Maddie heaved a sigh. “Before you and Miss Brittany . . . before you are man and wife.” She stammered the last and felt her cheeks redden. Lord, she hated him sometimes. Most times.
“Before we share the marriage bed,” Ashley broke in unabashedly. “Maddie thought you might like me to wash off some of this reek before you bed me. It might be more pleasant for you to—”
“Ashley, we understand!” Maddie said loudly before her friend could go on. She looked at Lord Blackthorne, and he looked back steadily.
“Oh, let ’em clean up, Jack,” she heard Lord Nicholas say. “We can afford to give them a quarter of an hour.”
“A half an hour,” Ashley demanded, “and something more substantial to eat than bread and cheese.”
“Demanding little chit,” Lord Nicholas mumbled. At least that’s what Maddie thought he said. The hatch closed again, and she and Ashley exchanged a disgruntled look.
But three-quarters of an hour later, the coach slowed and stopped at an inn in Carlisle. The door was thrown open, and Maddie stepped out on wobbly legs. She blinked in the sunlight and inhaled deeply of the fresh air. A few curious passersby glanced at her, but otherwise she was just one more traveler passing through.
Lord Blackthorne stood beside the door, still scowling at her. “Nick’s gone to get you two a room,” he said, then turned away from her to speak with the grooms changing the horses.
Mr. Dover stepped out of the coach, followed by Ashley, and Maddie gave her a tired smile. Ashley looked like she’d have enjoyed a long, luxurious bath as much as Maddie. As it was, they’d probably have to make do with a quick wash using a basin and ewer. Maddie didn’t care. Anything to rid herself of the grime from the past few days.
“I hope he orders us warm water,” Ashley said. “And a big tub.”
Maddie shook her head. “Unlikely, and you know it.”
“I can dream, can’t I?”
“Dream away.” Maddie leaned back against the coach and rolled her shoulders. Her back creaked as she worked out some of the tension, and she opened her mouth to yawn in a decidedly unladylike manner.
“Stop right there!” a voice boomed, and Maddie froze. Her eyes popped open and she scanned the street. It was crowded with carriages and people. No one stood out or appeared to be interested in them.
But she knew that voice. Knew it well.
“Oh, good God!” Ashley was saying. “Now what has that imbecile gone and done?”
Maddie opened her mouth to answer, but she was unable to speak. She looked frantically about, searching for the source of the voice.
And then she saw him. Lord Castleigh, dressed impeccably in a morning coat and breeches, stepped out of the building across from the carriage.
To Maddie’s shock, her kind, even-tempered father was pointing his hunting rifle at Mr. Dover.
“Daddy!” She grabbed Ashley’s arm for support.
“Thought you could run off with my daughter,” her father shouted as he moved forward. As one, the people on the street seemed to notice the man with the rifle. A woman uttered a long scream, and then everyone was running, scattering for cover.
“Daddy!” Maddie cried, pushing Ashley behind her. “Put that rifle down.”
“Stay out of this, Madeleine Richael Fullbright.”
Oh, dear. He’d used her full name, which meant he was very angry. She had to calm him down.
Beside her, Mr. Dover threw up his arms and began to tremble. “Don’t shoot!” His voice was high-pitched in the sudden silence. The busy street of a moment before was now deserted. Maddie looked about wildly for Jack and Lord Nicholas and prayed for them to stay wherever they were.
Keeping her father in sight, she inched closer to Dover. “Get behind me, Mr. Dover,” she said quietly. “Move toward the carriage.”
But then, just when she got Mr. Dover’s attention, Ashley put herself at risk. She moved out from behind Maddie and called out, “Uncle William, you’re scaring everyone.” Ashley put her hands on her hips in a foolhardy gesture.
Not like Lord Nicholas indeed, Maddie thought. The two were both incredibly stupid.
“Put that rifle down right now, Uncle William.”
“You hush, now, Ashley Gweneira Brittany,” Maddie’s father said, waving the rifle like an accusatory finger. “Your father will deal with you when he arrives.”
