“But why would Lord Nicholas do that?” She was watching him struggle to pull off his second boot.
“He was protecting a woman’s honor.”
“I suppose it’s justified, then.”
“Nick insulted Bleven on my behalf as well. Called the duke a filthy whoreson scoundrel.”
“Oh, Lord.”
“It’s a bit late to start praying.”
She looked about, spotted the horses he’d tethered the night before and marched toward hers. “We should go. Now. We must find Ashley and Mr. Dover. I want no part of this feud with Bleven.”
Jack shook his boot out and dropped it on the ground. “You should have thought of that last night. After that stunt you pulled, you’re involved whether you want to be or not. Might I suggest, you and Dover retire to the Scottish countryside. Permanently.”
“Don’t be rid—” But she looked at his face and swallowed.
“I’ve heard the Americas are lovely this time of year.”
She blew out a breath and closed her eyes. He heard her whispering something. It sounded like, “Everything will work out. Everything will work out.”
Jack shook his head. Everything work out? That would be a first.
MADDIE KNELT BESIDE Jack and tried to hold her breath. Jack’s horse stank. She didn’t know what the animal had gotten into the night before, but whatever the beast had eaten wreaked havoc with its digestion.
The two of them had made it to the nearby village, which happened to be Stevenage, and Jack and Maddie crouched behind the local pub and posting house. It was still early, and many of the villagers were not yet about, but the smells of baked bread and frying ham and sausage made her stomach rumble—despite the unappetizing aromas coming from the horse.
“Are you certain he knows to meet us here?” Maddie asked for what might have been the fifth time that morning.
“He knows,” Jack growled. He didn’t look at her.
Maddie didn’t blame him for being mad. He must think her daft after what she’d done to him this morning. But, jiminy, she’d told the man to hurry. Besides, why should she feel sorry for him? She was the one who’d had to exert all the self-control and end their tryst. The sun had come up. She’d turned back into Lady Madeleine. Lady Madeleine did not allow men to reach up her skirts—no matter how enjoyable it might be.
And it was enjoyable. Oh, Lord, it was enjoyable. First Jack had shown her that kissing didn’t have to be boring or sloppy, and then . . .
Well, the man was obviously blessed with many talents.
But now she had to think of poor Mr. Dover and Gretna Green, and escaping her father and Lord Bleven. Jack swore up and down that he and his brother had arranged to meet here, but so far she saw no sign of Lord Nicholas.
She hoped he hadn’t wandered by any of the shops and been accosted by a merchant’s daughter. The man seemed to invite trouble.
Behind her, one of the horses nickered and stomped its foot, and Maddie turned just in time to see Ashley and Lord Nicholas leading their horses into the small courtyard behind the posting house.
Thank goodness, Ashley was fully clothed again, and Maddie jumped up, ran to her, and hugged her. “I was so worried about you!”
“At least someone was,” Ashley said, with a glare at Lord Nicholas.
“Don’t start,” he retorted, moving forward to shake his brother’s hand. “Little harpy. Next time she exposes herself to half a dozen drooling men, I’ll let them have her.”
Blackthorne pulled his brother aside and the two began to speak quietly. But before Maddie could ask Ashley what had happened to her the night before, she spotted Mr. Dover. He trudged behind Ashley and Lord Nicholas, horseless and bedraggled, but alive.
Maddie released Ashley. “Mr. Dover, you made it.” She had intended to embrace him as warmly as she had her friend, but when she approached him, she couldn’t seem to make herself do it. Instead, she held out her hand and allowed him to kiss her fingers.
The formality between them reminded her that her dress was wrinkled and dirty, that she wore no gloves, and that she hadn’t bathed. Poor Mr. Dover. He must rue the day he ever agreed to run off with her. Not only was their elopement a fiasco, she looked like a street urchin.
And, while he had undoubtedly spent the night shivering cold and alone, she had slept in another man’s warm arms. And this morning . . .
Maddie bit her lip. Best not to think of that.
