“I’ll make your apologies to Fleming and have the stablemaster notified to saddle Midnight,” Miles said.
“Thank you, Miles. I must go change and leave immediately.”
Miles pulled Noah into a fierce hug and slapped his back. “Travel safe, my friend, and give my deepest sympathies to your uncle. If you have need of me, do not hesitate to contact me. I will come immediately.”
“Thank you, Miles.”
“Sir, I will help you change before I leave for Oxfordshire,” Searle said. Noah rushed to his bedchamber, where Searle helped him change into traveling clothes as quickly as possible. “I will see you soon, Mr. Hughes. Safe travels,” his valet said.
“Thank you, Searle. I appreciate you bringing me the news with such haste.” Noah grabbed his hat and gloves and headed back down to the stables. Midnight wouldn’t be happy to be out of the nice comfortable barn again today, but speed was needed here. He had to get to his uncle as quickly as he could. Aiden had been his uncle’s whole world, and Noah had no idea how he would fare without his beloved son.
Within minutes, Noah was on the road to Oxfordshire.
Chapter 9
Two days later, the sunwas streaming in her windows when Bett opened her eyes and stretched her long, lean legs. Today, she would have a visitor to break up the monotony of her life at Crenshaw Manor. Each day that passed, she became more and more aware that this was not her home. It belonged to Peter and Cecily, and she was merely a guest. With Peter’s edict that she couldn’t invite any more guests to the house until after the child was born, she was looking forward to seeing Emma later today more than ever. It had been quite a while since they’d had a chance to spend time together.
Lydia entered her room carrying a tray of tea and toast. “Good morning, my lady. I hope you slept well.”
“I did indeed,” Bett said, pushing back the covers and getting out of bed.
Lydia placed the tray on the table by the fireplace and poured Bett’s tea. “Your bath will be ready shortly.”
“Thank you, Lydia,” she said, pulling on her dressing gown and sitting down by the warmth of the fire that her maid had stirred up. As she sipped her tea, she wondered if she should confide in Emma about her feelings for Mr. Hughes. So far, only her friend Olivia, and now Georgianna, knew of her attachment to him. She desperately wanted to talk about him, but perhaps it would be better if she waited to see how their conversation went first before deciding if she should share her secret.
An hour later, Lydia finished putting the last pins in her chignon. “There you go, my lady. As pretty as ever.”
“Thank you, Lydia. I shall see you later,” she said and swept out of the room. She made her way to the breakfast room to find Peter there.
“Good morning, Bett,” he said, looking up from his newspaper when she walked in.
“Good morning, Peter. How are you faring today?”
“Well, thank you.”
“And Cecily?”
“She had a fitful night.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Bett said as she helped herself to eggs and bacon before joining Peter at the table.
“Miss Bent’s upcoming visit has frayed her nerves. It would be best to cancel tea.”
Bett nearly choked on a mouthful of eggs. “What? You heard Cecily say the other day she was looking forward to seeing Emma today. I think having some company would cheer her spirits.”
Peter slammed his hand down on the table. “You have nothing to say about what’s in my wife’s best interests. I will decide what is best for her, now and in the future. Am I clear?”
Bett stared at her brother-in-law, not quite believing how autocratic he’d become over the past months. Gone was the congenial man who would do anything to comfort her in her grief. Now all Peter cared about was having his will obeyed. It was shocking, to say the least.
“Quite clear. I shall send a note to my friend,” Bett said, pushing back from the table. She no longer had an appetite, and Peter’s heavy-handedness was grating on her. She couldn’t imagine spending day after day listening to Peter’s dictates. A change was clearly needed.
But where could she go? Her parents would always welcome her back, but that wasn’t her first choice. Perhaps anotherextended visit with Georgiana would be her best option until she went to London in the spring.
She hurried upstairs, feeling tears prick the back of her eyes, and burst into her bedchamber.
Lydia, who was sorting through some of her clothes, turned toward the door. “My lady? Is something amiss?”
Bett didn’t answer her maid but instead marched to the small desk and pulled out a sheet of paper.
