Page 23 of The Bachelor
A chill ran down Joshua’s spine. It seemed unlikely. Who would wish to killhim, for instance? Then again, who would have thought that the third and fourth Dukes of Armitage would die within months of each other, both of them murdered, according to Sheridan?
By the time they reached the outskirts of London, it became clear that whatever the villain had been planning had not come to fruition. So, for now, Joshua wasn’t going to be able to thwart the fellow. He could only hope he got another chance to do so in the City. Because he did not like the idea of Gwyn and her family being vulnerable to attack.
As they pushed farther into the City proper, Joshua began to relax. What’s more, he realized that London had changed a great deal in the decade or more since he had last come here. It had grown filthier, but that was to be expected as it grew. Yet there were more exciting developments, like the gas lighting on Pall Mall, which he’d heard about but hadn’t witnessed.
And the area of Mayfair, which Park Lane skirted, had become very built up with elegant mansions. They soon pulled into a semicircular drive in front of one such mansion, which Peabody informed Joshua was called Thorncliff. It, of course, belonged to the dukedom of Thornstock.
“It’s grand, ain’t it?” the coachman said with obvious pride. “His Grace oversaw the renovation of it himself. Before that, it wasn’t near so grand.”
Joshua gazed up at the sumptuous marble and Palladian architecture and felt his stomach drop. “Grand” didn’t begin to describe it. Magnificent, perhaps. Palatial even. What it wasnotwas the home of a man who would let his sister marry the likes of a lame Royal Marine with a tendency to explode into anger for little cause.
Not that Joshua hadn’t already realized he was beneath Gwyn, but this . . . He could never belong in such a place. He could never belong withher.
Thornstock climbed out of the carriage. “You might as well take my spot inside, Wolfe,” the duke said cheerily to Joshua. “Peabody is carrying the three of you to Armitage House farther south.”
Joshua declined the offer. He wasn’t about to climb down from the perch while Thornstock looked on. He still hadsomepride, damn it. But as Peabody pulled the carriage around, it belatedly dawned on Joshua that now he would have to climb down whileGwynlooked on. And that would be even worse.
He turned to Peabody. “How far are we from Armitage House?”
“Once we round Hyde Park on that corner up ahead, it’s about a mile straight down that side of the park.”
Joshua glanced back, relieved to see that Thornstock had already gone inside. “If you don’t mind, sir, would you pull over and let me down? I need to stretch my legs some before I reach the place.”
“Of course, Major. I understand.”
Since it took Joshua a few minutes to disembark using his cane, his aunt and Gwyn were already poking their heads out of the carriage once he reached the street.
“What’s wrong?” his aunt asked.
“Nothing,” he said genially. “I just thought I’d walk the rest of the way.”
“I’ll come with you,” Gwyn said, and before he could even dissuade her, she had called for the footman on the back perch to put down the step so she could climb out. “We’ll be there shortly after you, Mama,” she said, and then waved as the carriage started off again.
“I could use a bit of exercise myself,” she said as she joined him. “As soon as we’re inside, Mama will want to go right into unpacking, and then we’ll head down for dinner, and I will lose my chance to talk to you privately.”
Damn. Private conversations with her never went particularly well. “Talk to me about what?”
“You know. Our lessons.”
He gave her a blank look.
“Ourshootinglessons. I wanted to know when they would commence.”
“After what happened yesterday in the streets of Cambridge, you still want to learn to shoot?”
“Well. Yes.” Then a frown knit her brow. “I mean, not if it will . . . not if you will . . . you know, have trouble with it.”
He had half a mind to lie and tell her that teaching her would be too upsetting for him, but the idea of her thinking of him as a half-mad soldier or milksop society fellow who couldn’t endure the sound of a pistol didn’t sit well.
Besides, he’d already made a plan for dealing with her “lessons.” Better to continue on the way he’d started than to chance her looking for someoneelseto teach her, some tall and handsome marquess or duke who didn’t have a hair-trigger temper and wasn’t on half-pay.
That train of thought alarmed him. It implied jealousy, which he surely wasn’t foolish enough to feel. “I won’t have trouble with it. If I know to expect the noise, it’s not a problem.”
She released a long breath. “Then I hope we can start tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Damn it all, he would have to shift his plans.
“Well, yes. Beatrice and I are to be presented at court in a couple of days, and once that happens, a steady string of social events will follow—fêtes and balls and musicales and such. I won’t have time then.”
