brother? Your lady’s maid?”
“My brother is out with the gentlemen, and the lady’s maid from Danbury House would not come into this part of town.”
“Wisely so.” He cast a withering look at the man by the wagon. “It is not the thing for a woman of quality to tarry here. Particularly alone.”
She released a stream of garbled explanation. Perhaps it only sounded garbled to him because he’d never had the experience of being talked back to by anyone, much less this slip of a woman who barely approached the height of his shoulder. He held up a hand and finally succeeded in silencing her.
“Miss Barrett, I must insist for propriety’s sake that I escort you back to Danbury House at once.”
She shook her head. “I am sick unto death of Danbury House. And this could be my one and only chance to go to the old Roman wall.”
“Go to the old Roman wall? Now? With whom?”
She’d already turned from him, sweeping toward the wagon and its sagging horse. He moved to grab her arm.
“Miss Barrett—”
She tugged away, freezing his words with her glare. “The driver will leave without me if you do not let me go. I had to bargain for some time to gain passage on his wagon.”
Court gaped. “Don’t tell me you have hired a ride north with that man? Miss Barrett—surely—you cannot mean to—”
“I’ve always wanted to see the old Roman wall,” she said slowly, as if she were explaining to a child. “My whole life, ever since I learned of it in geography and history books. When you joked about hiring a carriage in Sedgefield, I realized I actually might if I wished.”
Good God, so this was his fault. The tradesman shifted from foot to foot, clearly growing uncomfortable with the situation. It would suit Court fine if he would just run off. Otherwise he might need to resort to force to dissuade Miss Barrett from setting off on this journey. There would be struggling and drama, a full scene right here in the heart of town. The idea appalled him, but to step away and let her go was not an option. He would not have her ruination on his hands.
He made one last attempt at reason. “Surely, madam, you are not considering taking an hours-long journey north, unchaperoned, with a perfect stranger. A man,” he added with emphasis. “He is not a gentleman, and you’ve no lady to accompany you at any rate.”
“Your Grace, you must understand—”
“I understand one thing only. You are about to do a dangerous thing.”
She threw up her hands, then clasped them at her waist. “I have no choice, you see. I’ve asked Stephen to take me nearly every day since we arrived, but he is preoccupied with hunting and women. He has no care for history, for exploring the world.”
“Exploring the world? Dear girl, your place is back in the drawing room, beside the fire. Leave exploring to those who are suited to it.”
“I am suited to it,” she cried.
He drew himself up, fixing her with his most intimidating stare. “I will not allow this caper to proceed. I cannot.”
“You have no right to stop me. You have no power over me, Your Grace,” she added for good measure. That was twice in five minutes she had mouthed back to him. Preposterous.
“It’s unfortunate I don’t have any power over you,” he said when he recovered himself. “If I did, I could give you the sound spanking you so richly need and deserve.”
The words were out before he could stop them. She looked appropriately scandalized and turned away, toward the shifty man and his rickety cart. He had to grasp her hand to stop her. Grabbing at someone else’s person—him, the Duke of Courtland. He hadn’t done such a thing since his childhood, and he’d done it twice with Miss Barrett now.
“The wall you speak of is at least six hours’ journey from here,” he said. “Perhaps more.”
“But it’s days from London, and Stephen says we are going home this weekend. Which is why I must leave now. I can be there tonight and take
“My brother is out with the gentlemen, and the lady’s maid from Danbury House would not come into this part of town.”
“Wisely so.” He cast a withering look at the man by the wagon. “It is not the thing for a woman of quality to tarry here. Particularly alone.”
She released a stream of garbled explanation. Perhaps it only sounded garbled to him because he’d never had the experience of being talked back to by anyone, much less this slip of a woman who barely approached the height of his shoulder. He held up a hand and finally succeeded in silencing her.
“Miss Barrett, I must insist for propriety’s sake that I escort you back to Danbury House at once.”
She shook her head. “I am sick unto death of Danbury House. And this could be my one and only chance to go to the old Roman wall.”
“Go to the old Roman wall? Now? With whom?”
She’d already turned from him, sweeping toward the wagon and its sagging horse. He moved to grab her arm.
“Miss Barrett—”
She tugged away, freezing his words with her glare. “The driver will leave without me if you do not let me go. I had to bargain for some time to gain passage on his wagon.”
Court gaped. “Don’t tell me you have hired a ride north with that man? Miss Barrett—surely—you cannot mean to—”
“I’ve always wanted to see the old Roman wall,” she said slowly, as if she were explaining to a child. “My whole life, ever since I learned of it in geography and history books. When you joked about hiring a carriage in Sedgefield, I realized I actually might if I wished.”
Good God, so this was his fault. The tradesman shifted from foot to foot, clearly growing uncomfortable with the situation. It would suit Court fine if he would just run off. Otherwise he might need to resort to force to dissuade Miss Barrett from setting off on this journey. There would be struggling and drama, a full scene right here in the heart of town. The idea appalled him, but to step away and let her go was not an option. He would not have her ruination on his hands.
He made one last attempt at reason. “Surely, madam, you are not considering taking an hours-long journey north, unchaperoned, with a perfect stranger. A man,” he added with emphasis. “He is not a gentleman, and you’ve no lady to accompany you at any rate.”
“Your Grace, you must understand—”
“I understand one thing only. You are about to do a dangerous thing.”
She threw up her hands, then clasped them at her waist. “I have no choice, you see. I’ve asked Stephen to take me nearly every day since we arrived, but he is preoccupied with hunting and women. He has no care for history, for exploring the world.”
“Exploring the world? Dear girl, your place is back in the drawing room, beside the fire. Leave exploring to those who are suited to it.”
“I am suited to it,” she cried.
He drew himself up, fixing her with his most intimidating stare. “I will not allow this caper to proceed. I cannot.”
“You have no right to stop me. You have no power over me, Your Grace,” she added for good measure. That was twice in five minutes she had mouthed back to him. Preposterous.
“It’s unfortunate I don’t have any power over you,” he said when he recovered himself. “If I did, I could give you the sound spanking you so richly need and deserve.”
The words were out before he could stop them. She looked appropriately scandalized and turned away, toward the shifty man and his rickety cart. He had to grasp her hand to stop her. Grabbing at someone else’s person—him, the Duke of Courtland. He hadn’t done such a thing since his childhood, and he’d done it twice with Miss Barrett now.
“The wall you speak of is at least six hours’ journey from here,” he said. “Perhaps more.”
“But it’s days from London, and Stephen says we are going home this weekend. Which is why I must leave now. I can be there tonight and take
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