Page 24

S EBASTIAN HAD RETURNED TOO LATE last night for Vivienne to speak with him about his chase to capture the dog.

She longed to know what had happened to the beast. But Sebastian hadn’t appeared for breakfast …

even though she had been sitting here in hopes of seeing him, sipping on tea that had long grown cold.

She even went so far as to take the morning’s ironed newssheets from his place, pleasantly surprised to find the first installment of her serialized story in the Bath Chronicle .

She could only pray the public looked favorably on the story, as the Chronicle had yet to print serialized stories before this one.

She returned the newssheets beside his place setting with a sigh.

Perhaps it was best to be away from Sebastian.

Her emotions grew cloudy when she was around him.

She had never felt such things, except with the highwayman.

He was a completely unavailable man, which was most likely why she felt drawn to him.

Was it ludicrous to consider the dangerous man safe and the knight dangerous when it came to her heart?

She shook the question from her head and surrendered the breakfast room to the maid, who was no doubt pacing outside the door, waiting for her to leave.

Vivienne trotted up the steps to Grandmother Larkby’s room.

She needed to find a way out of this mess she had created while keeping Grandmother Larkby’s heart intact.

She slipped into the room, smiling her greeting.

“I would love to see anything other than these walls.” Grandmother clasped the doctor’s hand. “Bartholomew, do say I can go out of doors?” She gestured to Vivienne. “I would love to show my new granddaughter the gardens.”

The doctor looked out the window, nodding. “I do not see why not. A day in the sun might help bring the bloom of youth back to your cheeks.”

“It will take a great deal more than a day in the sun to do all that.” Her eyes sparked. “How about Vivienne takes me on a jaunt in the pony cart?”

The doctor released a long-suffering sigh. “Fiona, that is quite a deal more than taking in fresh air in the gardens outside your window.”

She smiled up at him, batting her lashes. “Come, Bartholomew. I have been dreaming of all I could do once more if I had the chance.”

He looked to Vivienne over the rim of his wire-rimmed spectacles. “Are you able to drive?”

“A pony cart? Of course.” She hadn’t driven one since her childhood days, but Father had trusted her with an ancient pony.

Grandmother clapped her hands. “Tell the groom to prepare Fluffy,” she said to the nearest maid as a second moved to Grandmother’s closet, fetching clothing for the journey. “Vivienne, I shall meet you downstairs.”

Vivienne grabbed her mint pelisse, not worrying about dressing for the occasion, as they would only be about the estate.

She did not even bother to tie on her bonnet.

It was so much more refreshing to have the sun on her cheeks.

She stood just outside the front door and studied her temporary home.

It was far enough from Bath to feel as if she were in the country again, but it was nice to know that all the amenities she could ever wish for were a short drive, or invigorating stroll, away.

At last the footman carried out Grandmother Larkby, who was so wrapped up that only her face peeked out of her shawl. The groom led a gray-and-black Shetland pony pulling a black cart trimmed in gold, with burgundy seats. Fluffy was aptly named.

“May the Lord bless us and His face shine upon us!” Grandmother Larkby paraphrased the verse, lifting a smile upward with her eyes closed, basking in the rays. “I did not think I would have the chance to see the grounds once more, much less take a drive.”

The footman gently set her in the seat. He then turned to assist Vivienne into the cart, which could have easily fit four children. With Grandmother being so frail, they had room to spare even with her abundance of wraps and blankets.

Vivienne settled her skirts, and at Grandmother Larkby’s nod, Vivienne snapped the reins and Fluffy pranced forward.

Vivienne guided the horse down the tree-lined avenue that led to the river and the hillside of Lark Manor.

She slowed Fluffy as they crested the stone bridge, continuing the pace on the other side of the River Avon.

“Faster!” Grandmother laughed.

Vivienne snapped the ribbons, setting the pony’s clopping hooves to beating against the packed earth as the wind pulled Vivienne’s hair from its coiffure. Grandmother giggled, and Vivienne could not keep from joining in her infectious, unbridled glee.

