Page 16 of Maid for the Marquess

“I will remain behind as well. I can’t be inside a carriage.”

“Blast it. And what of Miss Smythe?” I demanded.

“I will travel with you, my lord.” Her soft voice broke into our discussion. I had not noticed her approach, yet now that I saw her, she eclipsed anything else in my vision.

“You need a chaperone,” I insisted, meeting her unique gaze.

“It matters not. No one knows of me. Who I am, where I am going. I am but a lowly maid. I believe, from what Geraldine has ascertained, that you are a gentleman of the highest standing.”

I frowned at her brave words.

“Your coachman and servant will be there,” she added.

“And they would ignore any wrongdoing on my part,” I insisted.

She lifted her chin. “I am not afraid.”

The obvious solution was clear. We all would stay at the inn until Geraldine was able to travel again. I suggested it, but Lydia spoke. “Geraldine is worried that the master will awaken and regret his drunken wagers. He may be angry and perhaps chase after Maddie. She urges you to take her.”

I cursed Barnett as I watched the color drain from Miss Smythe’s face. It was plain that she feared her father.

And the truth was, I wanted to return to Wheaton today. To the quiet order my life had there. Away from all the excesses of the life someone of my station was forced to live with. I was weary. Tired of this journey and the constant twists and turns it had taken.

“Fine,” I ground out. “We leave as soon as the horses are ready.”

I settled into the soft leather of the carriage with a grateful sigh as we began to move. Across from me, Miss Smythe was once again pressed against the farthest corner, her face pale, her gloved hands fisted on her lap. I noticed how thick the gloves appeared to be—not the delicate type I was used to seeing ladies wear, but these appeared more protective. I briefly contemplated why that would be, then dismissed my thoughts. It was not my concern. Yet the words were out of my lips before I could stop them.

“Are your hands not warm in those gloves? It is a hot day.”

She startled at my voice, lifting her head to meet my eyes. I saw the worry and dismay in hers, and once again, it hit me fully in my chest, making me want to ease that distress.

“I am used to them,” she whispered, her fingers moving restlessly over her skirts.

“Fear me not, my lady. You are safe with me.”

“I am not a lady. Not any longer. I am simply a maid. You may call me Madeleine if you desire.”

I tilted my head in acknowledgment. The carriage went over a large bump, causing my foot to jump on the seat. I bit back a groan, shutting my eyes. The pain was growing in its intensity. Edward had wanted to fetch a physician, but I refused, knowing it would delay my departure. I would see my own physician, Dr. Atwood, when we arrived at Wheaton.

“You are in pain, my lord.”

“Yes,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Might you allow me to help you?”

I frowned in confusion. “May I ask how you propose to do that?”

She bit her lip and slid forward. “I spent a great deal of time in the stable watching the grooms work on the horses when he—my father—still had many. When an animal was hurt, they rubbed down the leg with liniment and bandaged it. I tried it once when I fell down the steps and injured my foot. It helped greatly. I practiced wrapping limbs on Lydia and Geraldine and the other servants if they were injured. Perhaps you would allow me to try to ease your discomfort?”

“You wish to rub horse liniment on my skin?” I asked, askance. It was strong and effective for animals—but humans?

“No,” she assured me. “It is not for animals. It will not harm you, I assure you, my lord.”

I paused. That meant she would touch me—a wildly inappropriate occurrence between an unmarried maiden and someone like me. I weighed the consequences.

“Perhaps if you thought of me as a ward and yourself my guardian, you would feel at ease?” she questioned, somehow knowing exactly my worries.

“Yes,” I answered promptly. “Until I decide your future, I am your guardian.” I indicated my foot. “Please begin.”