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“Heard it speed up, think they heard us?” Another scanned the road.
Jacob reached for his pistol, pulling it from his waistband. These men were talking about his carriage, he was certain of it. What was more, they were attempting to follow him. Had they also tried to break into Emily’s room?
But why?
“We’d better try to catch up,” the third finally spoke. “We can’t lose them.”
Jacob waited until they kicked their horses into motion and then he strode back to his carriage. “Turn it around,” he barked before climbing inside.
“Turn what around? The carriage?” Clara asked. “Why?”
He didn’t want to frighten Emily, he really didn’t but she also deserved to know what was happening.
He raked a hand through his hair. “Those men are attempting to find us.”
Both women gasped even as the carriage began to move, following the small track through the woods so that it could reverse direction on the road.
“What will we do?” Clara asked, her voice catching as a hand came to her throat.
Emily’s face had gone pale and he found himself reaching for her hand. “I don’t have a choice. We’ll have to…” He gave a shudder. “Stop at my mother’s.”
Clara choked. “Why? Are we that close?”
“Very close,” he gritted his teeth. “And I can’t chance the open road any longer today.”
Clara gave a stiff nod before she looked at Emily. “Just a reminder. Never turn your back on a snake.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
A few hours later, Emily entered the home of the Baroness Robinson while attempting to keep any malice off her face. Her mother had insisted upon impeccable manners, and it required every one of Emily’s lessons now.
The baroness even looked mean. She peered down her nose at them with her lips pursed. “My great son, finally returned to see his mother.” Her gaze raked up and down him, her frown deepening. “You look how I would expect.”
Emily glanced over at Jacob and then down at herself, knowing that they’d both slept in their clothes and dashed out of the inn before they’d done any bathing at all.
Jacob, for his part, looked bored at her implied meaning. “As do you.”
“I’ll call for baths for all of you once introductions have been made.” The other woman’s nose wrinkled as though the baths couldn’t come soon enough, before she cast her gaze to Emily. “And who, pray tell, is this?”
Jacob shifted closer to her as he cleared his throat. “This is Miss Emily Cranston.”
The baroness looked her up and down. “A pleasure.”
“And you,” Emily answered, dipping into the appropriate curtsey.
“And may I just say, I’m very sorry for your loss.” She covered her heart with her hand in a dramatic display of emotion.
Emily’s stomach clenched in discomfort as her gaze sharpened on the baroness. “You heard about my parents?”
The baroness grimaced, a flicker of some fear or regret in her eyes. “Of course. Such tragic news.”
Jacob straightened next to her, a low rumble emitting from deep in his chest. “We left a few days after the funeral. How could you have gotten the news this quickly?”
The baroness’s mouth opened and then closed before her chin lifted, her fingers fisting against her chest. “I live in Bradford, not Scotland.”
Jacob took a step toward his mother. “Still the news would have likely arrived yesterday or today. You’re telling me that you just happened upon it and then remembered it for this chance meeting with Emily?”
Her skin prickled with discomfort as Jacob’s words sunk in. It had to be more than a coincidence. She’d noticed the baroness’s comment from the first. And he only confirmed Emily’s suspicions, but did they both have biases at play?
