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Authors: Elizabeth Elliott
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dreadful business is over.” He gave her a meaningful look and her nod said she understood the lie. “I will let you know the moment we apprehend the villain. Until then, I’ll feel better knowing you’re safe with Aunt Amelia. Now let’s get you to the carriage. I don’t want you to miss the coach for West Wycombe.”
When she stepped outside, Lily noticed that her trunk was already loaded onto the back of the duke’s carriage. Digsby hurried forward to hold open the carriage door.
“My lady.” He executed another of his proper bows as he held open the carriage door. Lily wondered if Remmington hadn’t taken lessons from the man. They both executed the move flawlessly.
The driver was at their side in an instant to take Gretchen’s satchel. He was one of the earring wearers with the colorful bandanna. Not the most likely-looking driver, but Digsby was hardly a likely-looking butler, with his scars and wildly untamable hair. His rust-colored curls danced about in the evening breeze with a life of their own. But he was propriety itself as he handed Lily up into the carriage. Gretchen followed, then the earl filled the carriage’s open doorway. Their good-byes were hasty. She knew her father wanted her away from the house while there was hope that her attacker would not observe her departure. Moments later the carriage pulled away. Crofford House and everything else Lily valued were left behind her.
Little more than four hours earlier she had struck down the man who had tried to kill her. He might be recovered from his injuries by now, ready to hunt her again. An uncontrollable shiver racked her body, and she lowered the black net veil to hide her fear from Gretchen.
The maid seemed excited over the prospect of this journey, and she had readily agreed to accompany her mistress to an unknown destination. Only a handful of the earl’s town servants accompanied the family to Crofford Hills when they retired to the country, and Gretchen was not among that number. Lily wondered if the girl had ever been beyond the boundaries of London. She was about to ask that question when the carriage rolled to a stop.
“We can’t possibly be at the Two Swans already.” Lily leaned forward just as Digsby appeared at the carriage door with an explanation.
“Pardon me, my lady.”
Lily anticipated the bow before it came. Lord, the king’s servants didn’t bow as much as this man did. “Yes, Digsby?”
“Jack reminded me that my missus will worry, as quickly as we left earlier this evening. As long as we had to pass by His Grace’s residence, I thought you might not mind if we stopped ever so quickly to put my wife’s worries to rest.”
“You’re married, Digsby?”
Well, that wasn’t very tactful, she decided, glad for the veil that hid her embarrassment over her rude question. No reason the man wouldn’t be married. After all, Vicar Robbins said there was someone for everybody. A wife for Digsby proved the point.
“My wife is employed as the cook, my lady.” Digsby kept his hands at his sides and stood at rigid attention. Lily finally realized he was waiting for her permission.
“You must certainly put her mind at ease,” she offered, with a wave toward the door. “Do hurry, Digsby. We haven’t much time.”
“My lady.” He dropped into the bow she was starting to find annoying.
Digsby walked up the steps and disappeared inside the house as Lily lowered the window curtain on the carriage door. Veiled or not, she was uneasy about the possibility of being seen in front of the duke’s residence.
Remmington was inside that house, just a few steps away. Why did the knowledge bring with it a small rush of excitement? Lily frowned and leaned away from the window. Their brief but eventful acquaintance was at an end.
At least she didn’t have to worry about seeing him again until she returned from Brighton. That might be weeks. Perhaps months. He would very likely be married in the meantime. She must use
When she stepped outside, Lily noticed that her trunk was already loaded onto the back of the duke’s carriage. Digsby hurried forward to hold open the carriage door.
“My lady.” He executed another of his proper bows as he held open the carriage door. Lily wondered if Remmington hadn’t taken lessons from the man. They both executed the move flawlessly.
The driver was at their side in an instant to take Gretchen’s satchel. He was one of the earring wearers with the colorful bandanna. Not the most likely-looking driver, but Digsby was hardly a likely-looking butler, with his scars and wildly untamable hair. His rust-colored curls danced about in the evening breeze with a life of their own. But he was propriety itself as he handed Lily up into the carriage. Gretchen followed, then the earl filled the carriage’s open doorway. Their good-byes were hasty. She knew her father wanted her away from the house while there was hope that her attacker would not observe her departure. Moments later the carriage pulled away. Crofford House and everything else Lily valued were left behind her.
Little more than four hours earlier she had struck down the man who had tried to kill her. He might be recovered from his injuries by now, ready to hunt her again. An uncontrollable shiver racked her body, and she lowered the black net veil to hide her fear from Gretchen.
The maid seemed excited over the prospect of this journey, and she had readily agreed to accompany her mistress to an unknown destination. Only a handful of the earl’s town servants accompanied the family to Crofford Hills when they retired to the country, and Gretchen was not among that number. Lily wondered if the girl had ever been beyond the boundaries of London. She was about to ask that question when the carriage rolled to a stop.
“We can’t possibly be at the Two Swans already.” Lily leaned forward just as Digsby appeared at the carriage door with an explanation.
“Pardon me, my lady.”
Lily anticipated the bow before it came. Lord, the king’s servants didn’t bow as much as this man did. “Yes, Digsby?”
“Jack reminded me that my missus will worry, as quickly as we left earlier this evening. As long as we had to pass by His Grace’s residence, I thought you might not mind if we stopped ever so quickly to put my wife’s worries to rest.”
“You’re married, Digsby?”
Well, that wasn’t very tactful, she decided, glad for the veil that hid her embarrassment over her rude question. No reason the man wouldn’t be married. After all, Vicar Robbins said there was someone for everybody. A wife for Digsby proved the point.
“My wife is employed as the cook, my lady.” Digsby kept his hands at his sides and stood at rigid attention. Lily finally realized he was waiting for her permission.
“You must certainly put her mind at ease,” she offered, with a wave toward the door. “Do hurry, Digsby. We haven’t much time.”
“My lady.” He dropped into the bow she was starting to find annoying.
Digsby walked up the steps and disappeared inside the house as Lily lowered the window curtain on the carriage door. Veiled or not, she was uneasy about the possibility of being seen in front of the duke’s residence.
Remmington was inside that house, just a few steps away. Why did the knowledge bring with it a small rush of excitement? Lily frowned and leaned away from the window. Their brief but eventful acquaintance was at an end.
At least she didn’t have to worry about seeing him again until she returned from Brighton. That might be weeks. Perhaps months. He would very likely be married in the meantime. She must use
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