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Chapter Thirty-Nine
Thomas ran.
It was stupid, probably. A complete departure from his recent resolution to think more before taking action.
But in this situation, so many emotions had just been cut loose between himself and Mother, Thomas felt as though he was being fueled by emotions alone.
And his emotions were telling him that no matter what questions still stood between them, no matter what suspicions hung in the air, no matter who had done away with his father and attempted to come after Thomas as well, he and Lady Evelina were meant to be together.
He was dressed and halfway down the stairs when he realized that the problem was going to be convincing her of that.
Never mind. Plenty of time to think of a solution on the journey over. It’s already—what, half an hour until sunset?
There was no time to lose.
“Ah, I’m glad to have caught you!” Thomas said, catching the butler as he left the dining room, where he’d undoubtedly been instructing other servants on something to do with that evening’s meal. “Call for the carriage immediately.”
“Your Grace?” the butler said, looking rather wary around the eyes. Thomas couldn’t help but laugh at the awkward reality that had become of their relationship—it seemed that Thomas was always tumbling into the room, caught up in some form of high-stakes dramatics to make the butler’s problem. “Are you, ah, well?”
“Not at all,” said Thomas gleefully. “Unfortunately, there’s no time to explain. The carriage, if you please.”
The butler looked as though he was on the verge of arguing—an immense occurrence, as Thomas had never seen the butler argue with anyone in the Russell family ever, over the course of two decades—but he at last conceded with a nod. “Very well. I shall do so at once.”
As the butler strode off to request the carriage, Thomas stood in the foyer, shifting his weight. He was caught between two trains of thought.
The first had to do with squelching his discomfort at riding again in a carriage at all. It was silly, but since the accident, the thought of setting foot once more in that enclosed little box, where he could once again be directed into the open hands of his demise, absolutely terrified him.
Thankfully, he had interviewed and hired the new footman himself, double checking several times over that his background was legitimate. There should, by all logic’s sake, be no issues.
Here’s to hoping, anyway.
The other thought consuming Thomas at the moment, of course, was what on earth he was going to say to Lady Evelina to sway her back to him the very eve of her engagement ball to another man.
“Your Grace,” said the butler, returning, a little flushed in the face. “The carriage awaits.”
* * *
Thomas rode the whole way with his face pressed up against the small window cutout, cataloguing the streets and landmarks they passed, ensuring for his own sanity that they were not taking any routes out of the way. He was familiar with the way to Alderleaf Manor at this point—extremely familiar, as he’d rode the full length of it twice now.
Today, however, time was of the absolute essence.
“Stop here,” Thomas called to the coachman, when they were yet two streets away from the property.
“Your Grace?” The coachman called back, confused. “We are not yet at the destination.”
“That doesn’t matter. In fact, it’s better that we’re a bit of a way’s away.”
The coachman didn’t argue further, instead pulling the carriage to the side of a nearby park. Thomas thanked him when he got out, relieved all the same to be back in the fresh air and outside of the enclosed space, and set off toward his task.
It was late afternoon. The sun was still high in the sky, peeking through wispy cloud cover. No one else would be arriving for an evening ball just yet, and Thomas had little mind to busy himself trying to convince the household staff—or worse yet, the Duke of Alderleaf himself—to let him through. He did not actually have a death wish, after all, regardless of what Gerard thought.
Instead, Thomas gave the main entrance of Alderleaf Manor a wide berth. He found the gaping fence post where he’d snuck into the gardens twice before. After looking both ways to ensure that no one was around to see, he slid through, careful not to catch his clothes on the spikes of the ornamental iron.
The gardens were different in the daytime. While at night, they promised coverage and the sweet scent of fresh foliage, but during the day, Thomas felt more exposed than ever. Perhaps that was because he didn’t have Lady Evelina with him this time, guiding the way.
Perhaps it was also because of the dozens of servants out and about, trimming hedges and hanging lanterns about the pathways, preparing for that evening’s ball.
He took a moment to stand in the cover of the original tree they’d hidden behind and formulate a plan. He knew where the back entrance to the house was. The challenge would be getting there without a servant stopping him. He could not risk being brought before the Duke of Alderleaf himself, not now, not when his singular priority had to be Lady Evelina.
