Page 63 of The Seductive Love of a Lady
‘I will tell her I am doing my utmost to get you home to her.’
Drew had done nothing to deserve this man’s help, and yet he was helping him. This was the family who loved Mary.
‘Tell John to make sure she eats. She has a habit of not eating when she is distressed and she must think of the child.’
‘The child?’ Wiltshire’s eyebrows rose.
Andrew simply looked at him. What was there to say?
Wiltshire’s hand rested on Drew’s shoulder. ‘We will get you out of this.’
When he left, the key turned in the cell door, locking Drew in. The cell was private but it was probably only a yard and a half wide, and two yards long, and the grey stone was gloomy, slimy with damp and cold.
He hated silence and solitude; it encouraged introspection and he had always avoided that.
He lay down on the narrow bunk, with its uncomfortable straw mattress, shut his eyes and tried to sleep.
Sleep would be better than being alone with his thoughts.
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Drew paced the length of the cell, sat for a while, then paced again. He would hear nothing today. The magistrate would ride out to John’s and speak with Caro.
At midday, he heard the sound of keys jangling and footsteps walking along the hall.
He went to the small square of bars in the door and strained to look through them.
The guard was followed by Peter.
Drew’s hands wrapped around the cold metal bars and he smiled as Peter came close.
The guard lifted the key to the lock and Drew stepped back, to let the door open.
Peter walked in and threw a newspaper and a small tin of cigars onto Drew’s narrow mattress, as the guard shut and locked the door behind him.
Drew sat down. ‘Feel free to claim a seat…’ he told Peter.
Hands in his pockets, Peter looked down. ‘If it has fleas I will decline.’
A humorous sound broke from the back of Drew’s throat. ‘If it has fleas then so do I.’
‘Mark and Harry are with me, but they would only let one of us up here.’
Drew met Peter’s gaze. ‘It is a sorry ending, is it not?’
‘I doubt it is the end.’ Peter moved the newspaper aside and sat among the fleas. ‘You are a part of the Pembrokes’ clan now, my friend. They are like a damned army, sweeping through every ballroom and salon dispelling the rumours. Someone mentions your name and one of them is there, putting them straight. Uncles, aunts, cousins, cousins of cousins… Marrying Mary was the best thing you could have done.’
‘It was.’ But not for that reason.
Peter slapped a hand on his shoulder. ‘When you get out of here, now you have such powerful friends, you will no longer want to know us.’
‘You will always be my friend.’
‘Mary may not like that.’
‘Mary will not mind. Things are good between us again.’
‘I am glad for you then.’
