Page 36 of Truly, Madly, Daring

Cat shook her head. Her hands were tight little fists now as she fought to keep calm. She was shaking with emotion, with frustration and hurt and disappointment, but she had known it would be hard. She had known. “I give you my word of honour, that I will never do so. I will never seek you out. If we ever see each other again, it will be at your instigation. Not mine. I swear it.”

“You lie,” he said, his gaze upon her so intent she felt he was looking into her soul, into the recesses of her mind where she had hidden her dreams of him.

“I am a Barrington,” she said coldly, meeting his gaze, refusing to let him intimidate her. “I do not give my word and then break it.”

“You will leave me be, never seek me out, if I allow you to write to me?”

Cat nodded, her throat so tight she could barely swallow.

“I won’t read them,” he said, watching her. “I’ll throw them directly onto the fire.”

“That is your right,” she said.

I won’t cry. I won’t cry. I won’t cry.

There was a taut silence, and all Cat could hear was her own heart beating, the stupid thing still battering itself against her ribs although it had broken into pieces.

“Very well. A deal,” he said, holding out his hand to her.

Cat moved towards him on legs that did not seem equipped to carry her. She placed her hand in his.

“A deal,” she agreed, holding his gaze.

He looked away first and let go of her hand, walking to the door without another word. Cat held her breath as he grasped the doorknob and then paused.

“Good luck to you, Lady Kilbane.”

“Goodbye, my lord.”

And then he was gone.

16th of February 1845, between Scunthorpe and Lincoln.

The following day’s journey was just as frenetic and uncomfortable as every other mile they had travelled, but Emmeline hardly noticed the discomfort. She alternated between daydreaming about the way it had felt to be in her husband’s arms, and gazing at him with what she knew must be a moonstruck expression. She suspected Humboldt and Janet had guessed what had transpired between them, which was mortifying, but then she was newly married and surely every bride had to endure such minor embarrassments.

What made the journey pass far quicker than it might have, was Wrexham’s mood. He seemed… happy. Despite the tedium of being stuck in a carriage that was ill-suited to his long legs, despite the jolting and jostling and the difficulties of the interminable journey, he was polite to Humboldt, unfailingly solicitous to Emmeline, and even held his tongue when the carriage got temporarily bogged down and they had to wait for a neighbouring farmer to help pull them out again.

When they finally reached Lincoln and found a place to spend the night, it was late and long past dinnertime. Wrexham was free with his money, paying generously to ensure they all got a hot meal and when Emmeline traipsed wearily up the stairs to their room, she found servants hurrying back and forth, filling a large copper tub with hot water.

“Oh,” she said, so happy at the prospect of soaking her aching limbs that she felt almost tearful.

“Anything wrong, pet?” Wrexham asked as Humboldt guided him into the room.

“No! Not in the least. A hot bath! Thank you for thinking of it, my lord.”

He smiled at her words. “Well, you didn’t get one in Gretna Green like I promised, as we had to leave with such haste, and only cold water this morning. I thought you deserved a bit of luxury. You’ve been an absolute Trojan. Hasn’t she, Humboldt?”

Mr Humboldt nodded, giving Emmeline an approving smile. “Indeed, Lady Wrexham has borne the difficulties of the journey with grace and fortitude.”

“There, you see, pet, you’ve even impressed Humboldt, and that doesn’t happen often, I might tell you.”

Humboldt coloured and muttered something about Lady Wrexham not needing to trouble herself about what he might think. Emmeline hid a smile.

“Thank you, Humboldt, you are most gracious. We can manage now, however. I’m sure you’ll be looking forward to getting some rest.”

“If you’re sure, my lady. My lord, I will arrange for someone to shave you in the morning, if that suits? Until then, I’ll bid you both goodnight.”

Wrexham stilled, listening as Humboldt went out. “You… You’re sure you don’t mind acting as valet? Usually, I travel with him, of course, but there wasn’t room in the carriage, and I needed Humboldt, so—”