“We need to keep watch through the night.” Nicholas looked around their group. With input from Phillip, Dickie, and the two grooms, he worked out a schedule of two-hourly watches to span the night. Phillip and Dickie were both night owls and were happy to take the midnight to two period. Jed and Mike were volunteered for the two to four o’clock slot, while Rory and Young Gillies, both accustomed to very early mornings, were happy to take the four to six o’clock spot.
After glancing at the clock on the parlor wall, Nicholas said, “So I’m on first watch.” He got to his feet. “I’ll amble down there now and send Harold and Oscar back.”
He left the others commenting on the lack of nighttime traffic on the road. Rory and Young Gillies followed him into the hall, then went in search of their supper.
Before the front door, Nicholas paused. It was summer, but they’d traveled a fair way north, and the night would likely be chilly. He detoured to his room for his greatcoat. After donning the caped coat, he descended the stairs, strode out of the inn’s front door, and made for the tavern at a pace that suggested he was a gentleman indulging in a postprandial stroll.
He located Harold and Oscar in the shaded doorway of a small warehouse opposite the tavern. The spot afforded an unobstructed view of the tavern’s front door, the yard, and the doors of the stable that stood to one side.
Nicholas explained the arrangements for the night’s watches and dispatched the stablemen to the coaching inn. Then he propped one shoulder against the warehouse’s door frame and, safely wreathed in shadow, settled to keep watch.
Twenty uneventful minutes later, he heard light footsteps approaching. The footsteps halted just before the recessed doorway, then Adriana peered around the edge and saw him. She smiled and, stepping past him, slipped into the shadows, turning to stand beside him and look out at the tavern.
After a moment, Nicholas inquired, “Bored?”
She chuckled. “Yes. Dickie went off—I suspect to find Rory and Young Gillies and inveigle them to play cards to keep him occupied. And while I’m very pleased that Phillip has had the good sense to find a lady like Viola, there are only so many meaningful looks and wordless exchanges that I can bear. At least in any one sitting.”
He laughed softly. Folding his arms across his chest, he thought, then admitted, “Given your and Dickie’s descriptions of Phillip, while initially I saw some hints of such a character, the longer he’s in Viola’s company, the less I see of that man.”
“Hmm.” After several moments, she confided, “I can see Papa in him now. I never could before.”
Nicholas waited, but she said no more.
After several minutes of silence, he ventured, “If you were bored at the inn, I greatly fear you’ll be even more bored here.” He shifted his gaze to her face, to what he could see of her profile as she stared across at the tavern. “But you would have known that would be the case, so why are you here?”
She tipped up her chin. “Because I wanted to talk to you in private, and this seemed the perfect opportunity.” She met his gaze. “Not least because it will put paid to my boredom, killing two birds with one stone.”
He refused to be diverted and arched his brows. “What did you want to speak with me about?” He told himself not to get his hopes up; for all he knew, she might want to talk about London.
She returned her gaze to the tavern and plainly took a moment to organize her thoughts. “I wanted to ask just how serious you were about us marrying.”
He blinked, but didn’t have to think. “Entirely serious.” He paused, then clarified, “Absolutely, definitely serious.” She briefly glanced his way and, jaw firming, he added, “I won’t change my mind.”
She looked back at the tavern and vaguely waved. “I had to ask. Just to be sure…”
That he wasn’t teasing?
It dawned on him that her years as Miss Flibbertigibbet might have left her vulnerable in ways he hadn’t foreseen. “I want to marry you.” The words came easily. “I’m perfectly, unswervingly clear about that.”
I’m waiting for you to realize you want to marry me.
She drew in a breath, then nodded and said, “In that case, I…wondered how you imagine a marriage between us would work. For instance, where would we live?”
“Newmarket.” That hadn’t required any thought, either. “The farmhouse there is essentially mine. It’s the family home and is close to the stable, which is where I spend and will continue to spend most of my days.”
“Your parents and siblings don’t live there?”
He shook his head. “These days, my parents live primarily in their London house, and my younger, unmarried sister lives with them. My brother, Toby, is occasionally at home, at the farmhouse, but he’s a gadabout and spends a lot of time away.” He had to be vague about Toby, given his time away was mostly on missions for Drake Varisey.
“How long does it take to travel from your house in Newmarket to Aisby Grange?”
“It’s roughly seventy miles, so a long day in a curricle.”
Her gaze on the tavern, Addie nodded. “And what do you imagine I would do as your wife?” She glanced at him and briefly met his eyes. “What would my role be?”
Her alter ego might be Miss Flibbertigibbet and her character invariably impulsive, but in this, she was determined to be sensible and look before she leapt.
“To manage our household—and, I suppose, manage me, at least socially.” He softly snorted. “I’m sure my mother, aunts, sisters, and female cousins will definitely expect you to do that.” He shifted, and she felt his gaze touch her face. “I would hope to have a family as well, and you and your contributions will be central in that.”
