The Accidental Duke (The Mad Matchmaking Men of Waterloo Book 1) by Devlin, Barbara (love letters to the dead .TXT) 📕

Beaulieu rested his elbow atop the mantel and motioned for Anthony to join him. Together, they huddled, whispering and gesturing about what she did not know, and she strained to hear them. At the front window, Emily perched, watching for the coachman.

“Would the lady like a refreshment?” the kindly innkeeper asked. “We have ale, or I can have my wife prepare a pot of tea.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I am quite content,” Arabella replied with a smile. “You have a delightful establishment, sir.”

“Thank you, my lady.” He bowed. “But I am Jones. If there is anything you require, you have but to ask.”

Quiet fell on the pleasant inn, save the tick-tock of a clock on the wall. The constant rhythm lulled her into a dreamlike state. Arabella stretched out her hands and warmed them before the roaring blaze, and once again sleep beckoned. Relaxing, she closed her eyes and sighed.

“Lord Rockingham, there are men on horseback, riding down the lane” Emily shouted. “I recognize them. They are Shaw’s men.”

Arabella came alert and flew upright, and her heart hammered in her chest. Fear traipsed her spine, and she tossed aside the blanket. As Anthony and Beaulieu rushed to the window, Arabella leaped from the chair.

“Bloody hell, it is the dastardly cavalry.” Anthony cast a worried glance in her direction. “And there are too many to fend off.”

“Look there.” Beaulieu pointed. “A rig joins them.”

Arabella fought fast rising nausea and clutched her throat. They had not traveled so far and risked so much to lose the fight, and she would not cede the battle. Resolved not to panic, she gathered her wits and searched her mind for a solution, one that would see them safely beyond Shaw’s influence.

“It is Shaw.” Anthony gritted his teeth. “We are heavily outnumbered.” To the innkeeper, her husband asked, “Is there a servants’ entrance?”

“Aye, my lord.” Jones stepped aside and extended his arm. “Past the kitchen and through the storeroom.”

“If anyone asks, we were never here,” Anthony asserted. “I shall see you are handsomely rewarded for your assistance.”

“I heard nothing.” Jones averted his gaze. “And no reward is necessary, my lord.”

With that, Anthony grabbed Arabella by the hand and rushed past the counter. They walked through the somewhat rustic kitchen and into the crowded pantry, which was stacked high with crates and barrels. A small door opened into the mews, where the stablemaster brought a third horse to harness. When he spied them, he tipped his hat.

“Almost done, Lord Beaulieu.” The stablemaster adjusted a leather strap.

“An additional crown is yours, if you can finish the job in half the time.” Beaulieu tossed a coin into the air. “I must away, now.”

“Aye, sir.” The stablemaster ran back into the stable.

“Beaulieu, you have to admit we cannot outrun men on horseback, and Shaw drives a curricle.” Anthony pulled her into the crook of his arm, and she leaned against him. “They would easily overtake your heavier traveling coach, and what chance would we stand against their number?”

Arabella didn’t like the sound of that. Something in his voice gave her a sense of foreboding, and she tried to ignore what her instincts all but screamed.

“Are you serious about this, major?” Beaulieu addressed Anthony by his military rank, and it was not lost on her. “I thought your plan a contingency, in the event of an emergency.”

“This is an emergency, and I know of no other way.” With his thumb, he caressed her cheek. “My wife and unborn child take precedence, but I fear Shaw may still catch you, unless you divert and take an alternate route to the city.”

Puzzled by the curious conversation, Arabella tried to discern her husband’s meaning. After all, he was a priority for her.

“Are you unwell, my lady?” Emily inquired, but Arabella ignored the maid.

“Let us ask the stablemaster.” Beaulieu flagged the grey-haired, bespectacled groom. “I say, is there another path to London that does not involve the turnpike or traverse Shepperton? Perhaps, a small town to the west?”

“Aye, sir.” The stablemaster tightened the bellyband on the fourth and final horse. “You can take the road at the opposite end of the alley, which leads southeast, to Hersham. It will add about a half a day to your journey, though.”

“There is our advantage.” Anthony compressed his lips. “You must push for Hersham, while Shaw and his men will undoubtedly take the turnpike, north, to Shepperton. By the time they realize their mistake, you should be out of danger.”

“And what of you?” Beaulieu grimaced and shifted his weight. “You are a brilliant military strategist, and I submit this is war, albeit of a different sort. Is there not another option?”

“No.” Anthony stiffened and her suspicions roused. “If Shaw takes my wife, he holds the power, and I would submit to anything to protect her and my heir. We may as well yield the field, and I cannot allow that, when I might forestall catastrophe.”

Thoroughly confused, Arabella watched the events before her play like a scene at a theatre on Drury Lane, and none of it inspired confidence. Why did Anthony speak as though he wouldn’t be traveling with her?

“My lord, you frighten me, and before I leap to unsupported conclusions weaved of whole cloth, I would have you explain yourself.” She shifted so she could hug him about the waist. “You are going with us, so there is no cause for alarm. Shaw cannot harm me when I have you to defend me. Is that not what you mean?”

“My sweet girl.” His grip tightened, but it did little to calm her nerves. “We cannot let you fall into Shaw’s clutch else he holds all the cards. No matter what happens, if one of us escapes, we can ultimately defeat Shaw and my father, because I know you would fight for me.”

“To my last breath,” she replied without hesitation. “I would move heaven and earth for you, my lord.”

“Oh, I’m counting you.” He smiled. “Because you are quite the force majeure when you