Page 16 of A Lady's Heart Deceived
With her bag packed, and dressed warmly for the trip, she slipped out of Strathmore House and into one of the Duke of Strathmore’s town carriages. It was a short walk to Park Place from Park Lane, but her luggage was heavy.
With the sun yet to peek over the horizon, the streets were still dark. At this hour of the day, it wasn’t safe for a woman to be walking anywhere on her own, even in the streets of St. James’s parish. Footpads didn’t care who they assaulted, and a well-dressed lady of quality would be the perfect target for opportunistic thieves.
As the carriage drew up out the front of number nine Park Place a short while later, Maggie sat forward on the carriage bench and peered out the window.
Denford House was an unobtrusive red brick building, rising over four floors. Its two, triple-windowed, cream-brick bays barely extended out into the street. There were minimal decorative features above the bays—two small scrolls and what she surmised was the Denford family coat of arms. Even the front door was plain, unadorned. A passerby could easily have walked past the house and barely noted its existence.
If the architect of Denford House had been seeking to project a look of ‘nothing to see here,’ he had well and truly achieved, it. The house wasn’t dull, but it certainly didn’t catch the eye.
Stepping onto the pavement, she glanced up. The sun had just sneaked above the horizon and the first faint light of day kissed the windows.
“Should we wait for you, Miss Radley?” asked the footman.
Maggie shook her head. “No, thank you. I am expected. I shall take it from here.”
She was determined to burn all her bridges before knocking on the front door. If the captain saw a carriage waiting out in the street, he may well just bundle her back into it and send her on her way.
I am going to Coventry today, whether he likes it or not.
While she waited for the carriage to turn left into St. James’s Street and disappear from view, Maggie rehearsed the important parts of her speech.
I know a few things about Robert that might help. It would be impolite of me not to accompany you since I was his fiancée. His family would appreciate meeting me. I must do this.
“And I have to find some answers before I can finally accept that he is gone,” she muttered.
That last part she didn’t intend to give voice to, but over the past few weeks, the notion had taken a firm hold in her mind.
Picking up her bag, Maggie strode up the short set of steps to the front door and rapped loudly on the knocker.
Piers was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he walked into his mother’s formal sitting room. He had been enjoying a lovely dream about laying out under the night sky at Denford Park, stargazing, when a knock at his bedroom door had rudely awakened him.
“There is a Miss Margaret Radley here to see you, sir.”
What the devil?
He’d squinted at the clock on the mantel, twice checking to make sure it really read a minute or so past the hour of seven. No one paid a house call at this hour of the day, let alone a young, gently bred woman. Things had to be serious.
Don’t tell me she has changed her mind and informed the war office my trip is no longer required. Major Hall will have a field day.
Piers was desperate to get out of London. If he was going to stay sane, he badly needed a respite from the seemingly endless days of dealing with letters and the abuse of his odious commanding officer.
It was a hurried struggle to get dressed in his half-awake fog, and a good ten minutes before he was in any sort of state to finally leave his bedroom and go to receive his visitor.
At the door to the sitting room, he buttoned up his jacket and pushed back his shoulders.
“Miss Radley, do you have any idea of the time?” he said. With no breakfast, or even a cup of tea in his belly, Piers wasn’t capable of finding his manners. He ought to be ashamed of himself. His mother most certainly would have been if she could hear the way he was receiving a guest in her favorite room of the Denford family townhouse.
Margaret Radley stood facing the window. As she turned, she threw back the hood of her long dark cloak, revealing her mane of jet-black hair and soft smile. Piers’s gaze immediately settled on her ruby-red lips. The rest of his body leapt to attention, leaving him to hurriedly check that he had indeed buttoned up his jacket and that it covered the top of his trousers.
“Good morning, Captain Denford. And yes, I am well aware of the time. I have been up for several hours making ready for the journey. I expect I shall sleep well tonight.”
Journey?
“I am sorry, Miss Radley; you have me at a loss. My brain doesn’t function very well until after I have had breakfast. You must forgive me when I ask to what journey are you referring?”
As she crossed the floor, Piers wasn’t entirely sure whether she walked or floated. Miss Margaret Radley had the oddest of effects on him.
“Why Coventry, of course.” She pointed to a large gentleman’s travel bag which sat on the floor. “I am packed and ready to leave. The coach departs just before eight o’clock, so you might want to hurry along and finish dressing. Unfortunately, I don’t think you will have time for breakfast, but I understand the coaching inns along the way do serve hot food. You could get something when we stop to change the horses.”
