When a Duchess Says I Do - Grace Burrowes Page 0,80
he was nonetheless a mere employee. One whose life was forfeit in the interest of a king who’d never done an honest day’s work in his exorbitantly expensive, indolent, royal life.
“Do you ever resent that livery, Nairn?”
“No, sir. I have honorable work, good teams, and generous pay.”
The breeze was picking up, and at this time of year, all breezes were bitter. Parker was bitter, unlike the coachman, who was grateful simply to stay out of the wet. Parker’s pay was not generous—not in peacetime—his shaving water was rarely as hot as he liked it, his tea never strong enough.
While his lordship the marquess, who’d never charged into enemy bayonets, had all the luxury and comfort a man could waste.
Matilda held the key to improving Parker’s fortunes, and he honestly hoped to spare her any criminal repercussions. She was sensible for the most part, and she’d bring some wealth to the marriage—always a fine thing in a bride.
“The White Pony is on the right,” Nairn said, as a huddle of buildings came into view at the bottom of a gentle declivity. “Humble, but it’s as close to Brightwell as we’ll get, if those two swindlers can be believed.”
“They played an honest game, Nairn. I simply wanted to curry their favor with some easy coin. Their directions have proven accurate so far.” Herman and Jeffrey had been left with the coach in the last village, the better to afford Parker time to gather intelligence unobserved. “We’ll scout the terrain tomorrow while the coach is being repaired. Miss Wakefield has been wandering this long, she won’t leave a comfortable nest when she doesn’t have to.”
“And if she chooses to remain in that comfortable nest?”
The village huddled in the bleak winter moonlight, a feeble glow spilling from a few windows.
“I’ll arrest her if she proves difficult. I care for my intended very much, but I know my duty.”
Nairn remained silent, though Parker had spoken nothing but the simple truth. Either way—arresting Matilda or marrying her—Parker’s fortunes would improve, and no superior officer would fault him for that objective.
Chapter Fourteen
“I would like to hear Stephen’s version of your stay in Prague,” Matilda said. “Yours was enraptured, agog at the beauty and history of the city.”
Duncan had given her the first turn behind the privacy screen, and yet, she needed to hear his voice as she took down her hair, needed to know he wasn’t summoning the footmen. The fear was ridiculous. Duncan Wentworth had given his word to help her, and he was spending the night with her.
Nonetheless, she was uneasy, once again thinking like a fugitive.
“Prague is unlike any other city we visited,” Duncan said. “I gather you’ve never been?”
“I have not. Moscow, three times, but never Prague.” The woman in the mirror was familiar and strange. She resembled the Matilda who’d seen much of the Continent with Papa, and yet, she was older, wiser, no longer innocent.
No longer simply Thomas Wakefield’s chess-playing oddity of a daughter, a woman without a country, or an eccentric nobleman’s British wife.
“I cannot believe the average Englishman will go much farther afield than Paris and Rome.” Duncan spoke over the sound of covers being turned back and batted smooth. “A pity, when great treasures lie farther afield. You could run, Matilda. Take up residence overseas.”
You could run. “Would you run with me?”
“Yes. We can leave in the morning.”
She braced herself against the washstand, unprepared for that swift, affirmative reply. “Duncan, if you come with me, you are…never mind.” They’d had that argument, and Duncan was nothing if not astute.
She unpinned her hair and applied the brush. “You should send your essay on Prague to the London publishers. Everybody raves about or complains about Paris or Rome. Your material is fresh, and your style original. People pay money for good writing, I’m told.”
Wearing nothing but his silk trousers, Duncan appeared behind her in the mirror. “If we leave England, we will live a precarious existence, always anticipating the Crown’s reach. Our children will be raised to the same life you abhorred, never staying in one place for long, never forming lasting friendships. Always wondering why Mama and Papa change the subject when their quiet conversations are interrupted by a child. Is that what you want, Matilda?”
That was exactly what she did not want. “I want to live. I want my father to live to a ripe old age surrounded by good art.” She also wanted a family with Duncan.