Grandmother removed the shawl from her head and allowed the wind to flow over her hair as well.

She lifted her arms above her head, her aged hands reaching for the sky.

“This reminds me of my girlhood in Scotland. My da would let me ride my pony as much as I wished, and I did, until I met Darren Larkby one day on the highlands. He cut such a handsome figure atop his mount.”

Unable to keep herself from ferreting out every love story she encountered, Vivienne asked, “And it was love at first sight?”

“Not for me.” Grandmother Larkby grinned.

“He had to convince me of his love for nearly a year before I agreed to marry him and leave my life behind.” She swallowed.

“It was so hard to leave my family, even though I loved Darren. The hillside here reminds me of my old home, and it was because of these hills that Darren purchased this estate for me and planted the roses from my home in Scotland, as if I were the Queen of Babylon and he wished to create a wonder of the world to bring a smile to my face. We were quite happy raising our twin boys here. I did manage to return to Scotland every summer until Darren passed and I was no longer able to travel alone.”

“How long has he been gone?”

“Two decades. I had young Sebastian to look after by then, and his presence helped with my grief over the loss of my husband … and son.” She rested her gnarled hand on Vivienne’s arm.

“I cannot tell you the peace it gives me to know that Sebastian has found the love of his life at last—to know that the Larkby name might continue through him and not just his horrid cousin who is content to ruin the family name by his gambling and endless line of ladybirds.”

Even though Vivienne wished to know more about this cousin, she needed to avoid a conversation involving heirs, as babies would no doubt be next in the elderly woman’s thoughts.

Vivienne unnecessarily snapped the reins.

Fluffy took the encouragement to bolt, sending the pony cart bouncing wildly about and Grandmother squealing in delight.

Bash stretched his aching back and brushed the hay from his breeches.

He had fallen asleep beside the dog’s kennel, attempting to calm the animal.

He had wanted to get the dog to trust him by spending time with him, but the hound was positively feral.

It would take more than a night and morning spent outside the dog’s kennel for the beast to shed his wariness of humans.

Bash should have gone back to his feather bed, but Vivienne had been so devastated at the thought of the animal being destroyed, he’d felt compelled to personally see to the dog’s well-being.

He massaged the knot in his shoulder. He knew the real reason he’d stayed had little to do with a dog that would have bitten off his hand and more to do with the lady behind the request. He was in trouble—deep trouble.

He strode into the breakfast room, but the buffet had been cleared.

He swiveled to the grandfather clock on the wall.

He had slept far longer than he had anticipated.

He hurried up the stairs and changed into a fresh ensemble before peering into Grandmother’s room as he tied his cravat.

The bed was empty. His heart staggered for a moment, but a maid appeared from around the corner with a fresh pile of linens.

“Excuse me, Bridget? Have you seen Mrs. Larkby and Lady Larkby this morning?”

She bobbed in a shallow curtsy. “They went for a drive in the pony cart, Sir Sebastian.”

“They what?”

Charlotte popped her head out from Vivienne’s bedroom. “Sir Sebastian?” She hurried over. “I’m so glad I caught you. Lady Larkby wished for me to tell you that she is driving with your grandmother, as per the doctor’s permission.”

“Grandmother is so well then?” He nearly laughed in relief, but it was squelched by the idea of his ladies about the property without him for protection, given the news from Telford.

He trusted his neighbors, but Bath drew all sorts, including men traveling through who tended to cross Lark Manor’s estate to save time. “Do you know where they went?”

She shrugged. “They only said they would be about the estate.”

He sprinted down the stairs and almost went to Brigand’s stall, then sighed and claimed a far inferior horse, a dapple-gray mare. He did not wait for Noah to assist him and made quick work readying the horse before leaping into the saddle and riding for the back edge of the property.

They were not along the path by the river. Did they go beyond the tree line? He directed his horse over the bridge and galloped across the hills, when he heard a scream. His heart thudded in his chest, and he pressed his heels to his mount.

