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CHAPTERTHREE
If yesterday’s carriage ride had been a bore, Clara reflected, today’s was…odd.
They sat in the same places, with Mr. Fitzroy across from her once again. But rather than stare out the window, he fixed his gaze on her.
If she’d shifted about in her impatience yesterday, she sat still as a statue now, thinking that if she were dull enough, he’d turn his attention elsewhere. He didn’t.
Finally, when they stopped to stretch their legs, Priscilla and her new husband started a stroll down the lane as the horses were tended. Though servants milled about, she had a moment of relative privacy to turn to Mr. Fitzroy and give him a baffled expression as she asked, “Mister Fitzroy, pray tell me what I’ve done to capture your attention today.”
By way of answer, he held out his arm as though to escort her…somewhere. Which confused her all the more. She did not accept his offered arm, frowning at his bulging biceps instead.
He gave her a long look in return. “I thought we might follow Wyatt and Priscilla in order to stretch our legs.”
He was concerned about her legs? “Mister Fitzroy?”
He cleared his throat. “And we can talk.”
Talk? About what? Her head cocked to the side as she studied him. He hardly seemed the type for niceties. Interest piqued, she gave a tentative nod, and then, after another hesitation because for some reason touching him seemed dangerous, she slipped her fingers into his elbow.
The oddest sensation tingled across her skin at the touch. She pulled as far from him as she could, confused, as they started walking along the grass side of the lane.
“It’s a beautiful day,” he said as they started off. “A bit windy.”
“It’s England. It’s always windy,” she answered, impatient to know what he actually wished to discuss, her nerves suddenly even jumpier than usual.
“Not much for idle conversation, are you?”
That was very true and she gave him an apologetic wince. “Sorry. No. It drives my father mad that I’m not more skilled at disguising my impatience.”
He chuckled at that. “You know, I don’t mind that so much. Spending time with the elite often feels as though we could talk for hours and say nothing.”
She knew what he meant. “The rules are endless. Adhering to them all takes an excessively long time in polite conversation and in every other aspect of life too.” She drew in a deep breath, seizing the opportunity to address her questions about him from yesterday. “Something as a valet I’m sure you understand.”
He gave her a long look. “I think you might have guessed that I’m not strictly a valet.”
She stopped, her eyes widening in excitement. Yesterday, everyone had been so hush hush. Why the sudden change? But she set that question aside as she focused on satisfying her curiosity as to his role in Viscount Ware’s life. “It was rather obvious when you didn’t bring up the luggage.”
“Right,” he answered with a hint of a smile. He looked so much nicer when he smiled. While he could never look soft, he looked warmer. “That’s because I’m actually a relation of Wyatt’s and not really a trained valet at all.”
Several questions tumbled into her thoughts at once. Why would he pose as a valet? What did he hope to gain? Why was he telling her this now?
But she quelled them all and decided to just listen. “Relation?”
“I’m his bastard brother.”
She held in her gasp. It wasn’t shocking that Wyatt had an illegitimate sibling, but that Mr. Fitzroy had been so upfront about it did surprise her. They started moving again, Priscilla and Ware far enough ahead not to hear. “I posed as his valet after he was attacked and received that scar on his cheek. My role is more to help keep him safe than anything else.”
So it had been safety! “The former boxer turned valet is with him at all times in case any issues should arise.”
“That’s right. I’m here should he need me. Protecting my family is my main concern.”
“That’s rather noble.”
“Thank you.” He looked down the road then, tension pulling at his eyes and mouth. “Wyatt is the only family I have. So when I realized there might be a threat on this trip…”
Fear seized her muscles as her hand tightened on his arm and she instinctually moved closer. Odd that when she thought danger was near, she was more than happy to be close to Mr. Fitzroy. “What kind of threat?”
“Nothing that need concern you,” he answered, his voice dropping into a soothing tone. “It’s all very political and it has to do with lords and—”
