Maddie felt her mouth go dry. Oh, Lord. He would to tell everyone about what had happened this morning, would he? Because she had not been Lady Madeleine then—only, how did she explain that to all of them? How did she explain that to Mr. Dover? “Well, you see, sir, in the wee hours of the morning, I’m not Lady Madeleine. Well, I am Lady Madeleine, but . . . ”
It would never work.
Her gaze met Jack’s, and he raised an eyebrow at her. His expression dared her to try and play Miss High and Mighty now. She knew there was a reason she didn’t like midnight adventures. She got into far less trouble in the daylight.
“Fine!” she said, throwing her arms in the air. “Steal a carriage. I’ll even help.”
“Really?” Ashley said. “Perhaps we should be the ones to steal the carriage. Wouldn’t that be fun!”
“Actually,” Jack said, stepping forward. “That’s not a bad idea.”
Chapter Eleven
To no one’s surprise, in the end Maddie would not agree to steal a carriage. Jack wouldn’t have allowed it anyway, but he liked to see her squirm. Preferably underneath him, but if he couldn’t have that, then he would find some other way to affect her.
The village was large and bustling, and Nick had no problem stealing a carriage with four fresh horses. And so, an hour after their party had met behind the posting house, the five of them were once again on the road to Gretna Green.
Nick offered to drive first, and Jack let him, with the condition that he ride in the coach box as well. Nick might want to put as much distance between himself and Ashley Brittany as possible, but that didn’t mean that Jack would spend this whole trip locked in the carriage with two women and the whiny Mr. Dover.
And he wanted a chance to speak to Nick alone. He had planned to tell his brother what the Black Duke had said in the clearing. Nick needed to know that Bleven could have been involved in what happened in that alley all those years ago. But now that he had the opportunity, Jack found that he couldn’t speak. It had been his fault, not Nick’s. So this knowledge would be his burden as well.
He was quiet until they had covered enough distance without pursuit so as to feel relatively safe. Then he said, “According to our professor, the next town of interest is Biggleswade. Dover estimates that we’re approximately eight hours and fourteen minutes behind schedule reaching it.”
“Good God!” Nick said, shaking his head. “Say it ain’t true.”
Jack smiled. His brother could actually be tolerable at times. And sarcasm ran in the family.
“Oh, it’s true, all right, but I’m more worried about Lord Castleigh or Sir Gareth catching up to us than I am maintaining a schedule.”
“You’re not safe until you have a ring on Miss Brittany’s finger,” Nick said. “And good luck with that.”
Jack snorted. “She threatening not to marry me?”
“Oh no.” Nick gave him a sidelong look. “She’s threatening to marry you.”
Jack was quiet for a moment. No point trying to avoid fate. He had to marry her if he was ever to return to London and his life there. It was probably about time he married anyway. His father had passed away three years ago, and the family needed an heir. Ashley Brittany would make as good a wife as any. He knew her family, knew her brothers well, and though they were all mad as bulls with bees stinging their rumps, they were a good family. Good ancestry, good finances, good people.
Not the kind of people one wanted to anger. The men in the family could hold a grudge that outlasted world empires. And so he would marry Ashley, and everyone would have what they wanted.
Well, almost everyone.
No, Jack corrected. Everyone. He didn’t want Lady Madeleine. He’d been through all that last night. No matter what happened, he wouldn’t marry her. It would have been a disaster anyway. She’d drive him mad with all her Good Samaritan deeds, and he’d drive her mad . . . well, he could think of a number of ways to drive her mad.
Ashley Brittany was safe. She didn’t make his tailcoat feel too tight around his chest or make his blood pound in his head. Marry her, and he risked nothing. She was pretty, spoiled, and wouldn’t complicate his life with any unwanted emotions. Marrying her was simple.
Jack glanced at his brother again.
Or was it?
“What happened last night with you and Miss Brittany? You went after her, found her—still naked, I presume—and . . . ?”
“Dover discovered us, and we all got some rest.”
“And that’s it?”
Nick glanced at him. “She’s your fiancé, Jack. You think I don’t respect that?”
“You’re a pretty good thief.” Jack indicated the stolen carriage.
