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“Sleaford is but a half day’s journey north of Alderwood,” he said. “I’m quite familiar with the area, although I’ve not heard of Primrose Farm. But in all seriousness, Lavinia, how do you plan to shepherd your eclectic little flock from London all the way to the northern part of Lincolnshire? No offense to Mr. Drake, but any highwayman you meet along the way would be more frightened of Miss Broome.”
“I’m sure Mr. Grimes and his postilion will see that we are safe,” she said.
“Perhaps,” he said, although he didn’t really think so. The coachman would be more concerned about himself and the horses, and that spotty young postilion, Garrick, looked afraid of his own shadow. Accompanying Lavinia and her friends to Sleaford would put him a few days behind schedule—a welcome few days behind schedule.
“I would feel much better if I were to stay with the four of you on your journey,” he said. “Truly, Lavinia, as a gentleman.”
She tapped her foot in thought. “Perhaps,” she eventually said. “It might reassure the others to have someone—a tall and strong someone—join us as an escort. Hannah will not be pleased, but Delia and Artie will be, I daresay.”
“Excellent,” Lucas said, rubbing his hands together. “That’s settled, then. Now, back to my other question: who are these people? Ease my curiosity just a bit for now.”
She sighed. “Very well. Delia and Artie were associates of my father before his death three years ago. I have known them all my life. And Hannah took care of me when my mother left and has been with me ever since. Will that suffice?”
Her mother had abandoned her when she was young? That was the first real bit of information Lucas had gotten out of her.
But before he could respond, Artie interrupted them. “Oh ho! There you two are, hiding around the corner, having your own littletête-à-tête, eh?” he said as he made his way toward them. How a man could move at such a slow, stiff pace and still appear jaunty, Lucas didn’t know. “We’ve been looking for you. The coach awaits.”
“I have good news, Artie,” Lavinia said brightly. “Mr. Jennings has agreed to accompany us on our way to Primrose Farm.”
“Indeed?” Mr. Drake’s grizzled eyebrows rose in surprise. “Well, well. An interesting development, I must say.” He looked back and forth between Lucas and Lavinia several times.
“We will continue our conversation later,” Lucas said under his breath as he offered his arm to Lavinia. “Let us be on our way, then, Mr. Drake,” he said more loudly.
He’d given himself three, maybe four, additional days to organize his thoughts and plan for the future. Three days to find his purpose in life and save face, especially when it came to Isobel.
I yearn to see you too, my dear brother and friend.
“Is everything all right?” Lavinia asked him.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she replied, frowning at him before returning her attentionto Mr. Drake as they continued on to the courtyard.
He was returning home a former soldier, emphasis on the wordformer. He had no career upon which to build a life; he had no wife, no family of his own. Nothing to show for his years in the army, fighting Bonaparte. Nothing at all.
I shall miss you dreadfully while you’re away, Isobel had said when he’d left for Cambridge.You must write me every day, or I shall die of loneliness.
And Lucas had written to her every day of Michaelmas term—until he’d received his mother’s letter in late November.
You will be pleased to learn that Thomas proposed to Isobel Hewlett, and she has accepted him. She has spent so much time here at Alderwood over the years, I feel as though she is a daughter already.
The one time he’d returned home, he’d endured it because at least then he’d been a soldier—he’dbeensomething the others would have viewed with a level of respect.
But enduring the terrible siege at Badajoz, the one that had nearly taken Anthony’s life, had changed his mind regarding a career in the military. He was done with war. Done with death. But that had left him with a future of few options—preciselynotthe way he’d wished to return home this time.
* * *
“Sucha nice man,” Delia said to Lavinia as their carriage approached the village of Hatfield. “And a fine-looking one, as well. I don’t blame you one bit for watching him through the window that way.”
Artie chuckled, and Hannah narrowed her eyes and shook her head. After a lifetime in the theater, Lavinia wasn’t a person prone to embarrassment, but she could feel herself blushing. “I’mnotwatching Mr. Jennings, Delia,” Lavinia said primly. “I merely find I tolerate the movement of the carriage better when I look out the window.”
“I’m sure that’s the reason, dearie,” Delia said with a twinkle in her eye. “It was very kind of him to arrange for additional cushions. My old bones are not feeling nearly so rattled as they usually do bumping along on these country roads.”
“After so many years of riding in a dogcart from town to town, it’s pure luxury to be traveling this way,” Artie said, patting the cushion tucked comfortably between his arm and the side of the carriage.
Lavinia turned away from the window and the view of Lucas upon his horse. “Did you eat enough at breakfast, Delia?”
“Oh yes,” she replied, although Hannah shook her head and Artie’s buoyant mood dimmed noticeably.
