Chapter Twenty-Two
The sun was up, but it was still freezing cold when Julian, James, and Francis assembled out the front of the castle. Grooms brought over three strong horses from the stables.
To Julian’s surprise, Caroline was good to her word and was dressed to bid them a fond farewell on their journey.
“Hello, and good morning,” she said, as Midas bounded up to greet her.
“He seems to have taken a particular fancy to you,” replied Julian.
Caroline bent and gave Midas a friendly rub behind the ears. Midas wagged his tail, and Julian sensed the strong connection that had formed between them. He felt an odd pang in his heart as she spoke softly to the dog.
“Are you going to wait out here with me, boy? I expect you are glad to be blessed with a nice, thick, fur coat on a morning like this,” she said.
Julian took the reins from the stable groom without paying attention to him. His gaze was fixed firmly on Caroline. It was only when she stood and James spoke to her that the spell, she held over him broke. He blinked in the bright early morning sun and tried to regain his focus. As Midas began to nuzzle against Caroline’s leg, Julian felt a second pang in his chest.
I cannot be jealous of my dog. If I was, that would mean . . .
The notion of him forming any sort of attachment to Caroline was ridiculous. They were former enemies, temporary friends, stuck together due to circumstance. When they returned to London, he expected they would go back to being nothing more than cool acquaintances.
“How long do you think you will be gone?” she asked.
“Well, we shall head toward Midway first; that is only a short distance from here. If we do not encounter anyone on the road, then we may ride on toward Ashby de la Zouch,” replied Julian.
It warmed his heart to think that she cared how long he would be gone, but when Francis jumped up onto his horse, Julian convinced himself she was more concerned about her family members than him.
“Well, good luck. I hope you encounter a stream of coaches all headed this way. I don’t think any one of us want to have to eat another hundredweight of pies if they don’t arrive,” she said.
Julian put a foot into the stirrup of his saddle and in one smooth motion mounted his horse. In a world where all men rode, he was particularly skilled at handling horses. As he settled in his seat, he chanced a glance at Francis and James, stifling a smile at their obvious appreciation of his skills.
With a gentle tap of his boots on the side of his horse, he led the small group away from the front of the castle and out onto the long drive.
The morning was crisp, but since there was only a slight breeze, Julian was warm and comfortable in his woolen coat. They rode on in silence for a time. Rather than attempt to start a conversation, Julian was content to enjoy the pleasant peace of the Derbyshire countryside. It was good to be back in England.
When they reached the turn in the road which led to Midway, Julian pulled his horse up. “Perhaps it is a little early for anyone who made it to Ashby and stayed the night to have set out on the road.”
Francis nodded. “We must find someone if we head on to the next village. The weather when we left London was not that bad. It was only after we left Leicester that we encountered any snow to speak of.”
As they rode on toward Ashby de la Zouch, the worry that had sparked in Julian’s mind late the previous evening began to grow. It was odd that only the Saunders party had arrived at Newhall Castle. Even more concerning was the fact that they were the only people he and Lady Margaret had not put on the initial guest list.
“She wouldn’t,” he muttered under his breath.
He and the countess did not see eye to eye on many things, but until this morning, he would not have thought her capable of actively seeking to do him or the Newhall title harm. She had stolen a prized necklace from the estate. Could her spite plumb to a deeper level? The closer they drew to Ashby, the more the fear within him grew.
They passed through the village of Packington, but still did not see any travel coaches. Julian licked his lips; his mouth was dry from sucking the cold morning air in through his teeth. An image of his mother sat in the forefront of his mind as he rode. He pictured her laughing long and loud over her foolish son and her cuckold of a late husband.
When a local gentleman passed them on the road, it took a great deal of effort for Julian to muster a nod of acknowledgement. If his mother had indeed managed to sabotage his house party, he would be the laughing stock of theton. He didn’t want to think how much damage his reputation would have suffered by the time he showed his face in London again.
Francis dug his heels into his horse and came to ride up alongside Julian. Julian then looked across at him, taking comfort from the fact that Francis looked as worried as he felt.
“I can go into the local taverns or inns to inquire if you like. You shouldn’t have to do it yourself,” offered Francis.
A bitter chuckle was Julian’s response. “Ashby is not that big a place. The amount of people who were supposed to be coming should mean that the town would be full of coaches. If no one has arrived from London, we will soon know.”
Julian found himself liking Francis Saunders. He was not your usual run-of-the-mill son of theton.He, like his father, Charles, actually worked for a living. Francis’s older brother, William, who had been with Julian in Paris, was cut from the same cloth. Will was a warm and friendly chap, who was as at home in the dingy taverns of Paris as he was in the glittering ballrooms of London.
As they reached the town, they turned into Market Street. The Bull’s Head Inn was on the left. There were no coaches or carriages out the front. Francis took the lead and brought them around into the stable yard at the back.
As James and Francis dismounted from their horses, Julian remained in his saddle. He wanted to get down from his mount, but he knew the moment he did he would have all his worst fears confirmed. A young stable boy came over and took the reins of James’s and Francis’s horses.
