Page 47 of Bride By Mistake
“Just after dawn,señor.” The woman faltered at his expression and twisted her apron between worried fingers. “I hope we did no wrong,señor. She said to let you sleep, that you knew where she was going.”
“I do indeed,” Luke growled. Valle blasted Verde.
“I did think it was odd, so young a lady traveling alone without guards or duenna, and dressed the way she was, but…” She shrugged. “The English are different from us.” She crossed herself in thankfulness.
“Have my horse brought around,” he snapped. He took the stairs to his room three at a time and shoved open her door, just to check that the story was true. Empty. The bed was pulled up tidily, and a folded scrap of paper lay in the center of it. He snatched it up.
Dear Lord Ripton—
Dammit, how many times did he have to tell her to call him Luke?
I apologize for leaving you like this. Please believe that I have every intention of honoring my marriage vows—
Luke snorted.
—but as I have told you repeatedly, I have a duty to my half sister, just as you feel you must keep your promise to your sister, Molly. I go now to Valle Verde to do what I must. After that I will join you in London.
How the hell did she imagine she was going to manage that? She had no money that he knew of.
Please do not worry about me. My father taught me how to live off the land and survive in the mountains, as the peasants do.Yours truly, your obedient
—no, she’d crossed out “obedient”; she had that right, at least—
wife, Isabella Ripton.
Luke crushed the note in his fist.
Live off the land as the peasants do? Over his dead body.
He grabbed his portmanteau—thank God it was already packed—and stormed back downstairs. She had three hours on him, but his horse was faster and stronger, and with luck he’d catch her up before the end of the day.
He slammed down a small pile of coins to pay for their accommodations and flung open the front door. And stopped dead.
Half the village seemed to have accompanied the groom that had brought his horse around. They stood waiting, grinning, nudging each other, and watching him for all the world as if he were the circus come to town.
And then he saw why and swore.
Damn her, damn her, damn her! The cunning little vixen!
“Fetch me another saddle,” he snapped.
The groom grinned. “Nothing else in the village,señor. No other saddle, no other horse, only donkeys.” A chorus of happy agreement from the villagers. “Only donkeys.”
Luke swore again, long and bitterly.
The chorus of comments that followed all agreed that it was wonderful to hear an Englishman with such excellent command of Spanish, even if hisAndalusianaccent was unfortunate.
He tossed his portmanteau to the grinning groom to tie on, then realized that mounting this horse was not going to be as simple as it usually was. And that everyone was waiting to see him struggle to do it alone. “All right then,” he growled. “Which one of you bastards is going to boost me up?”
There was a press of bodies as his rustic audience scuffled and shoved, each villager wanting to be the one to boost the English milord into the lady’s sidesaddle.
Legs tucked neatly in front of him, Luke rode off in pursuit of his wife with as much dignity as he could muster.
Which was none at all.
He was followed by a tribe of hooting urchins, with cheers and laughter coming from the watching villagers.
He’d strangle the wench when he caught up with her.
