Page 57

When a twig snapped under her foot, Roland surreptitiously swiped an arm beneath his nose and sniffed before he faced her.

“I think Thumper’s scared. But I keep telling him that there’s nothing to be afeared of.”

“You are a good friend to him,” she said, kneeling down beside Roly to comb her fingers through his tangled curls. “Sometimes

all we need is a bit of reassurance.”

“That’s what I’m doing then, giving him lots of”—he hesitated, uncertain—“’surance.”

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling at his sage nod, his face adorably smeared with all manner of mud and

filth. Withdrawing a handkerchief from her sleeve, she licked one corner and began to set him back to rights. But her hand

stilled when Garmr lifted his head and howled again, the sound so low and mournful that she felt the sting of incipient tears.

“Oh, Miss Hartley.” Roly threw his scrawny arms around her neck and choked back a sob as he climbed onto her lap. “Thumper

wanted us to be a family. Wanted it more than anything. That’s why he’s so sad. He’s afeared that St. James won’t come back

to us.”

Her arms snaked around him and she held tight, swaying back and forth. Though she wasn’t entirely sure if it was to soothe him or to keep herself from falling apart. Because when she closed her eyes, she could still picture that cottage where they were all supposed to live...

No , she told herself firmly. She wouldn’t allow herself to break. Not this time. She’d done that once for a man who didn’t love

her and she refused to be that stupid again.

“Fear not, my brave boy. I sent Captain Summerhayes to look after St. James and—” She stopped short as the thunder of horse

hooves sounded on the hard-packed lane. A sigh that she refused to call relief slipped out of her lungs. “See? I bet that’s

the gentlemen returning now.”

And she was about to give St. James a piece of her mind. He had some nerve, saying those awful things and then leaving. If

anyone was going to walk away, it was going to be her with her head held high.

The wolf stood at attention, ears perked and nose twitching as he scented the air. Then he whined deep in his throat and sank

back on his haunches in disappointment.

An instant later, she heard the jangle of rigging and realized that the new arrival couldn’t have been St. James or Summerhayes

since neither of them had left in a carriage.

She stood in time to see the black-lacquered coach and Lady Broadbent’s troubled face peering through the window.

“You’d best hold on to Thumper for now,” she said, pressing a kiss to the top of Roland’s puppy-scented head, then stroking

a hand over Garmr’s. “I’m not certain how her ladyship will react to our large companion.”

Though she needn’t have worried that the wolf would have frightened anyone. At the moment, he just let out a weary sigh as

he slumped to the ground, resting his head on his forepaws as if waiting for St. James had become too much to bear.

Holding a tight fist around her heart, Thea turned away and dashed over to the carriage. As Lady Broadbent found her feet, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “When I sent word, I didn’t expect you to come. But would it be terrible if I say that I’m glad you did?”

“I would have come regardless,” the countess said, patting her hand with affection. Then she inhaled deeply and exhaled heavily,

the sound far too ominous. “I have news, my dear. Which will wait until I am seated and, preferably, by a fire.”

“The kitchen is rather cozy. However, there is a sitting room upstairs—”

“I’ve always liked the atmosphere of a kitchen,” Lady Broadbent interjected. Though, considering how she leaned upon her cane

and on Thea’s arm, her preference likely had more to do with stairs than atmosphere.

After a careful trek across the uneven ground, they stepped through the kitchen door, welcomed by the sweet, yeasty aroma

of freshly baking bread.

Nan’s eyes went wide at the sight of the regal countess in her lavender velvet traveling costume and she nervously wiped her

hands on her apron, bobbing a curtsy as Thea made the introductions. “Lady Broadbent. It is a great honor, but I humbly beg

your pardon for the dreadful state of my kitchen just now, with all this flour and bits of whatnot for lamb pie on my worktable.”

“A woman should never apologize for her labors, my dear Mrs. Barrett. Men often make the worst messes of everything and hardly

bother with a by-your-leave. Therefore, I see no reason why we should,” Lady Broadbent said easily.

Nan smiled, her shoulders relaxing. “Shall I put the kettle on, my lady?”

“That would be lovely. Thank you.” Then the countess sighed with relief as she sank down onto the wooden chair by the fire.

“Ah. Much better. One learns to appreciate a moment of stillness the more one travels.”

Anticipation spread like a cold inside Thea. She just wished she could sneeze it out and be done with it. And as Lady Broadbent rested her bones and her eyes, she tried not to press her for the conversation she’d begun outside, but she failed. “You said you have news?”

“I do, indeed. However, I am summoning my courage to tell the last of it,” her chaperone said, stopping Thea’s heart. “Therefore,

I shall convey the first and tell you that I’ve sent a messenger to your parents, my dear. Tally and Beth are packing our

trunks and will be on their way to Addlewick shortly.”

“We’re going home? But why?”

When Lady Broadbent opened her eyes, it suddenly became clear that her exhaustion wasn’t entirely from the short carriage

ride here, but from something far worse. “Viscount St. James has been arrested.”

Nan’s rolling pin clattered to the floor.

Thea gripped the fabric of her bodice in her fist as if trying to hold her heart together. “For murder?”

It seemed to take a lifetime before the answer came. Her entire life... and his...

“No,” the countess said. “There were guards waiting at Redcliffe’s estate. Apparently, the earl knew that St. James would

come. Lord Abernathy was there, too. He identified St. James as the highwayman.”