When Nicholas had returned from dealing with the woman in the stable, his mother and brother had started in right away about the matchmaking house party. Florentia had returned shortly thereafter and helped Nicholas escape, but she would not be able to save him during dinner tonight. Even as his valet finished brushing his coat and moved to help Nicholas don it, Nicholas was dreading the hours’ long ordeal.
He had to think more like Stratford. He needed a strategy for escape. But how could he escape his own home? Impossible.
“Is that all, my lord?” his valet asked.
“Yes, Mr. Glick.”
The valet gave Nicholas his walking stick and moved away and into his dressing room. Now Nicholas would have to make his way down the stairs and to the dining room. His leg ached just thinking about it. Perhaps if he thought hard about how to deal with his mother and avoid an onslaught of silly, young women in his home, he would be able to forget the pain. He made his way toward the stairs, passing the portraits of his ancestors in the gallery. Finally, he started gingerly down the stairs, his stick tucked under his arm and his hand gripped about the railing as though his life depended on it—which it did.
What he really needed was Stratford to swoop in, assess the situation, and draw up a battle plan. But he was on his own, and thus far he could see no escape.
Three
She couldn’t find Sweetie. It was her own fault. Even though she’d vowed to stay home and stop flirting with men, she couldn’t say no when the girls from the village came and begged her to go to the assembly rooms with them for the dance. Amelia had agreed and then everything had been a flurry of hair and dresses and gloves, and she’d forgotten to feed the pig.
She’d remembered just after eleven and had left the dance early to feed poor Sweetie. She felt awful that she’d forgotten, so awful that she hadn’t even minded that she would have to miss her dance with Charles Woolf, who was the most handsome man in the village. It was probably for the best that she did not dance with him. She’d gotten into enough trouble with handsome men.
But when she arrived home, she couldn’t find Sweetie. The house was dark, and her mother and Rose were abed. Amelia had taken her lantern into the yard and searched there and the barn. Then she’d gone to all of Sweetie’s favorite spots, but she hadn’t found the pig. What she had found was ground that had been uprooted. Like any pig, Sweetie loved to root in the earth and had a strong snout for just that purpose. The pig had obviously been looking for food, and Amelia followed the upturned earth. There were stretches where the ground was undisturbed, and Amelia feared she’d lost the trail, but then she’d find another area of destruction and continue on. After about a quarter of an hour, she knew exactly where Sweetie had gone—Battle’s Peak.
She should have thought of that before. Sweetie had eaten all of the horse feed she could find when Amelia had stopped in the stable a couple of days ago. Sweetie was ruled by her belly and would remember the food there and return. Of course, the stable would be closed for the night. It was nearly midnight, after all, so she just hoped Sweetie would be rooting around there still. Lifting her skirts, Amelia hurried toward the Marquess of Averstow’s property. She despaired of the state of her shoes after trekking through all the mud, but it was too late to salvage them now. She couldn’t even feel too bad about ruining them. It had been years since she’d run about in the dark, and she’d forgotten how much fun it could be. She’d forgotten how the sky was full of stars on a night like this, so full that she felt she could almost pluck one from the sky. And she loved the sounds of insects chirping and owls hooting and the stillness of the world blanketed in darkness but for the beam of her lantern.
Finally, she reached the stable and stopped. The door was open. Amelia didn’t know how Sweetie had done it, but she managed to open the door and was probably inside eating Lord Nicholas out of horse feed. Amelia swore. She did not want to enter the stable at night. This property was a breeding farm, and the horses were extremely valuable. What if she was shot under suspicion of being a horse thief? She’d just have to be quick and quiet.
She lowered the lantern’s shutter and picked her way across the yard until she reached the open stable door. She stepped inside, allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness, and was about to whistle for the pig when she heard a man’s voice speaking low. Amelia couldn’t make out the words, so she moved silently closer.
“You’re not so scary, are you?” the man was saying. “You’re simply protective. Like a guard pig.”
She moved closer again and peered inside an empty stall to find Lord Nicholas half-sitting on a tall stool, one leg stretched out before him. He was scratching Sweetie on the head, while Sweetie happily slurped up whatever was in the trough. Of course, as soon as Amelia peered around the corner, Sweetie must have heard or smelled her. She lifted her head, made a loud whining sound, and came to snuffle at Amelia’s skirts. “You are a very naughty girl,” Amelia said. She looked over at Lord Nicholas to see him push to his feet. She wanted to tell him not to go to so much effort for her, but she knew it was probably a point of pride for him. “My lord, I am so very, very sorry Sweetie has disturbed you.”
“No apology necessary,” he said. She caught the wince of pain he gave as he put weight on his left leg. “She’s a clever girl.” He glanced at her as she dipped her head back in the trough, grunting happily. “She opened the stable door all on her own. Of course, if I hadn’t been here, it would have been locked.”
“I wouldn’t put it past her skills to unlock it. She’s too clever for her own good.” Amelia tilted her head in curiosity. “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you here this late? Is one of your mares in labor?”
He shook his head. “Nothing like that. My mother and brother are visiting and have invited the Kentworths for dinner. This was the only place I could think to escape and catch a moment of peace and quiet. And what about you?”
“Me? Oh, you mean why am I here in the middle of the night?” She’d been staring at him, admiring his male beauty, and was taken off guard at his question. “I was looking for Sweetie, of course. It’s completely my fault she went wandering. I forgot to feed her before the ball this evening.”
“Ball?” His gaze slid over her, making her whole body flush with warmth. “Ah, that explains the dress. At the assembly hall?” His brows rose.
“Yes. I left early—as soon as I remembered.” She gestured to the pig who was sniffing at the now empty trough, hoping to find some overlooked morsel. If she kept her gaze on the pig, perhaps he wouldn’t notice her pink cheeks and the difficulty she was having catching her breath. He was having quite the effect on her. “Apparently, it was not soon enough. I am sorry to have disturbed your peace and quiet.”
“I don’t mind. I’m pleased to see you are no longer in tears.”
Amelia felt her cheeks burn hotter. Little chance the light was dim enough that he didn’t notice. “I was hoping you had forgotten about that.”
“A man doesn’t forget a pretty woman weeping in his stable.”
Her cheeks were flaming now. She was tempted to put her hands against them to cool them. A few months ago, she would have mumbled some response and ran away, but now she had some practice in the art of flirtation. And though she had never flirted with anyone as esteemed as the son of a marquess—and a war hero at that—she was not intimidated. Well, not very intimidated.