More Than a Lover by Ann Lethbridge Page B

happened.’
    â€˜There was an accident,’ Caro said, her voice feeling like sandpaper against her throat. ‘Mr Garge was thrown from the box.’
    â€˜Josiah? No. Is he all reet? Where is he?’ She made to push past them.
    â€˜Mrs Garge,’ Mr Read said, his voice gentle but firm, ‘your husband was killed. Instantly.’ He stepped closer and held out his arms. ‘I am so very sorry.’
    The woman stared at his face for a long moment. ‘No.’ Tears ran silently down her face. She collapsed against his chest and he held her while she sobbed. The look on his face startled Caro. Most men did not feel comfortable around a woman in tears and this one was sobbing uncontrollably. But his stoic expression held sympathy and sadness, not discomfort or impatience.
    Caro put her arm around the woman’s shoulders and leaned close. ‘I am so sorry. There was nothing we could do for him.’
    After a few minutes, Mrs Garge raised her head. ‘An accident, you say? What happened? Never in his life has my Josiah found a team that could take him unawares. Not even those dreadful wild creatures Lord Robert used to drive.’
    Garge had been with the family since the twins, Charlie and Robert, had been small children.
    â€˜We think something startled the horses,’ Mr Read said. ‘The wheel struck a rut and shattered. The jolt must have dislodged him from the box.’
    Mrs Garge stared at him, eyes wide. ‘Dislodged him?’
    â€˜There was a rock where he landed. He landed hard. I am sorry, Mrs Garge. It was instant.’
    Stepping back, she gazed around wildly. ‘I have to go. Tell—’ She swallowed loudly. ‘Tell my family.’
    She rushed past them and was gone.
    Caro’s knees felt weak. ‘Oh, the poor woman.’
    Mr Read took her arm and led her to the bench where Mrs Garge had been sitting. Caro sank onto the hard wood and leaned back against the plank wall. ‘I didn’t even think to tell her we would write to Tonbridge, to ask him to ensure she was cared for. I really meant to do that.’
    He put a comforting arm around her shoulders.
    â€˜Give her a bit of time,’ he murmured. ‘I will call round and tell her.’
    The sensation of his strength at her side seemed to seep into her bones. She found herself wanting to lean against him. To confide. Terrified of her reaction, she rose to her feet. ‘Thank you, Mr Read.’
    She hurried indoors.

Chapter Five
    C ourtesy of Lord Tonbridge, the mourners fortified themselves after the funeral on ale, roast beef and meat pies in the taproom of the Lamb and Flag. Blade wasn’t surprised at the large turnout of people, despite the rain. The rumour of his lordship’s generosity had spread far and wide. The widow, flanked by her daughter and son, held court in one corner of the room, accepting condolences as each new guest arrived in front of the large wing-backed armchair the innkeeper had placed there for the purpose.
    Duty done, the guests milled about, conversing and gossiping and tucking into the feast.
    Blade did his best to blend in with the mostly working men and their womenfolk who had come to pay their last respects to a man who was clearly well liked in the community. These were good people and he might well have been one of them had his life turned out differently. As it was, they regarded him with suspicion from the corner of their eyes. The way his fellow officers and members of the ton had regarded him at their gatherings, him being neither fish nor fowl. Recognised, but not legitimate. He let go an exasperated sigh. He should be perfectly used to it by now and didn’t know why he let it bother him.
    The thing that should cause him concern was the group of young men at the back of the room, beside the hearth. Young men were rash, easily roused. The dark glances they cast about them and the intensity of their conversation made him idly draw