Page 44 of Two of a Kind
“Which granddaughter?”
“Leah.”
Sir Geoffrey looked behind James, his eyes full of mistrust. “I don’t see her. Nor did you leave her with your horse. What have you done with my granddaughter?”
James summoned up his courage. “If you could please stop pointing your pistol at me, we might be able to discuss this a little more civilly.”
The loaded pistol remained pointed at him. “I shall be the judge of what is civil and what is not,” said Sir Geoffrey.
James sighed. “I have her hidden someone safe. She fled London to avoid being married off to someone she did not wish to wed. I was the best man for the wedding and accompanied her here. I was trying to ascertain as to whether her father or the jilted groom were waiting for her at your home.”
A soft chuckle carried to him on the wind, and to his immense relief, the second pistol was lowered and un-cocked.
“I don’t think you can still call yourself the best man if you have stolen the bride.”
James’s brain was too frazzled with fear to laugh at the obvious jest.
“So, what you are trying to tell me is that you intend to deliver my granddaughter to me. And you, being a sensible young manandthe son of the Bishop of London, decided to do a quick sortie of the area surrounding my home just in case that arse wipe Tobias Shepherd had beaten you here.”
James nodded. “In a nutshell, yes.”
“Well then, you had better come with me and we shall go and collect Leah.”
“How was I to know he was a decent young chap? He was hiding in the bushes over yonder. He should be grateful I didn’t shoot him on sight. The shot I let off was aimed wide; he has nothing to grumble about.”
Leah peered out the window of her grandfather’s study and gave James, who was sitting outside in the garden, a look of pity. Poor James. It had taken several hours for the color to return to his face after the incident with her grandfather.
James, fortunately, had recovered his humor, and after retrieving both the carriage and Leah from the village inn, he was now sitting in the afternoon sunshine, enjoying a second glass of spirit-restoring French burgundy. Leah had already apologized a half dozen times for her grandfather’s gun-wielding greeting. And while he had accepted each one of her apologies with good grace, she still felt terrible over the thought that not only had two pistols been pointed at him, but one had actually been fired.
James took a sip of his wine before setting the glass down. He had retrieved one of his sketchbooks from his travel trunk and was now patiently drawing an outline of the low rock wall which ran along the edge of the garden.
With his jacket lying on a nearby chair and his shirtsleeves rolled up, she was granted the sight of his strong muscular arms. The pencil held in his long fingers moved over the paper with comfortable ease. James was in his element.
There was an odd sense of sadness in them having reached their destination. The days spent on the road with James had seen her come to view him in a new light. In her mind, he had confirmed himself as a kind and decent man. What the sight of him now did to her body was an entirely different matter.
An aching desire for him stirred within her.
Sir Geoffrey came and stood by her side at the window. She smiled at him, relieved that after weeks of planning and an at times frightening flight from London, she was now here at Mopus Manor. When the knock had eventually come at the door of their room at the inn, it had startled her. Her heart was all aflutter when she’d heard Sir Geoffrey’s voice on the other side of the locked door.
Tonight, she would be able to lay her head on a pillow and hopefully not wake in the middle of the night fearing that her father was downstairs talking to the owner of whatever inn they were staying at and inquiring about a young woman traveler.
“Your James is a good man,” said Sir Geoffrey.
Leah found herself not wishing to correct her grandfather’s take on the current state of hers and James’s relationship. “I am grateful for everything he has done. He has gone beyond the call in helping me to reach you safely.”
“You know your father won’t let this matter rest. If he doesn’t come here himself, he will write and demand that I give you up if I am harboring you,” he said.
“Yes. I expect it will only be a matter of time before his gaze turns this way,” she replied.
The trail of breadcrumbs she had left behind in London pointed to her fleeing to another part of the country, but her father was no fool. Once he had exhausted the obvious places that she could be, his attention would no doubt focus on Mopus Manor.
“We shall deal with your father when the time comes. But what are you going to do about that young man? I expect he has burned a few bridges in bringing you here,” he said.
James was a very large question in Leah’s mind. Helping her to escape from marrying Guy Dannon would likely have cost him that once close friendship. There was also the question of his career as a painter. As far as she was concerned, being her hero had already cost James more than enough.
“He was headed to Derbyshire before he found himself following me out of London. His father has given him six months to create a series of artworks and sell them. I expect he will be keen to resume that journey now that I am here,” she replied.
Sir Geoffrey slowly shook his head. “I have seen the way he looks at you. And I think you and I both know that he will not be going anywhere anytime soon.”
