Lady Guinevere and the Rogue with a Brogue - Julie Johnstone Page 0,83
as they were alone. She just prayed he did not trample roughshod over her heart once more. The fragile organ could only handle so much before it broke forever.
Chapter Sixteen
Asher cursed as he knelt in the muck and pouring rain, staring at the broken wheel of his carriage in disbelief. Not only was he leaving Scotland later than he had planned but now he had a broken wheel, which would delay him further. Concern stirred that he would be unable to return to London by Saturday as he had promised Guinevere he would.
Everything that could have gone wrong in the last week had gone wrong. The fire at his distillery that had called him back to Scotland had not been an accident as originally thought, nor had it been overly destructive. Luckily, it had happened when no one was there. He had been unable to discover who had started it, and he’d had to hand over the task of investigating to his right-hand man, Alec. It was yet another bit of ill luck in the past six months, but at least now that his inheritance was at his disposal, he had been able to move funds over to his two smaller distilleries so they could continue operating.
Asher sighed. Examining the wheel and surrounding area, he could not see what could have caused such a break. Not that it mattered a damn bit at the moment. The only important thing was that he would likely not reach London when he had promised he would. He worked quickly to release his horse from the conveyance, and then he mounted the beast. It neighed and reared up, nearly throwing him off. He gripped the reins, managing to stay on and calm the beast. Once the horse was still, Asher dismounted quickly and scanned its body for injuries. It was holding up one of its legs as if not wanting to put pressure on it. He knelt in the sludge and gently lifted the animal’s left leg to examine it.
“Damnation!” He clenched his jaw at the sight of the slipped shoe. “How the devil could that be?” he muttered. The stablemaster had told him the new farrier had reshod Wolferton four days ago.
His temper started to rise as the rain pelted him harder. An image of Guinevere as he’d last seen her in the garden filled his head—her hair flowing over her shoulders, her eyes glistening in the darkening shadows. With her was the only place he wanted to be.
He stood and patted his horse on the flank with some reassuring words. He’d have to tether Wolferton to a tree and walk to get some help. After completing the task, he set off in the rain as the light of day slipped away. Thoughts of Guinevere filled his head as he trudged along the sodden trail. Four offers of marriage, and she’d not said yes to one of them.
I did not love them.
That made him grin until her mother’s words entered his mind.
They were not Kilgore, I suppose.
Devil take the woman and her poisonous tongue. He logically knew she had been trying to needle him and that he should not give it another thought, but logic meant nothing where Guinevere was concerned. Still, he muttered to himself as he trudged along, striving to repress the doubts that had taken their happiness before.
“Are you nervous, Guinnie?” Vivian asked as she put the finishing touches on Guinevere’s hair for her wedding.
Guinevere’s stomach squeezed at the question. “Oh no,” she said, not even trying to keep the sarcasm from her voice. “Whyever would I be nervous?” Before her sister could reply, Guinevere stood and swung toward both of her sisters. “Hmm…let me see.” She set her hands on her hips, her pulse spiking. “Carrington did not return last night as he said he would. Neither his servants nor his brother have heard a word from him.” And Kilgore had been gone all week, as well, so she still had no idea what mo ghraidh meant, nor had she gotten any answers from him as to why he’d done the things he had.
She could hear her voice rising, but she honestly did not care. She was beyond nervous. She was nearly beside herself, which was not at all like her—at least not like her unless Asher was involved. Frederica and Vivian exchanged a long glance, and then Vivian stepped toward Guinevere and slid her arm around her sister’s shoulder while Frederica moved to the window.