and bowed low, offering his apologies.
“It is all right,” she forgave him. “Just tell me what you mean.”
“It may look safe at the moment, my lady, but this road is notorious for bandits. If they spot the likes of you walking down the road in such jewels and finery, I fear what they would do. I would protect you as best I could, of course, but these bandits often travel in groups.”
Bridget took in the raw worry in Farley’s eyes and knew he was simply not trying to dissuade her from her intended journey. However, the thought of staying inside her broken carriage for the next few hours railed hard against her. She would not give up this easily!
Bridget looked up at the sky, trying to think of a new plan as she watched the pleasant blue slowly start to shift toward gray. The day had started out so well, but now, like the weather, it was quickly souring.
“Oh, thank heaven,” Farley sighed as Bridget heard the sound of approaching hoofbeats and wheels.
She turned toward the sound and echoed his relief as they saw a carriage approaching from London. It was clear from the dressing of the horses and the driver in the front that those inside were nobles. Perhaps with luck, it would be someone she knew, and she could beseech them for help.
Yet as the carriage drew up beside them and a familiar face popped out from the carriage window, Bridget grimaced.
“Oh no,” she muttered as she met Adrian’s rage-filled eyes.
“Are you quite serious?” Adrian barked.
He then ducked his head back inside his carriage and opened the door.
His tall figure climbed out of the back, as per usual, dressed in a dark suit that defined his muscles a little too well.
Bridget’s cheeks flushed red as she drew her gaze up and down his body and felt that now-familiar spark of attraction.
This is the last thing you should be thinking about!
“I told you that I would go to Alfriston to investigate, and I would inform you of the results of my research. Must you always be so stubborn?” Adrian stated, walking up to her. “It seems ever since I met you, I have found you precisely in my way. Or are you possibly doing it on purpose?”
Bridget chortled, for some reason finding his tone of annoyance most amusing, then suddenly clapped her hand over her mouth as he narrowed his gaze at her.
“How could a broken carriage wheel be my fault?” she asked, then snickered. “Please, Your Grace, I would love to hear your logic on this. Would you not believe it to be coincidental?”
“Not this many times,” Adrian said flatly.
Bridget’s humor faded a little as she took in his most serious expression.
“I told you I would be continuing my search for my husband,” she said, fluffing out her skirts. “Seeing as I am not your responsibility, you cannot expect me to obey you.”
“Do not cross me,” Adrian warned, taking a step toward her. “I am in no mood today. Do you have any idea how—”
“I swear,” Bridget hissed, feeling her annoyance shift to rage. “If you chastise me one more time on the dangers of my efforts, I will kick your shin just as I kicked Tibault’s last night.”
Adrian’s jaw as well as Farley’s dropped open at her words, and Bridget used their shocked silence to take the opportunity to gather her thoughts and her temper.
“Your Grace,” she said, forcing a polite tone.
“I am aware that you do not approve of my participation in the search for my husband. However, I must remind you that I, too, have been horribly affected by his poor behavior. Just as no one can tell you to stop looking for your brother’s murderer, no one can tell me to stop looking for the man who has brought me so much shame and humiliation. ”
“Lady Winslow…”
“No. Do you understand how tired I am? How very tired I am of feeling ashamed, or meek? Or believing that if I am sweet and obedient, I will be rewarded? Well, I will tell you that I have been such a way my entire life, and all it has gotten me is this terrible mess!”
“Now please,” she went on, giving him an imploring look. “Do not waste time scolding me. Take us with you to Alfriston. Farley will find help there for the carriage, and you and I may approach my husband’s mistress together. Or, if luck is on our side, approach the man himself.”
Adrian looked at her for a long, intense moment, his sharp jaw ticking with obvious irritation as he so clearly turned her words over and over in his head.
“Fine,” he gritted out at last.
As he said so, another rumble of thunder resounded from a distance, followed by a stiff, cool breeze.
“I suppose I cannot leave you out here to drown,” he muttered.
“Thank you,” she said sweetly.
“Farley,” he then barked, “Join my driver. And you, get in the carriage before I change my mind.”