Page 8 of One Wicked Secret
Defying gravity, Elsa raised her head to meet solid thighs, a broad chest and the Earl of Berridge’s granite glare.
“We’re leaving,” Daniel snarled, moving to side-step the lord. “I’ll decide what’s best formywife.”
The earl blocked his path. “I advise you to reconsider your position and return to the house where we might deal with this privately.”
“We? What happens here is not your concern.”
The earl firmed his jaw. “My wife seeks reassurance, and I’ll be damned if I’ll deny her anything.”
“I hate to disappoint either of you,” Daniel countered. “No one tells me what to do, especially when it concernsmymarriage.”
It appeared they had reached a stalemate.
But then another gentleman joined the fray. A man Elsa had seen at Daniel’s family home in Chippenham a few times in the past.
“Is there a problem here?” the Marquess of Rothley said in a smooth voice that failed to mask an unspoken warning.
“You know what the problem is,” the earl countered. “My wife has an obligation to protect her ladies. Miss Tyler?—”
“Mrs Dalton,” Daniel corrected.
The earl sighed. “Mrs Dalton has been forced to leave against her will. I’ll not stand idly by while a woman is kidnapped from my garden.”
“Fine!” Daniel released her, lowering her gently to the ground and straightening her gown. “Elsa, please reassure the earl so he can ease the countess’ fears.”
She glanced at Daniel, the husband she had longed for in her dreams, the man she had imagined fathering her children. “There is no need for concern, my lord. My welfare is uppermost in my husband’s mind. We’re merely playing a cat-and-mouse game.”
This was by no means a game.
Daniel always took control.
It may be time to rewrite the rules.
The earl eyed them suspiciously. “Can I inform my wife you will see her at The Burnished Jade tomorrow, Mrs Dalton? I believe you’re to attend a watercolour class with Monsieur Delaunay.”
Elsa nodded, though there was every chance she would be in Henley-on-Thames come dawn. “Please tell the countess not to worry. I shall send word if I’m unable to attend.”
Mildly appeased, the earl marched back to the house.
The marquess stepped into the road and hailed Daniel’s coachman, who was parked at the end of the street. He turned to Elsa and inclined his head respectfully. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs Dalton. I believe we met at Thorncroft some years ago. You lived on the neighbouring estate.”
Elsa managed a smile. “Yes, I came charging into the stables on Zephyr and almost ran you down. Daniel let me ride the stallion whenever his father was away on business.”
Amusement lit the marquess’ eyes. “You’d lost your hatand had twigs and leaves in your hair, mud on your cheeks and riding habit.”
Daniel’s scowl softened. “Elsa rides like she’s chasing the wind.”
The hint of admiration in his tone soothed her temper. “That was some years ago. And the last time he invited me to ride his Arabian stallion.”
“I feared only one of you would return home next time.”
An awkward pause ensued.
Doubtless his refusal to let her ride the horse again was related to Clara’s accident. It also explained why Clara left Thorncroft without saying a word and went to live at The Grange in Henley.
Jarvis drew the carriage to a slow stop beside them. Recognising Elsa, the rugged fellow tipped his hat. “Evening, Mrs Dalton.”
“Good evening, Jarvis.”
