Page 71 of What a Widow Wants

“Shall I name them forthwith? One or two will positively make you gasp.” He chuckled and she gave his back a smack.

“No, thank you. I do not need such confirmation. Your mother assured me of the same thing, though again, I did not believe her at the time.” If only she had, so much could have been avoided. “So how did you find us? I had written we were going to my cousin’s in Copsale.”

“A judicious bribe of one of Theale’s grooms and then the good luck to find Davies returned to the Chequers. I almost made a grievous mistake there.” Matthew’s voice had gone grim.

“What happened?”

“I convinced Davies to tell me where he’d put you out of the carriage and was getting it hitched up to come and get you. Which would have taken much longer and been disastrous considering I just got to you in the nick of time.”

A chill chased down her spine and she clutched him tighter. “What changed your mind?”

“The smug smile on his weasely face. Something else had to be afoot. With a little more persuasion, he told me he’d hired three men to murder you and Ella.” His back tensed and she rubbed it to reassure him. “At that, I leaped onto Lucifer and we pounded the road all the way there. When I didn’t see you at the dancing tree, I continued down the road, calling your name, and finally saw the outline of the barn and their lantern glimmering in the darkness.”

“Thank God you did, my love.” She tightened her arms around him. “Can you ever forgive me for creating all this havoc?”

“You I forgive everything, utterly and completely. The Marquess of Theale,” his voice lowered menacingly, “will not escape so easily.”

“Do nothing that will end with your being taken from me, Matthew.” The thought of him avenging her at the cost of his own life was intolerable.

“Do not worry, love.” He chuckled, a lighter spirit restored. “I vow you will not be rid of me for a very long time to come.”

Amen to that.

CHAPTER 30

Sometime in the hours before dawn Fanny awoke with a slight jolt when Lucifer stopped. Nestled comfortably against Matthew’s back, she must have fallen asleep in the night, lulled to slumber by the gentle motion of the horse’s smooth gait. Opening her eyes on a lamp-lit courtyard, she stretched carefully and let go of Matthew’s waist. “Where are we?”

“The Chequers. What-ho, groom!” Matthew called loudly. Several minutes later a young stable lad stumbled out of the building opposite, shaking his head and pulling on his coat.

“Can I help you, milord?” The boy yawned fiercely, then peered up at Matthew.

“Help the lady down, lad. I need to pass her the child here.” He still held the sleeping Ella against him.

“Right away, sir.” He darted toward Lucifer’s rear and reached up to her. “Grab my hands, lady. I’ll catch you.” The lad looked no more than twelve, scarcely tall enough to reach the big horse’s withers. But she was too tired to argue. After everything that had happened yesterday, this shouldn’t daunt her at all. Leaning forward and trusting again to God, Fanny slid off the horse and into the arms of the lad, who was actually sturdier than he looked. Her feet hit the smooth cobblestones that paved the yard and she slipped, but the boy righted her and she breathed a sigh of relief. Immediately, she turned to Matthew, arms open.

Gently, he picked Ella up, still dead to the world, and lowered her into Fanny’s waiting arms. The exhausted child barely stirred and Fanny cradled her against her breast while Matthew dismounted.

“Give him a full measure of oats and all the water and hay he wishes.” Patting Lucifer’s withers fondly, Matthew pulled a coin from his pocket. “This is yours, lad, if you treat this fellow right.”

“Yes, milord.” The lad bobbed his head and took the reins, looking up at the big black horse skeptically. “What’s his name?”

“Lucifer, but remember the devil was an angel before he fell.”

“Yes, milord.” Wrinkling his brow, the boy and horse moved off toward the stable.

Arms heavy with the sleeping Ella, Fanny wanted to sink down where she stood. Exhaustion had claimed her, despite her nap on the horse. The thought must have been written on her face, for Matthew plucked the girl from her arms, pillowing her head on his shoulder.

With a sigh, Ella burrowed her head into his neck but did not wake.

Placing his other arm around Fanny’s shoulder, Matthew led them toward the inn. Drawn to his warmth and the comfort of his presence, Fanny leaned against him, happy to have his strength to depend upon. Never had she been so tired in her life.

Dark and quiet, the inn’s taproom enveloped them with warmth from the banked fire on the far side.

“I could sink down right here and sleep.” Fanny gazed hungrily at the hard tables and benches.

“A moment or two more, sweetheart, and I can offer you much softer accommodations. Innkeeper.” Matthew called toward a dark doorway that might be the kitchen.

A moment or two later, a middle-aged woman appeared, yawning as she pulled a robe close against her chest. “Can I help you, my lord?”