A Death, A Duke, And Miss Mifford - Claudia Stone Page 0,53

was as much a victim of her husband's actions as anyone else, and Henry hoped that he might be able to ease some of the burden she would face in the coming days and weeks.

With Mr Fairweather ensconced inside the carriage with Mr Marrowbone and the two footmen, Henry was forced to ride home on the footman's perch, a rather chilly experience. At Northcott Manor, he, along with Mr Feathers, bid goodbye to the carriage which would journey on to Stroud.

"Goodnight, Your Grace," Mr Feathers said, as he disappeared off to his lodgings--a small cottage on the east side of the grounds.

"My thanks to you for your help," Henry called after him, before making his own way to the stables, where he roused a groomsman to saddle his horse.

The night was clear, with not a cloud in the sky, and Henry rode to Plumpton under the light of the moon and a tapestry of stars. Over the course of his journey, he had wondered if he was being foolish in thinking that Miss Mifford might have waited up so late for him, but as he approached Primrose Cottage, he saw a light in one of the windows. Miss Mifford's face appeared at the sound of his mount's hooves clattering along the path, and she waved down to Henry, before disappearing again.

Henry dismounted and tethered his steed, before making his way up the garden path to the door. It creaked open to reveal Miss Mifford, still dressed in her walking dress from earlier, with a candle in her hand.

"Everyone went to bed hours ago," she whispered apologetically, "Papa said it unlikely that you would call tonight, but I knew that you would come. Tell me, how did it go? Did Fairweather confess?"

Though the night was cold, Henry was warmed by her faith in him. He had promised her that he would return, and her belief in his promise had not wavered, even as the hours had stretched on.

"He confessed only to the poaching," Henry said.

Miss Mifford's face fell with disappointment at this news, and Henry rushed to console her.

"It is to be expected," he explained in a whisper, "Poaching is illegal, but not a capital offence. He might be sent to prison or the penal colonies if he is found guilty of it, but if he is found guilty of murder, he will swing."

"Oh," Miss Mifford bit her lip, "I did not think of that. How wretched though, that he will not come clean when it is so obvious that it is he who is guilty. What did he say about Mr Parsims? Did he admit that he was being bribed?"

"No," Henry shook his head, "Perhaps he thought that if he admitted to that, that it would be seen as a motive by the courts."

"The fiend," Miss Mifford cried, then to Henry's surprise she began to sniffle.

Startled, Henry took the handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to her, and relieved her of the candle so that she might have both hands free.

"I'm sorry," Miss Mifford dabbed her cheeks, "I am just thinking of poor Mrs Walker; I saw her after you left and she is inconsolable."

"I'm afraid you've lost me," Henry replied, wondering who on earth this Mrs Walker was.

Through her tears, Miss Mifford explained about the widow, her relationship with Monsieur Canet, and their engagement which had not yet been publicly announced.

"They decided on the night of the assembly that they would ask my father to read the banns," she finished, more composed now that the act of talking had distracted her from her tears, "That must have been where Monsieur Canet was going when he was spotted out that night, and he must not have wanted to reveal it for fear it might damage her reputation."

The Frenchman had some scruples, Henry thought with a pang of guilt.

A silence fell between them for the first time; Miss Mifford appeared lost in her own thoughts, while Henry felt lost in Miss Mifford. He was so accustomed to seeing her well presented, that he found her dishevelment utterly charming. Strands of her blonde tresses had escaped from her bun and he longed to reach out and tuck them back in, just to see if they felt as silky as they looked.

Desire grew in his belly, as Henry became painfully aware that they were alone. His heart hammered in his chest, so loud that he wondered if Miss Mifford could hear it.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Mary. Mary. Mary.

Miss Mifford glanced up, and Henry wondered