Married to the Rogue (Season of Scandal #3) - Mary Lancaster Page 0,88
the lantern.
As he found the flint, he heard light footsteps on the road, and in the glow of the passing lantern, he glimpsed a woman wrapped in a cloak. The hood was pulled up over her hair, hiding her face, and the only visible part of her was the hand holding the lantern. He only saw her for an instant, and she could have been anybody, but something in the quiet dignity of her posture and, in her unconscious grace of movement, caught his attention.
Dropping the flint back in his pocket with the lantern unlit, he urged Nightshade the few paces back to the road. The woman hurried on before him. He could see now that she looked uncharacteristically furtive, as though she were afraid of being recognized.
No wonder. She was his wife.
*
“It’s late,” Lucy said, scowling at Lizzie and Stephen as she closed the front door behind their visitor. “You two should be in bed. So should the rest of us.”
“Exactly,” Mrs. Shelby said. She had extinguished the lamps and candles in the parlor and carried one to light them upstairs. “All of us to bed!”
Obediently, they let her herd them before her and separated into their own chambers with yawns and goodnights.
But as Lucy closed her bedchamber door, she found Lizzie no longer yawning but taking her hand and squeezing it tightly.
“Chris does love her, too, doesn’t he?” Lizzie said in a small voice.
“I think he wouldn’t have troubled to come if he didn’t.”
“I like him,” Lizzie stated.
“So do I,” Lucy allowed.
A faint scratch on the door was the only warning before Giles and Stephen slipped almost silently into the room.
“I’m going to watch the inn,” Giles said. “Just for a couple of hours.”
Lucy stared. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“We knew grownups would say that, which is why we didn’t tell you before,” Lizzie said.
“And why we didn’t tell Chris either,” Giles said. “At least, not in so many words. When I said we would keep an eye on the place, I meant we already were. George and Jack were watching until eleven for us.”
Lucy glared at him. “You told village children our business?”
“Of course not.” Giles glared back. “They only know we’re suspicious of Crosse and want to know what he’s up to. If he went anywhere, Jack would come and let me know.”
“And he hasn’t, so this Crosse is clearly tucked up in his bed,” Lucy retorted. “As you should be in yours.”
“I meant to be there at eleven,” Giles confessed. “But Chris was here. Anyway, things happen at midnight, don’t they? And I should just make it if I hurry.”
“What things?” Lucy demanded. “What exactly do you expect him to do in the middle of the night? Flee without paying his account at the inn?”
“Perhaps,” Giles stubbornly. “I have to know. If nothing moves, I’ll come back in an hour. Or two.”
“No, Giles,” Lucy said firmly. “You can’t.”
“We’re going with him,” Stephen piped up.
“You are not!” Lucy exclaimed.
Lizzie tugged her hand. “Please, Lucy. It might help Deborah.”
Lucy scowled at her. “I don’t see how!”
“Yes, you do,” Lizzie said with a grin. “Don’t tell, Lucy. Giles will look after us.”
“Yes, but who will look after Giles?”
“We will,” Stephen assured her.
Lucy groaned. “Drat you, am I never to see my bed? Come on then, fetch your cloaks. I know I am going to regret this.”
*
Now that the moment was upon her, Deborah knew she could cope. There was no other choice if she wished to save everyone and maintain the possibility of continued happiness with Christopher.
No one saw her leave Gosmere Hall by the side door, she was sure, and she encountered no one in the long, dark walk to Coggleton. As she hurried through the village, her heart pounded from more than the brisk exercise. She disliked confrontation. She thoroughly disliked Barden. But she would do what she had to.
The houses and other buildings were in darkness, even the inn, where the doors were closed for the night. Her timepiece showed her that it still lacked twenty minutes until midnight, which was all to the good. It gave her time to look around, to become familiar with her surroundings before she confronted Barden and his extortion.
Shading her lantern with her cloak, she entered the inn gates, which, fortunately, remained open, and crept around the side of the house, keeping close to the walls.
The stables were at the back in a sprawling single story. She doubted any of the ostlers slept there since Coggleton was some distance from the