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“Instead, you ran off and put yourself in even more danger.” She was quiet for a few seconds before continuing. “I wanted Nicholas to go after you. To use whatever connections he had to bring you home.”
He wasn’t surprised by the revelation. He’d been more surprised that she hadn’t done just that. “What changed your mind?”
“Honestly? He did. I was so angry with him, then disappointed, but he was right. You were a young man who needed to find himself, and it was time for me to stop treating you like a wayward child. No good would have come from attempting to drag you home. But I couldn’t stop myself from worrying about you. I’m so glad you’ve finally returned.”
“You needn’t concern yourself with worries about my running away again. Ten years in the army was more than enough. Of course, I’m sure there is adventure to be had in the colonies…” Somehow he held back his smile as a frown settled between Louisa’s brows.
Louisa swatted him on the shoulder, and he laughed, relief flooding him at seeing her smile.
Louisa’s husband approached and held out his hand. John clasped it in a firm handshake.
“Thank you for looking after my sisters when I wasn’t able to.” There was a lump in his throat, but he spoke around it.
“Your sister has brought me more happiness than I’d imagined possible. But please, take care of yourself. And write often. It will be difficult for her to let go.”
Catherine laughed. Her husband, the Earl of Kerrick, placed an arm around her shoulders, and she looked up at him with a fond smile. Another happy marriage, thank the heavens.
“Don’t worry,” Kerrick said. “With the children around and getting into all sorts of mischief, your sisters have more than enough on their minds. You needn’t worry they’ll lock you in a room to keep you from leaving again.”
Louisa’s eyes lit at the suggestion. “Now that you mention it…”
John gave her another hug. “A locked door might have held me back when I was a youth, but now it would be child’s play to escape.”
Louisa’s smile wavered, and he cursed himself for the casual reference to all he’d undergone while away at war. She had asked him about his experiences, but not wanting to worry her, he’d glossed over the many horrors he’d seen. Her smile brightened again after a moment, and he had to give her credit for not pursuing the subject. The sister he’d once known would have hounded him for all the details.
The horses snorted behind him, his cue that he should be on his way. He’d dreaded coming home again, imagining he would be smothered by Louisa and, to a lesser extent, Catherine. But he’d enjoyed this family reunion. Becoming friends with Overlea had been an unexpected benefit. And Kerrick… Well, it was impossible not to like the man. He had a sense of humor that never failed to chase away John’s darkest memories.
“I must be going now. I have a long ride ahead of me.”
Catherine embraced him again, then Louisa. Their smiles when they stepped back were as different as the two women. His younger sister’s grin was bright, hopeful. She’d always seen the best in people and in most situations. Louisa’s was genuine, but there was a hint of sadness hidden behind it.
“I promise to write, although I hope my letters will be lacking in excitement. I’m looking forward to settling into a quiet life in the country. And perhaps you’ll be able to visit soon.”
“We’ll hold you to that,” Catherine said.
A footman opened the carriage door for him when he turned. He gave the man a curt nod of thanks as he climbed into the conveyance, a traveling coach that apparently now belonged to him given it sported the Lowenbrock crest on the door.
John settled back against the cushions, refusing to look out the window. There was only so much emotion he could handle, and he refused to allow this departure to be a melancholy one. He’d meant what he’d said when he promised he’d be seeing his sisters again soon. With any luck, the house he’d inherited would be livable. His solicitor had also assured him that he was a wealthy man.
And as he’d had to remind himself several times since first learning of his inheritance, he was now a marquess. He wasn’t sure he’d ever adjust to that fact.
The carriage glided over the cobbled streets with very little jostling. He’d never traveled in such luxury before, but he meant to make use of the time ahead. A leather portfolio waited for him on the seat opposite. Markham had insisted he needed to read the documents it contained, but John had yet to even glance at them. He couldn’t put it off any longer. It was time for him to become familiar with what it meant to be the Marquess of Lowenbrock.
With a slight smile, he pulled out the first of several large envelopes and scanned through the contents to gain a quick overview of the documents. The carriage ride would take two days if he stopped for the night. He wouldn’t be able to make his way through all the documents if he read through them with care, but he would have a good head start.
He hadn’t expected to find enjoyment in the task. Until that moment, he hadn’t allowed himself to think about how much he’d missed his studies. His father hadn’t been able to afford a tutor for him, but he’d studied all manner of subjects with the help of their parish’s reverend. Granted, he’d been studying classical languages, familiarizing himself with works of literature and gaining a modicum of proficiency in any subject Reverend Harnick had introduced. John’s greatest wish had been to procure one of the scholarships to Oxford that were made available to those who showed promise but who wouldn’t otherwise be able to attend.
He’d long ago come to terms with the death of that dream. After all, facing down a field of enemies who wanted nothing more than to see you dead had taught him to focus on the present. On killing without taking in the faces of the men he ran through with a sword.
Against all odds, his life had returned to what it had once been, only better. Never again would he have to fight daily for his very life. He had a new challenge ahead of him in figuring out what it was that lords did all day other than go to their clubs. And he no longer had to worry about his sisters.
Of their own accord, his thoughts drifted back to that night at the tavern, when he’d said goodbye to his brothers in arms. His second family. But instead of thinking about when he’d see Ashford and Cranston again, he couldn’t help but remember the woman he’d saved. Molly.
He’d gone back to the tavern last night, making an excuse to his sisters that he wouldn’t be out long. And he’d meant to keep that promise even if Molly had been there. But true to her word, he hadn’t spotted her. He’d been relieved and had sent up a silent prayer that she’d be able to find another occupation that was safer. Taking in sewing perhaps. Louisa had done that to bring in extra money before she married Overlea.
But another part of him had been disappointed he wouldn’t see her again. Her creamy, fair skin had served to make her eyes stand out. Were they as deep a blue as he remembered, or had his mind embellished that detail? It had been dark in the tavern, and there hadn’t been any lamps outside when he’d escorted her to the carriage, so he couldn’t be certain. Her dark hair had started coming undone, and he thought about what it would have felt like to remove the hairpins and allow the mass to fall. How far down her back would it reach?
He was jerked from his thoughts when the carriage came to a halt and the door was thrown open moments later.
