Page 38 of Any Rogue Will Do
Lottie laughed at the subject change. “Of course. Help yourself to whatever you desire.”
Ethan wiggled his eyebrows lecherously.
“Bacon, sir. As muchbaconas you desire.”
He rose to get a plate for himself. “One must specify these things when given carte blanche from a scheming tart. This looks excellent. My compliments tae your chef and the pig. Speaking of pigs, what are we tae do about Montague?”
Lottie shook her head. “I imagine that segue was smoother in your head.”
“In my mind, I sounded witty.” Taking a seat beside her, he grew serious. “Lottie, he hurt you. On purpose and in a public place. You have bruises. We can’t know what he’s capable of. You made me promise not tae call him out, so I’m assuming maiming him would be frowned upon. And by that look, I’d say I’m correct.”
Raising a brow, she shook her head as if chastising a naughty child. “Your solution is to visit Kent for a few days?”
“Cal and I came up with a plan, if you’re agreeable. We go tae Woodrest, help your old brewmaster—who’s my new one, so thank you for that—settle in. You’re free tae traipse about the countryside. Meanwhile, Cal will visit some of Montague’s favorite haunts. He’ll keep an ear tae the ground and let us know if the man is planning anything. We said we’d give this a month. Might as well escape tae the country if we can, aye?”
They’d agreed to a month. That left three weeks before they’d return to simple friendship and she’d have to revisit her plan. Imagining the house by the sea didn’t bring the comfort it usually did. “I’ll speak to Agatha about Kent. When Montague finishes his little tantrum, he’ll move on to more low-hanging fruit. Surely there will be an indiscriminate heiress or two running about this Season for him to play with.”
“Indiscriminate heiresses are surprisingly hard tae come by—not that I’ve made a habit of looking for them. But I assume if they were common as ugly hats, then everyone would have one.”
Chapter Fourteen
Few things were more glorious than Kent in October. Lottie sighed and settled against the padded velvet seat, angling her body so she wouldn’t lose the view out her window. The road wound through gently rolling hills lined with orchards and fields peeking through fog. The bounty had been gathered, leaving vast acres ready for winter. It reminded her of home in many ways. This place embraced simpler living and the toil of agriculture.
“The mistress of Woodrest would be conveniently located to entertainments, modistes, and the best society in Town. She’d be close enough to visit friends and family in Berkeley Square.” Agatha kept her voice even, although the twinkle in her eye gave her away. “Perhaps she’d even stay current with fashion. No more livestock-birthing gowns in her godmother’s drawing room. Imagine.”
“Does that mean if I were mistress of Woodrest, you’d leave London of your own volition?” Lottie teased.
Agatha harrumphed but the twinkle remained.
“That’s what I thought. In the past ten years, I think you’ve left London only a handful of times. Two in recent history were because you had to chaperone me.”
“Surely more than a handful,” Agatha said.
Ticking the list off on her fingers, Lottie said, “One picnic on the heath where you complained of the wind and the flat champagne—”
“But the pudding was passable.”
“Yes, the pudding was decent. Then there’s the much-dreaded annual house party at the Clemens estate over Christmas, and Mother’s funeral.”
“I couldn’t miss that, now could I?”
Lottie smiled at the bittersweet memory. “That day would have been impossible without you. Even if you did stand at the graveside fussing at Mother for dying in the depths of Westmorland instead of someplace civilized.”
Outside the window, Ethan rode Ezra back to her side of the carriage. With a look he asked a silent question, which she answered with a nod. Yes, all was well. He pointed to a spot in the distance.
“We are almost there. Or at least, I think that’s where Ethan is pointing.”
“Perfect. My old bones are done rattling around in this box on wheels.”
The damp low-lying fog shrouded the lines of a stone house, making it appear as if the battlements and rooflines rose out of thin air.
“It reminds me of a castle from Arthurian legend.” Lottie smiled at the utter ridiculousness of the architecture, with its frivolous curves offset by crenellations and gargoyles, all hovering above the mist.
“One of his ancestors must have been of a fanciful bent when designing this estate,” Agatha said. “If you were to give me babies to spoil, I might resign myself to spending quite a bit of time here.”
Lottie rolled her eyes. “You know this engagement is temporary.”
“And you know that brawny gentleman out there would make it real in a heartbeat. He has ridden in the rain and drizzle for the last few hours just so we would have more room in this coach. You should keep him.” Agatha pointed a bony finger toward Ethan, who appeared soaked to the skin despite a hat and caped overcoat.
