Page 101 of The Miracle of Love
“She is my…” He was not going to lie to the Duchess of Dunfell. The old besom was one of the sharpest women he had ever met, and he knew her well from prior assignments because she and her husband were constant targets and often in need of protection. “Miss Montford will be my wife by the time you and I next meet.”
“I thought that might be the situation. You are not going to run away from this one, are you?”
Deklan grinned. “Not a chance.”
“Clever boy. Come see me when you and Miss Montford return to Brighton. I shall hold a tea in her honor.”
Grace inhaled sharply.
“Your grandmother and I were childhood friends. I hope we shall become friends, too.” She patted Grace’s cheek. “If anyone dares disparage you, just send them to me. I shall deal with them.”
He and Grace watched as her Crown agents disguised as footmen returned and the duchess was helped into her carriage.
“That pistol shot by the horse’s ear was either another bit of mischief courtesy of Genevieve,” Deklan mused, “in which event we shall quickly get the truth out of her cousin or the scullery boy who stole your necklace.”
“You have it back?”
He nodded. “The clasp is broken and a few of the diamond chips fell off. But otherwise it is intact.”
“Thank goodness. You said either…do you think the shot scaring the horses was something else?”
“Possibly another attempt on the life of the duchess. The timing of it could have been mere coincidence.”
“Anotherattempt on her life? Good gracious.”
“You aren’t the only lady to have villains after her. But we know of hers and usually keep close watch on them. I’m not sure how this man slipped through her protection and got that close. She berated those Crown agents, but they are good men and not easily fooled. That indicates to me this was likely more mischief planned by Genevieve. A shot only meant to be fired in the air to scare you, perhaps hoping you might be kicked by a startled horse.”
“But she might have hurt the Duchess of Dunfell.”
“She did not count on that, did she? And now she’s made an enemy of that tough old bird.”
“Dear heaven.”
“Serves her right. She’s brought it on herself. Somerset will be steaming mad.”
“What will he do to her?”
He arched an eyebrow as he put his arm around her. “That’s between them. Come on, love. Give me a moment to question this lad, then I’ll take you home.”
She nodded. “Who knew taking tea on a Monday afternoon in Brighton could be so exciting?”
Chapter Sixteen
The following day,Grace found herself in a mail coach with Deklan and four other passengers, all of them crammed together on their way to Scotland. She rode most of the way crushed against Deklan since the man on the other side of her had shoulders as broad as Deklan’s, only he was not nearly as fit or his scent as appealing.
She did not mind these tight quarters nor the bouncing and jouncing as the carriage tore northward at precipitous speed. They stopped only occasionally to change horses. “Twenty minutes to eat and tend to yer necessaries while we hitch the new team,” the driver called out when they pulled up in front of one the many coaching inns along the way.
This was their routine for the next few days because making good time was more important than comfort. As for her, it still was not fast enough. If she could have sprouted feathered wings and flown to Scotland, she would have done so without hesitation.
On the day before they reached the borderlands, Deklan surprised her by having them descend the coach. “We’ll take the last leg of our journey in a private carriage,” he said, then turned to the driver and asked him to hand down their pouches.
The driver seemed to know Deklan and his cousins. “Send my regards to Lor and Donal. What is it with the men in your family? You seem to latch onto the prettiest ladies.”
Deklan glanced at her and grinned. “She is an angel, isn’t she?”
“Aye, she is.” The driver laughed, and with a flick of the reins, drove off.
She watched as the coach clattered out of sight and hearing.
