take your name in vain, Radbourne?” A tall man sauntered from the castle.
Hmm. Sorcha had had no idea that Maddie’s oldest brother was acquainted with the Hadley men. That was most useful information.
Lord Bexley strode toward the wolfish trio who still sat atop their horses. The earl’s groom tossed him the reins to his own horse. “Heaven forbid anyone should make such an egregious error as to call Archer Hadley a gentleman,” Bexley joked merrily as he mounted.
“Who’s the extra horse for?” Lord Radbourne asked. “Is Robert in residence?”
Bexley shook his head. “My brother is still hiding somewhere in Yorkshire. No, I’ve asked Mr. MacQuarrie to join us. Hope you don’t mind,” he said glancing toward the door. “He should be here in a moment.” Bexley turned his gaze back at the Hadley men. “You are acquainted with MacQuarrie, aren’t you?”
“Indeed,” Lord Radbourne grumbled, appearing less than pleased by the addition to their party.
“Had anyone told me this night had gone to the dogs, I’d have probably cried off,” Sorcha heard Alec reply as his long legs ate up the distance from the main door to where his horse stood saddled and ready for him. She fought the grin that pulled at the corners of her lips. Gone to the dogs.
She snorted a little as she covered a giggle with her hand.
Alec took the reins and hoisted himself atop the beautiful beast as smoothly as a cavalry officer. “Shall we?” he asked.
Just then, Lord Radbourne must have noticed her as she hung so indecorously out the window, trying to capture their every word, because he doffed his hat and bowed his head toward her. “Miss Ferguson,” he called, which had everyone’s head turning in her direction. It was much too late to duck behind the curtain at this point. So, instead, she simply waved at the collection of men beneath her window.
“Such a vision of loveliness, Miss Ferguson. Should I stay and be your companion for the evening?” Lord Radbourne asked. Not even a hint of a smile crossed his lips. He simply regarded her stoically, waiting for her response.
She opened her mouth to reply, but Alec spoke first.
“Miss Ferguson can do much better than the company of mutts like you.”
“Beg your pardon, MacQuarrie,” Weston Hadley replied, fingering the scar on his cheek. “Unless you’d like to discuss your own bloody habits, I’d suggest you leave ours in good company where they belong.”
Sorcha noticed the use of the word “bloody,” and Alec must have as well, because he simply swung his mount around and headed down the lane.
“Until next time, Miss Ferguson.” Lord Radbourne touched the brim of his beaver hat in farewell and followed Alec down the drive.
Sorcha could hardly believe her luck. Finally, she’d spotted her coveted Lycans… But they were moving as far and as fast away from her as they could. She wouldn’t have it. Her destiny lay with one of those Lycans; she just knew it.
After all, Cait and Elspeth had both married beasts of that variety and they were gloriously happy. The Hadley men were as close to perfection as Sorcha was going to get.
She jumped to her feet, searching everywhere for her dark cloak. She finally located it in one of her many trunks and tossed it over her arm. She smoothed her dress in front of the looking glass and found her appearance to be quite normal.
They were headed to Folkestone, according to Lord Radbourne. She and Maddie had gone into the village the previous afternoon. It was fairly close, all things considered.
If only she had some clue as to their ultimate destination once they reached the village, she’d know how to dress.
Well, there was nothing for it. She’d have to go as she was.
Sorcha crept from her room before realizing she was drawing attention to herself. Foolish. She’d do much better to act as though she wasn’t up to something nefarious. She rose to her full height and smoothly made her way to the main level.
Luckily, the household was teeming with people. When she streaked out the door and toward the stables, no one even took notice. The groom, Johnny, sat outside the stables on the edge of a wooden fence, his feet wedged between the boards to keep himself in place. When he saw Sorcha approach, he dropped to the ground to stand before her.
“Miss Ferguson,” he started, obviously unsettled by her appearance out of nowhere. “What brings you to the stables so late?”
It would have been so much easier