At the top of the hill, Bash spied the pony cart racing to a cluster of trees. If the horse did not stop, he did not wish to think what might happen to them. Why did Grandmother not take the reins? She had been a superior horsewoman in her day, but perhaps she was too weak to do so?

He bolted down to them, waving his arm and shouting. “Pull back! Pull back on the reins!”

Evie continued to struggle with the horse as Grandmother, at last, broke from her laughter and took the reins from Evie, clucking to the animal and halting him mere feet from the trees.

Bash closed the distance, stretching his limbs to gallop faster than he had in years, bringing the horse to a halt that had her rearing and tossing her head in protest. “What were you thinking, Vivienne? You might have been injured.”

She gaped at him, hurt flashing in her eyes. “Do you think I intended for the horse to run away with us?”

“That is neither here nor there.” Grandmother chided him, her cheeks a pretty pink. “We both know I could’ve stopped the horse at any time, but where is the fun in that?”

“Grandmother Larkby!” Evie gasped. “I thought I was about to kill us both!”

“But you didn’t, my dear.”

Grandmother held the reins in one hand, but he knew the action had strained her weakened limbs.

He remembered a day when she would race him across the hill country and win.

He scrubbed a hand around his neck. How could he fault her for behaving as he would in his twilight years?

“Allow me to hold Fluffy’s bridle and walk you back. ”

“Walk? It would take an hour to return at that pace.” Grandmother motioned him into the cart, her eyes sparking with mischief. “Join us.”

His brows lifted at the tiny cart. “There is precious little room.”

“Nonsense. Draw your bride onto your lap, and there shall be room aplenty. Fluffy is more than capable of carrying the three of us. He needs the exercise, apparently.”

“Grandmother … ,” he scolded, but she did have a point in how long it would take to return to the manor. He wished to have her indoors before too long.

She crossed her arms. “You two hardly act like a couple who were so in love that they eloped in secret. No kissing that I can see, or hand-holding, and now you are reluctant to hold her even if it means bringing me to the comfort of my own manor that much sooner. What is going on with you two? Did you quarrel? Because I can think of a few ways to settle the matter quickly, beginning with Vivienne sitting upon your lap.”

Bash met Evie’s gaze, silently asking her if this was too far to take their pretense of marriage.

To her credit, she did not blush this time. “Grandmother needs to be put to bed after such a fright.”

“I was not frightened.” Grandmother sighed. “But I must admit that I am weak with exhaustion.”

Evie’s eyes flashed with alarm, and she at once motioned Bash inside. “It will be faster. I shall not protest to you holding me on your lap if it means that she can be in her bed that much sooner.”

He dismounted, eyeing the cart again. He could have sworn Grandmother was laughing at how he slowly affixed the horse to the back of the cart, but she pressed a fist to her lips and coughed forcefully.

Evie stood and struggled to maintain her position, balancing with her arms out as he climbed into her vacated seat.

He grasped her elbow, and she reclined in his lap, keeping her eyes on Grandmother, who smirked in satisfaction.

He wrapped his arms around Evie to snap the reins, sending the pony into a trot.

Having her in his arms again felt right, and he was beginning to wonder how he might keep her there.

He’d already procured a license from the bishop in case of an emergency.

If only I could manage to convince her to stay.

The traitorous thought sent a stab of guilt through his back.

He had promised that he would not force her into a marriage—that she was right in trusting him.

As if feeling his gaze on her, she turned to him, their lips nearly brushing.

If he leaned forward, he might taste her sweet lips once more.

How simple it had been when he had been the highwayman.

But he was and always would be a knight.

He cleared his throat and snapped the reins as Grandmother cackled with laughter, having caught their almost kiss.

“I’ve never met two people so in love who were so opposed to kissing in front of an elderly relation. Would it help if I pretended to look the other way or snored a bit as I fell into a convenient sleep?”

Evie stiffened in his lap, but she winked at Grandmother. “To kiss a knight is not something I take lightly.”