Peter smiled wryly, glancing down at him. “You’re an observant man, Mr. Tunley.”
The man grinned. “I’m also one to know when I’ve stuck my nose where it doesn’t belong. Though, lamentably, it’s usually after I’ve done the sticking.” He chuckled before reaching into his waistcoat pocket and pulling out a dented but lovingly polished pocket watch, giving it a quick look.
“Wellthen. I’d best be off. My Mrs. Tunley will be waiting for me, and I’ve learned long ago not to keep a good woman waiting.” He chuckled again. “Do you wish me to show you the way back?”
“No need,” Peter said. “I’ve a mind to stay a bit longer. I thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Tunley. It was most appreciated.”
“It was my pleasure. I wish you happiness, Mr. Ashford.” Touching the brim of his hat, he was off, gathering his things and trudging back through the copse of trees, the cheerfulness of his whistle melting into the soft cries of seabirds. Leaving Peter with the same dilemma he’d had before the strange interlude. Though wasn’t it a bit clearer, the answer a bit more within reach?
Happiness. He mulled over the word, tried it on. It felt strange to him, like a pair of new shoes not yet broken in. Happiness had never been a consideration to him when planning his future. His focus had been on surviving. Happiness had been a myth, something only a select few could hope to attain.
Now, however, wasn’t it within reach? Lenora could give him that. She could chase away the demons, bring a peace and contentment into his life he would have never dreamed possible just a week ago.
A strange sensation stirred inside him, and it took him some moments to realize it was hope. But still there was that deep shudder of rebellion tarnishing it. What of Dane? How could he let his empire stand? He brutally pushed the thought aside. He would deal with that when the time came. For now, wasn’t it worth seeing what he could have with Lenora?
Anxious now to return to Seacliff, he strode to his horse, quickly untying it and mounting up. It seemed to sense his mood, for it was off like a shot at his slightest touch, racing away from the beach, over the hills, unerringly making its way home.
Finally the house rose into view. The sun bathed the façade in golden light, glinted off the mullioned windows. As if calling to him.
He reined in his horse, wishing his thoughts were as easily controlled, and purposely turned toward the stables. As anxious as he was to get to Lenora and see what kind of future they might have together, he had never run blindly into any decision and he would not start now. No matter what happiness might hang in the balance.
He took his time at the stables, seeing to his horse’s care, though there were grooms aplenty, making sure it was rubbed down and fed and watered before, unable to delay it any longer, he headed to the house. Yet despite his attempts to maintain some semblance of control over himself, his heart had other ideas. It pounded out a fierce beat the closer he got to Lenora, just the idea of that bright future with her enough to make joy surge in his chest. When he made the front drive, it took every ounce of self-control to keep from breaking into a run. Just a few more steps. A grin started up, quite of its own accord.
Just then a horse and rider pounded up the drive. Peter faltered, then stopped altogether at the sight of the beast. It was magnificent, even to his untrained eye. An inky coat that had been brushed to a sheen, muscles quivering and bunching under sleek horseflesh. Its rider pulled it to a practiced stop and it responded beautifully, slowing to a graceful canter before coming to a halt, tossing its head, tail swishing.
The rider dismounted in a fluid motion, then turned. Peter expected a nod of the head, a greeting. What he did not expect, however, was what came next.
“Ho, man. Come and get this horse, will you?”
Peter stiffened. “I’m sorry?”
The man grinned, patted the horse’s neck. “Don’t be nervous about taking Hades’s reins. He may be named after the lord of the underworld, but he’s as docile as they come.”
As if to give lie to his owner’s words, the creature tossed its head and pranced sideways before the man brought it under control.
“Come along then,” he continued. “I’ve come all the way from London and am eager to complete my journey.”
Peter’s face heated. It had been years since anyone had made him feel the lowliness of his origins. But in that moment, he felt every smear of dirt that had ever soiled him. The man standing before him was everything he never had been and never would be. Slim and elegant, with features that would put the finest Renaissance painting to shame, he wore his confidence as well as he wore the finely tailored clothes that graced him.
Fury boiled up, that this man should reduce him to the uncertain boy he had been. “You mistake me,” he growled, bringing himself to his full height. “I am Lady Tesh’s great-nephew, Mr. Peter Ashford. What I would like to know is your identity, sir, and your business here.”
Instead of turning haughty, as so many men of station did when brought to task, the man looked utterly abashed. “Goodness, now don’t I feel an utter arse. My apologies. I certainly never meant any offense. I would blame the long trip from London and my own exhaustion, but those would be poor excuses. Please permit me to start again. I am Lawrence Watford, Lord Redburn.” He held out a hand.
Peter took the proffered hand only with great reluctance. He had hoped to find the man’s grip weak. But to his frustration, it was firm and hearty. “And what is your business with Lady Tesh?”
“Lady Tesh?” Lord Redburn laughed. “Never met the woman in my life, though I’m eager to do so.”
A groom ran up then, interrupting further conversation. Frowning, Peter waited with barely concealed impatience as Lord Redburn greeted the groom, giving him instructions for the horse’s care. Finally the beast was led away. As he and Lord Redburn walked up the front steps, Peter was quick to pick up where they’d left off. An uncomfortable premonition had settled under his skin that he could not shake.
“If you’re not here to see Lady Tesh, who is it you wish to see? Mrs. Kitteridge?”
He knew he was grasping at straws. In the next moment, those final straws were dashed to the ground.
“No, I’m here to see Miss Lenora Hartley.”
“And what do you want with the young lady?”
Lord Redburn stopped before the great front doors of the mansion and turned to Peter. “Why, to see my fiancée.” He grinned. “Miss Hartley and I are to be married.”
