Page 11 of Surrender to the Earl (Brides of Redemption #2)

A s the morning went on, Robert kept expecting the carriage ride to grow monotonous, but it never did.

He couldn’t stop watching Audrey’s face.

Molly would excitedly describe a thatched-roof cottage or a stone bridge, and it was as if he could see the wonder of the world reflected in Audrey’s expression.

Molly had obviously spent much of her life in this capacity, and she was good at spotting the tiniest details, from a spotted dog lying beside a child fishing on a riverbank, to the ruins of an old stone wall, “which was surely part of a castle,” Molly would insist. Audrey laughed as if this was a game they’d long played.

Audrey must have been nervous before the journey, and maybe that was why they’d quarreled, but once on their way she seemed only full of eagerness and excitement—and relief. When he’d mentioned they’d left her village behind, she’d sagged back against the bench and looked almost bewildered.

“He really let me go,” she’d murmured. “I had feared …”

But her words had trailed off, and he hadn’t pressed for more. He well knew what she feared: a scene, some reason to involve the law. But Robert and his earldom had won the day.

It was amazing to think that the daughter of a baron had never been beyond her own village, never been to London.

Part of him wanted to give her some of those experiences—and then he had to rein himself in.

He was escorting her to her new home, making sure she was settled, and then his debt to Blake would be repaid.

But would it? he wondered. Would these feelings of guilt finally give him some peace?

“You must think our excitement rather silly, Robert,” Audrey said, “especially when you’ve seen so much of the world.”

“And that’s why it’s refreshing.”

“Were you just as excited when you first left England?”

He hesitated. It had been nine years ago, and Stephen Kepple had just taken his own life.

Robert had been questioning everything about himself, his motives, his beliefs, his ability to be the earl.

But he wouldn’t tell her any of this. “I was excited to see lands that weren’t green and wet all the time.

Little did I know, but India has a monsoon season that makes England’s weather look tame in comparison.

And don’t forget about the six weeks at sea.

” He gave an exaggerated shudder, then realized she couldn’t see him, but he got a smile out of Molly.

The carriage was bouncing on the country roads, making it too difficult for Molly to read aloud for any length of time. So the two of them settled on going over the list of servants at the manor.

“I’ve been corresponding with the land agent hired by my late husband’s estate,” Audrey explained when he expressed curiosity.

“I’m told a family has been caring for the manor for the last few years.

The mother is the cook and housekeeper, the father takes care of the grounds, their son is the footman, and a daughter is the maid. ”

“Well, that makes it convenient,” Robert said. “With none of the Blake family there, it’s been like their own home.”

Audrey’s brow furrowed. “Very true. I imagine we’ll all get used to one another.”

She was already taking care of the people attached to her manor.

Robert didn’t even know most of the ones who served him.

At the London town house, the only familiar faces had been the butler and housekeeper.

He hadn’t even been to his country house yet.

He and Audrey were almost on the same journey.

While she’d be getting to know her new home, he’d be relearning the one he left behind a lifetime ago, one that ran without any effort by him at all.

He’d hired the right staff, he told himself.

That’s what he’d paid them to do. He found himself hesitant about getting too involved—his father had always had that trait.

In the military, one allowed the officers to command their regiments, one did not try to do every job. He’d learned his lesson.

“He’s fallen asleep,” Molly whispered sometime later, and the two women lapsed into a peaceful silence.

Audrey’s thoughts drifted, but she was too wound up to sleep.

She recalled her earlier conversation with Robert, when she’d asked if he’d been excited leaving England.

There had been something in his voice that seemed …

different. He’d answered lightly about the weather, as if that was all that mattered.

She hadn’t asked more questions, because there was no point in prying.

Yet he knew so much of her life; she couldn’t help being curious about his.

Audrey still felt dreamy with happiness and expectation. At last, she was free to chart her own course. She imagined the countryside streaming by her, all detailed so lovingly by Molly’s gift for words.

She felt the carriage slow and thought it must be noon. They’d stopped midmorn to water and feed the horses, and decided then to take a more extended break for luncheon.

“I must have closed my eyes,” Robert said.

She smiled. “So I heard. I hope you found some rest.”

“I did, thank you. We’ve arrived at an inn. Let me get down and I’ll assist you.”

