She scanned the room and saw Frits returning with the ices. He had brought one for Georgie as well. “Please do not say anything here. This is Dorie’s day.”
“I quite understand.” Georgie accepted three glasses of champagne from a footman. “I will tell Henrietta after we depart.”
Frits placed the ices on the table. “Ladies, I hope you like what I chose.”
Adeline tasted hers. “Mmm. Muscadine.”
“Mine is lemon.” Henrietta looked at Frits. “Thank you. That was a good choice.”
“My pleasure. I’m glad you like it.” He glanced at Henrietta and Adeline. “Have you told her?”
“About our betrothal? Yes, but we agreed that it would be better not to let it be widely known at the moment.”
He nodded. “Prudent of you. I told Turley and Exeter yesterday. He and Lady”—Frits stopped for a second—“Exeter are traveling to their property in Kent first so that they can attend our wedding.”
Adeline finished her ice and took a drink of champagne. “I am glad they will be there.”
“As am I. It appears that the new Lady Exeter has decided to forgive me my transgressions.”
“It’s about time,” Georgie muttered. “Nevertheless, all’s well that ends well.”
Adeline agreed.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Adeline was finally traveling to Littlewood today. She and her maid strolled out to the gated square in front of the house. The past week had been so busy, it was the first day since Dorie’s wedding that Adeline had had the opportunity to do something not regarding the move, recovering her strength, and the wedding. Even now, her trunks were being loaded onto wagons bound for Littlewood. She and her family, along with Frits and his mother, would depart after luncheon.
As it was, they only had a few minutes before Frits arrived. Yet the square was in full bloom, and she wanted to see the flowers. “I suppose I should be sad to be leaving home, but I’m not. I have heard so much about Littlewood and the people, and animals, that I am excited to finally meet them.”
“I must say I agree, my lady. It will be nice to be in the country again. I’ve had a chance to talk with Lady Littleton’s maid, and she said she’s never seen a more beautiful place.” A small boy ran by, and Fendall reached out to steady Adeline. Her strength had only recently returned.
She smiled at the gesture. Even Maximus had taken to walking slowly so she could lean on him, but he was back with Frits now. “Thank you, but I am no longer ill.”
Her maid gave a tight nod, but said nothing.
“So, we meet again, my lady.”
Adeline raised her chin as she looked at the man who’d tried to whip Peter. “What are you doing here?”
“Lookin’ for you.” The miscreant had a smug smile on his face. “I’m guessing you know where my master’s property is.”
“Property.” She speared him with a glare. How anyone could refer to a member of the human race as property was beyond her. “People are not goods.” She wanted to argue the point with him, but it would not do any good. Instead she inclined her head. “Good day.”
As she turned to leave, he grabbed her arm, his fingers digging painfully into her skin. “Not so fast. I want to know what you did with the woman and the boy. It’ll go better for you if you just tell me.”
Adeline stilled, as rage coursed through her. That would be the first and the last time he threatened her or anyone else. Without looking at the man, she tightened her arm, ready to use him as a brace to whirl around and punch him. But before she did that, she’d give him one more chance. “Release me.”
“Not a chance. You’re coming with me.” Before she could swing her arm, he started dragging her toward the gate.
Fendall dashed past, screaming for help, and the scoundrel changed directions. Adeline dug her feet into the ground, made a fist, and swung, hitting him on his temple. His grip loosened just enough for her to pull away, and suddenly Maximus was there lunging and jumping on the man as he went down. Then there was the sound of wood cracking.
A strong arm came around, holding her firmly against Frits’s solid chest. “I’ve got you.”
Glancing to the side, she saw the villain on the ground, next to one of the small obelisks marking the paths of the square. Blood dripped from the pointed top of the stone, and a pool of blood was forming under his head. “Is he alive?”
“I doubt it.” Frits’s voice was grim. “We have company.”
Fendall was approaching them with a constable and two footmen.
