Verity had not suffered such fear that summer they’d fallen in love. They’d kissed in the darkened stables once and she’d giggled at the forbidden location. They’d explored a cave in the hillside and she’d been fearless.
He assisted her into the carriage but her cold hand slipped from his.
Then she turned and looked to him, defeat writ in her eyes.
“Don’t follow us,” she said softly.
And after Miss Hamilton had piled more blankets upon her lap, Miss Nash ably set the horses in motion, while Miles could only watch on as the phaeton trundled away up the lane, Daniel perched on the back with half a crumpet in hand, the drizzle falling straight and steady upon the hood.
Lynch’s brow knitted tight. “What do we do now?”
With a thrust of hand through his drenched hair, Miles strode over to his equipage and checked the harnesses. There was plenty to do: dry themselves out, get the horses rested, make a plan.
But…
“Now?” Miles stroked the horse’s mane. “We take the carriage and follow Miss Seymour.”
22
THE APPLE HASTETH NOT THE AUTUMN
Back and forth, forth and back, Miles marched apace in Verity’s drawing room, his boots still damp.
In truth, he’d expected to be turned away by a haughty butler but Miss Nash had answered his knock, and although her eyes had been anxious, her smile had been kind.
Then he’d been taken up the stairs and placed in this drawing room to stew like a rabbit for over an hour. Tea and warmed towels had been provided by a maid but thankfully, as dusk had deepened to evening, a youngish butler named Jenkins had entered with a decanter of claret.
Miles had told Lynch to take the carriage home as the horses needed a thorough rub down, a bag of oats and a damn good rest, then send a lad over with Lupin, who was now stabled in the mews at the end of this street.
He quickened his march.
Could this be why Verity had jilted him all those years ago?
If so, had she thought him so weak in his affections that he wouldn’t have understood? Would not have accommodated her every need? He scrubbed a hand over his face; they’d been so young.
The door opened and he turned. “Miss Nash. How is Verity?”
“Much improved, my lord. Now that she is surrounded by the familiar.”
“And a large well-lit room, I presume.”
“Yes.” She gave a half-smile and stepped forward, leaving the door ajar. “We thought such instances of distress might have left her, or abated at least, but…”
“This hasn’t happened for a while?”
“She still feels…nervous, when in a dark narrow hallway, for example, but she’s not had such an instance, where her breathing is hampered and she faints, for quite some years now.”
“What caused it in the first place?”
“I… I cannot say.” She clasped her hands. “That is for Verity to do so. Because you should also know this is not the sole burden that my dearest Verity carries…” She held a hand to her lips. “There, I’ve said too much.”
Frustration nipped at Miles’ heels and he commenced pacing the rug once more.
“However…” Miss Nash chewed her lip.
Miles halted.
“I have told Verity you are here and have persuaded her to speak with you.”