She accepted his hand, and when she was on the ground, she trailed her fingers along the carriage until she reached the back. Her gelding, Erebus, came near and nuzzled her shoulder.

“You’ve been so good,” she murmured, petting his nose.

She heard their coachman call for grooms to care for the horses, and then Robert took her arm.

“Shall we share a meal?” he asked.

“I’m starving,” she agreed.

As they walked, she heard the ringing of a hostler’s bell at the gate, and the voices of servants in the stable yard off to the side. There were so many people, she realized.

“I’ll rent a private dining room,” Robert was saying. “We can relax there.”

“No, I’d like to eat in the public rooms with the other travelers. I can’t see, but I can hear, and it all sounds wonderful.”

He chuckled. “Very well. Take a step up here, and we’ll be in the front hall.”

“Ooh, Miss Audrey, there’s a row of basins and jugs,” Molly said. “Would you like to wash?”

“Yes, please!”

Molly chatted on about the cupboard displaying pies and cheeses, and how the next open room was crowded with tables and benches where people were eating.

“This way, ladies.”

“There must be a servants’ hall,” Molly protested.

“You’ll eat with us,” Audrey said. “We’re sharing this adventure together, remember?”

Molly giggled.

As Robert once again took Audrey’s arm and turned into the next room, the sounds were overwhelming, dozens of people talking at once. She was suddenly bumped from behind.

“Excuse me, miss!” someone called.

“The waiter,” Molly said quietly. “There are so many bustling about.”

“He should watch where he’s going,” Robert said coldly.

“He didn’t hurt me,” Audrey pointed out.

“Our table has benches, not chairs,” he said. “Will that do?”

“Of course.” She reached to feel the table, then let go of Robert to find the bench. She stepped sideways along it, making room for Molly at her side.

And that was when the hushed voices began, spreading out from around them. The travelers around them had realized she was blind.

“You can’t be the only blind woman they’ve ever seen,” Robert said crossly.

Audrey smiled. “I imagine most of those they’ve seen are beggars, and anyone highborn isn’t using a public coaching house. They’ll become used to me.”

The waiter raised his voice, the old trick, and Audrey could feel—and hear—Robert’s tension rise. He really was far too protective. This was nothing she had not experienced the time or two she’d been permitted into the village.

And then a baby wailed.

The sudden stab of grief took her by surprise, and she found herself holding still, listening.

After her baby had died, she’d spent months wallowing in her sorrow, wondering why God had punished her, when so much had already happened.

Gradually she’d come to terms with her loss, but she was never near babies.

“Audrey?” Robert asked.

Hearing the puzzlement in his voice, she put those feelings aside again. “Yes?”

“The expression on your face—” he began, then stopped. “It is none of my business.”

She didn’t have to answer, because a waiter chose that moment to inform them of the menu.

The meal, veal pies and cabbage, was plain but hardy, and afterward they strolled through the gardens, both vegetable and flower gardens, to stretch their legs and give the horses a chance to rest. But the carriage horses they changed, and soon they were on their way again.

The coachman had an inn in mind for the night until an axel broke, jolting the passengers.

Robert cursed their bad luck but was surprised how unaffected Audrey seemed.

She said she was happy for any new experience and listened contentedly as Molly described the coachman riding one of the carriage horses up the hill toward a manor in the distance.

Robert didn’t know if he should have gone himself to smooth the way, but wasn’t about to leave Audrey.

Soon enough, an older-model carriage came trundling down the drive.

As he assisted Audrey from their listing carriage, the coachman said, “Sir Miles Paley and his family live here. They’d be honored if ye’d spend the night while I see to the carriage repairs at the local blacksmith.”

When they finally stood in the little entrance hall of the manor, Lady Paley didn’t bother to hide her surprise as she studied Audrey. She was a petite woman, with delicate, childlike hands she absently rubbed together. “ You’re Audrey Collins?”

“Audrey Blake, ma’am,” she corrected. “My husband was killed when stationed with the army in India.”

Sir Miles, tall and slightly stooped, gave a guilty smile. “We all assumed you a reclusive invalid, Mrs. Blake.”

Audrey accepted their assumptions with ease, while Robert wanted to bash some heads together. Of course, this wasn’t their fault.