Page 21 of Jillian’s Wild Heart (Ladies of Munro #4)
L ewis had just settled himself in the carriage when a squawk of alarm sounded outside. The footman lurched from the rearward-facing seat and ran in an odd, clenched sort of way toward the privy near the kitchen garden.
Poor fellow , thought Lewis. It was just as well the man tended to such unfortunate business before they left on their lengthy journey to Ermenbrough.
If they ever left.
The morning had suffered one delay after the other.
If Lewis didn’t know better, he would have wondered if his parents had taken steps to undermine his plans.
First, Lewis’s valet had discovered that his master’s trunk had been tampered with and found one of Miss Bradford’s dresses tucked inside it.
No one could explain how it had ended up there and an hour had been lost interrogating the maidservants.
Then the footman who’d been assigned to the carriage had had his luggage vanish completely.
It had only been a valise and probably contained little more than the young lad’s change of uniform and toiletries, but without it, he would not be able to join the traveling party.
The bag had reappeared just as mysteriously more than an hour later.
Packing had resumed, and Miss Bradford had given the rattled footman a stiff drink to aid his relief.
By now, the entire household was distressed and Lady Bradford started making comments about the wedding upsetting their family even before it had begun.
Lewis had decided to wait in the safety of the carriage so that he did not have to witness another outburst. Instead, he saw the footman seeking the urgent relief of the privy and knew that another delay was inevitable.
Sure enough, a kitchen maid soon emerged from that general direction and announced that the footman needed his valise for a change of trousers. The driver handed the bag down to her. Lewis closed his eyes and tried to shrink the distance between himself and Jillian with his mind. Time ticked by.
At last, Lewis felt the dip of the carriage suspension as the footman climbed back up to his seat, followed by a light thump as the man deposited his valise on the roof.
The coachman clicked his tongue, and the horses tugged at the weighty resistance of the vehicle.
The wheels turned slowly at first, then gathered momentum until the horses were trotting and the carriage sailed along easily.
Lewis sat alone with his thoughts. He had specifically rejected the notion of taking his valet with him.
Taking the footman was more than enough.
In Ermenbrough, he wanted to draw as little attention as possible to the difference in status between his family and the Kinseys.
He would take a room at the posting inn, eat simple meals, walk wherever he could.
He wanted no focus drawn to his wealth and rank.
He was there as Jillian’s betrothed, not her superior.
He had given his man two weeks’ leave, starting the moment the carriage left the drive. A long-overdue trip to the country to visit his family was well-deserved. It made Lewis happy to think that his joy at marrying Jillian could be extended to such a fine fellow.
Besides, he would far rather his bride undress him on their honeymoon…
His mouth twitched as he remembered the sweet taste of Jillian’s skin.
Thus far, he had savored her lips, her eyelids, her neck, the tender skin inside her forearm.
But there was much of her he had not yet sampled.
He would have his fill. Time together in the carriage would simply fly by, the bumpy road barely noticed as they were lost in each other’s arms.
For now, though, time could not pass fast enough.
It felt an eternity rather than the two hours before they eventually reached the halfway point and changed horses.
The footman seemed to have recovered sufficiently from his previous ailment, for he jumped briskly from his seat to open the door and lower the steps.
He bowed rather deeper than usual and did not straighten until Lewis had passed, at which point Lewis could have sworn the fellow had shrunk several inches.
He wrote his odd observations off to fatigue, shrugged them off mentally, and set off on a quick leg-stretch around the premises.
Within twenty minutes, they were ready to depart once more.
Lewis was now so excited to be on the last leg of the journey that he could not care less if the footman danced a jig.
He did, for a moment, take pity on the fellow, for he remembered his own distaste for the barrister’s wig and did not envy the footman for having to wear a similar wig all day.
The things itched something awful and needed constant care.
Perhaps replacing his time at court with a position in the House of Commons would not be so bad if the wig could be got rid of.
Lewis had to admit: being an heir to the aristocracy had its benefits.
Despite his enthusiasm at seeing Jilly and knowing less than a day stood between them and their nuptials, Lewis dozed off.
The carriage swayed and the suspension dulled much of the road’s assault upon the carriage wheels.
Lewis slept deep and long, waking quite suddenly as the sounds of busy village life broached his ears.
The next onslaught upon his senses was the smell of pigs.
He opened his eyes and drew his kerchief to his nose in haste.
Mercifully, the carriage proceeded onward and away from the porcine odor, though the vehicle’s course had slowed, its path being shared by folk going about their business and mothers chasing children who were not looking where they were going.
Lewis tugged the curtain string, and the dropped weight of the heavy velvet drapery shut both the view and the light out with immediate effect. The pungency of Ermenbrough also lessened, allowing Lewis to draw a deeper breath and gather himself.
So, this was the place his darling Jillian called home.
Though their family cottage was on the grounds of Trenton Grange, this was the heartbeat of the community.
These were her people. This was where she felt most comfortable.
Lewis cautiously lifted the curtain again.
He needed to learn. He needed to know what it was that made her happy.
A clod of mud splattered against the side of the coach. Lewis withdrew his head like a tortoise into the safety of the coach cubicle.
“Charlie Smith!” screeched a woman’s voice, or at least what Lewis assumed was a woman.
It was hard to tell, for the sound was rough and the person coughed spasmodically between phrases of chastisement.
“If I’ve told you once…” cough, cough … “I’ve told you a thousand times…
” cough, a-sound-Lewis-thought-likely-to-be-a-projectile-of-spit, cough …
And then he heard nothing more as the coach drew him farther up the main street.
Now the road widened as they approached the upper end of town.
More glass made up the shopfronts and the signs were not hanging off their hinges.
Lewis breathed out his relief. This was the part of Ermenbrough that Jilly would have spent time in.
Here people walked more sedately, their attire more well-kept, their faces clean.
Children held their mother’s hands or, if they were older, carried her basket for her while she haggled with a merchant.
Although there were no gentlemen with top hats and coattails, there were good, honest working men in wool jackets and caps, and young ladies whose happy faces suggested they had no idea their fashions were outdated or their dresses very plain.
They looked like the sort of couples where the fellow might grab his partner by the waist and twirl with her because their hearts were fit to bursting with love for one another.
There were women who patted their swollen bellies with shy pride.
Children played with sticks or marbles instead of sitting on a pony while a footman might lead them up and down a lawn behind the stables. Lewis liked what he saw very much.
The carriage pulled to a halt outside the inn, a wholesome building of stone probably as old as the Oakwoods manor but without any of the same pomp. It stood with homely dignity, welcoming the traveler to a simple roof, a hot meal, and a comfortable bed of straw for his horse.
The footman was about to open the door when Lewis slid the windowpane down to give the lad instructions for their stay. The startled lad locked eyes with him before dipping his head away. But it was too late. Lewis knew what he had seen.
“Penelope?”
“The ‘footman’ looked up guiltily. With her identity discovered, the disguise appeared to poor effect.
Lewis could not understand how he had not noticed before.
She stood wrong for a footman. She was too short.
Her uniform was too tight across the chest. And once you saw her dark-blue eyes, there was no mistaking the fierce stubbornness that was iconically Bradford.
“Get in here immediately!” he hissed.
“Are you inviting a footman into your carriage?” His sister sucked in her lips to hide her smile. “Whatever will the people say?”
“What are you doing here?” demanded Lewis. “And if you say, ‘Opening your carriage door,’ I shall pull your hair as the imp you are deserves.”
She shrugged. “Isn’t it obvious? I wanted to come to the wedding.”
Lewis gaped at her. “I’m already at loggerheads with our parents because of my choices. Now you would add kidnapping to my charges.”