At the last change of horses, Walton, the coachman, had lit the carriage lamps. Not many people traveled at night; it was too dangerous. But Edward was determined to get Lily home as soon as possible, and she could only be grateful.
She was desperate to see her family.
Walton had also sent young Jimmy down—much againstthe boy’s will—to travel the last few hours inside the coach. How could Walton stand it? Lily wondered. Sixteen hours driving a coach—she was exhausted just from traveling, and she’d taken a nap or two along the way. But when she raised it with Edward, he’d shrugged and said he’d offered to hire Walton an assistant driver and he’d refused.
After Jimmy joined them, they played guessing games and memory games, and told a few stories, but everyone was tired, and soon Betty and her brother curled up in a corner of the coach and slept.
Lily wished she could sleep too. Edward had said he hoped they’d get to Mayfair before midnight. She was exhausted, but nervous energy kept her awake.
• • •
The coach pulled up outside Ashendon House just before midnight. In the faint light of the gas lamps in the street outside, the occupants of the coach stretched, and straightened themselves. Ned was a little surprised. He’d expected Lily to be out of the coach in a flash, up the stairs and into the arms of her family. Instead she was tidying her hair and tugging her borrowed dress into place, as if she were nervous or something.
Walton let down the steps and opened the carriage door. Lily took a deep breath. “I don’t know how to thank you for everything you’ve done.”
“Then don’t. It was my pleasure.” Ned didn’t want her gratitude. He climbed out to hand her down, and at the same moment the front door of Ashendon House opened and Cal and his wife came rushing out. Lily practically fell out of the carriage into their arms.
Hugging, kissing, laughing, weeping, they walked slowly back into the house. Ned gave Walton an enormous tip, gave him the next two days free and sent him off with the horses and carriage for a well-earned rest.
“Coming in?” Cal stood at the front door, waiting. It was less an invitation than an order.
Inside the house pandemonium reigned. As Ned entered, two young women dressed in bedgowns and looselyfastened dressing gowns came flying down the stairs in bare feet, shrieking. They embraced Lily repeatedly, hurling questions at her so fast they would have been impossible to answer, even if they hadn’t all been laughing and weeping and hugging and exclaiming in dismay over Lily’s bruised face.
A little overwhelmed by the outburst of female emotions, Ned was relieved when Lady Ashendon finally said, “Come along up to bed, girls. It’s late, we’re all tired and poor Lily looks completely worn out. Your questions will keep. Plenty of time in the morning to hear what happened.” She made arrangements for one of the maids to provide beds for Betty and Jimmy and whatever else they needed, and ushered the three girls upstairs.
The girls hurried ahead in a tight clump, still talking. Just before Lady Ashendon reached the first landing, she glanced back at Ned and said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Galbraith, you must think us complete savages—we are all at sixes and sevens in the joy of Lily’s homecoming—but let me say how truly grateful we are to you for returning our darling Lily to us.”
Ned bowed. He hated being thanked.
Lady Ashendon added, “You will call tomorrow, I hope?” Again it wasn’t quite an invitation.
He glanced up, saw Lily looking down at him and heard himself say, “Of course, Lady Ashendon.”
The ladies disappeared, their voices died away and silence fell. Ned turned to take his leave. “I’ll be off then, Cal. I’m—”
“Step into the sitting room a moment, Galbraith, if you please.” Cal seemed a bit stiff. Ned wanted to find his own bed, but assuming Cal had questions he wanted to ask without the ladies present, he entered the sitting room. A cozy fire was burning and he crossed the room to warm himself in front of it. “So, Cal, you have questions for me, I presume?”
“The messenger who brought your note—”
“Oh, you got it. Good. No problem about paying him the extra, I hope. He must have ridden through the night.” Fora man whose sister had just been returned safe and sound, Cal seemed very tense.
Cal dismissed the matter of the money with a curt gesture. He didn’t offer Ned a seat; he just stood with his legs braced apart, eyeing him with a grim expression.
“The messenger told me when you carried my sister into that godforsaken village inn, she was naked but for a fur rug.”
“Not naked—under the rug, she was wearing one of my shirts.”
Cal’s fists clenched. “Why was she virtually naked? Did that bastard—?”
“No, that was my doing. I made her strip—”
“Yourdoing?” Cal took two steps and grabbed Ned by the throat. “You stripped my baby sister naked, and—”
Ned broke his hold and pushed him away. “Calm down, you fool, it’s not what you think. She stripped herself.” Some demon of provocation made him add, “And if you haven’t noticed, she’s no longer a baby.”
“You bastard.” Cal threw a punch.
Ned blocked it and shoved Cal backward. “Oh, don’t be such a fool! She was soaked to the skin and half frozen, so what would you have me do? Let her catch her death of pneumonia? Besides, she stank to high heaven.”
