Page 92 of The Truth About Lord Stoneville
Unfortunately, Freddy’s revelation prompted Mr. Pinter to ask her yet again about the special license. When she made it clear she didn’t want to discuss Oliver further, the conversation dwindled into nothing.
Mr. Pinter probably considered her a fool for trying to protect a man of Oliver’s lofty station. She didn’t care. Every time she thought of Oliver suffering all those years over the manner of his parents’ deaths, it broke her heart.
By the time they reached Southampton, it was twoa.m.Much as she wanted to march right over to Nathan’s lodgings, Mr. Pinter advised against it, saying she needed rest before confronting her fiancé. He did have a point; she’d never been so tired in all her life.
Fortunately, one of the coaching inns still had empty rooms, so Mr. Pinter was able to take one for her and one for him and Freddy. Before she parted with them, she drew Mr. Pinter aside and instructed him to leave Freddy sleeping in the morning and to awaken her early. She wasn’t about to let Freddy and his sword go with them to see Nathan.
Then Maria went to her room, where she fell onto the bed and into a dreamless sleep without even bothering to take off her clothes.
When a knock at the stout oak door awakened her, it seemed like only moments had passed. But the dull gray of impending dawn and the bitter chill of the room now that the fire had died down proved that not to be the case.
“Miss Butterfield?” said Mr. Pinter through the door.“You said that you wished to be roused by seven. I’ve brought the maid to assist you.”
“Thank you!” she called as she dragged herself from the bed and crossed to the door in stocking feet. She opened it to let a sour-faced girl into the room, and stuck her head around the edge of the door to tell Mr. Pinter, “I’ll be downstairs shortly.”
No doubt used to attending travelers in a hurry, the inn maid briskly helped Maria change from her traveling clothes into her mourning attire. It made Maria long for her lovely new gowns, not to mention Betty and her chatty sweetness.
Stop that! At least you’re no longer living a lie. You’re back to being yourself.
But was she herself, when her heart yearned to be elsewhere? At Halstead Hall, she’d be awakening in that glorious fairy-tale bed now, waiting for Betty to bring her a pot of chocolate and some toast to nibble until she went down to breakfast with the family. They’d chat about the estate as Betty helped her dress before the roaring fire. She’d be looking forward to seeing Oliver—
Ohh, it was no use. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. But shehadto keep her mind focused on what she would say to the traitorous Nathan when she saw him.
She left the room, then hastened her steps as she heard a ruckus downstairs. Oh, mercy—Freddy was awake.
“I’m going with you,” he was saying to Mr. Pinter. “I see you trying to sneak out without me.”
“Nonsense,” Maria said as she reached them. “Mr. Pinterand I still need to discuss a few matters about Nathan. Since we haven’t had breakfast, I was about to awaken you so you could get some kidney pies for us from that shop we saw on the edge of town as we came in.”
Freddy’s face lit up at the promise of pies. Then his eyes narrowed. “Why aren’t we eating breakfast here?”
Thankful that no one was around to hear her, she said, “The breakfast at this inn is very costly, isn’t it, Mr. Pinter?”
“Yes, very costly,” he said dryly.
“I figured that we should save money where we can.” She fished a few coins from the meager store in her reticule and gave her cousin her most winsome smile. “So if you’d be a dear and fetch us some kidney pies, it would be perfect.”
He looked wary, but kidney pies were his favorite. “Oh, all right,” he grumbled. “But I’ll be back directly. Don’t go anywhere without me.”
“Of course not.”
As soon as he was out of sight, she urged Mr. Pinter out the door and toward the lodging house that thankfully lay in the opposite direction. Since Freddy had no idea where it was, her ploy should keep him and his sword safely away.
When they arrived at the neat little cruckwork cottage, Mr. Pinter asked to see Mr. Hyatt. The owner went to fetch him, leaving them in a country parlor with cupboards displaying pretty crockery.
As they waited, Maria moved so that she stood out of sight of the door, over by the window and away from Mr. Pinter. She wanted to catch Nathan unawares.
When he entered, however, he caughtherunawares. Nathan looked like an entirely different person as he strode toward Mr. Pinter. He’d grown his side-whiskers down almost to his chin, and his hair fell in loose curls instead of the straight blond mop it usually was. Had he begun curling his hair?
And his clothes! He’d always been dismissive of fashion, having grown up resenting his father’s emphasis on it. Yet here he stood, dressed in fine attire that would outshine even that of the Sharpe brothers.
Seeing him looking so well, behaving as if nothing were amiss, brought an anger roaring up inside her that threatened to incinerate everything around her.
And hestillhad not noticed her standing there, the oblivious wretch!
“May I help you, sir?” Nathan asked Mr. Pinter in the cool tone of a man of business.
That was the last straw. Before Mr. Pinter could answer, she said, “Good morning, Nathan.”
