Page 62 of The Marquess of Secrets

He would see to his release later. Alone.

He held her, then kissed her flushed cheek.

“Rest. Finish your packing. We leave early in the morning.”

Harrison turned and left the room, aching. But he would respect her wishes.

Always.

* * *

They were mere minutes from arriving at the train station in Hastings, and Lydia’s insides were fluttering nervously. The journey on the train was pleasant enough, the scenery spectacular, and Tremain and Harrison both made her feel at ease.

It had been decided the third brother, Spencer, would meet them at the station with some of the duke’s men instead of meeting them at the halfway point.

Surely, Huntsford hadn’t followed them. Even he couldn’t be that clueless. They were quite the entourage with the brothers, Mr. Robins’ man, Taylor, valets, and two tall, muscled footmen.

She laid her hand across her roiling stomach. The brothers were speaking of Parliament doings as she continued to stare out the window.

Going to a duke’s estate?

Lydia was entirely out of her normal sphere. In days past, she would have been able to handle such a daunting social situation, for her father had brought her up to be confident in dealing with people no matter their standing.

Huntsford destroyed her self-confidence along with many other aspects of her life. She would not allow Huntsford any type of victory. Time to reclaim her life and her former self. If it took small steps, so be it, as long as she kept moving forward.

The whistle blew as they branched off onto the London, Brighton, and South Coast Railway line.

Harrison laid his hand on hers. “Are you all right?” he asked.

He innately knew when she was distressed. Despite how hard she tried to mask her fears, some trepidation must be showing.

“Yes, thank you.”

Once the train came to a stop, Lydia became caught up in a whirlwind of activity, the men forming a protective barrier around her as they stood on the platform.

The footmen and valets saw to the luggage while a tall, lean man walked toward them. Tremain and Harrison shouted warm greetings, meaning this must be the youngest brother.

Never had she seen brothers who looked so dissimilar. Spencer had black-brown hair comparable to Harrison, but his eyes were an oceanic blue. Startling, to say the least. He stood at about the same height as Tremain. Harrison stepped forward and took his youngest brother’s hand, pulling him into a brief, partial embrace.

Though Spencer stiffened, he patted his brother on the back before they parted. Tremain joined in the welcoming. They were close; it was plain to see.

“Spencer, may I introduce Miss Lydia Chesterton? Lydia, my brother, Professor Hornsby.”

He didn’t take her hand, nor did he smile, but gave her a slight bow of greeting.

When his eyes locked with hers, she nearly gasped. How hypnotic—and probing. As if he could see clear to her soul.

“Miss Chesterton. A pleasure.”

Oh, his voice.

Slightly deeper than Harrison’s, but appealing nonetheless.

“The same, my lord.”

Or should she have addressed him as Professor? She would ask Harrison later.

He escorted them to a large brougham carriage, and Harrison and Lydia were assisted inside. The servants and the luggage were loaded into the carriage parked behind. Spencer and Tremain would ride on horses alongside the conveyances.