enquiringly to watch his progress along the passageway, and he breathed in the familiar, calming smell of horses, leather and hay, pausing to pat one or two gleaming rumps as he passed.
A groom’s head popped out from the end stall. ‘Morning, sir,’ he called. ‘Was you going out?’
‘Yes.’ The question spurred him into a decision. ‘Saddle the bay, will you, Tom?’
A long, fast ride would do him the power of good. It would douse both his temper and his lust and, hopefully, blast away the confusion that had beset him ever since Harriet had reappeared in his life. He swept his hand through his hair, realising he had lost his hat somewhere. No matter—his appearance would make no difference where he was going.
* * *
It was dark before Benedict returned to Tenterfield Court, weary and slightly foxed after an afternoon spent in the Crossways Inn in the village. He left his horse at the stables and walked towards the house, conscious that his steps were beginning to lag. He entered through a side door and met Cooper, the footman, in the passage. He must ask. He had no wish to bump into her unprepared.
‘Where is she?’ Hellfire! That didn’t come out as he intended. ‘Lady Brierley,’ he added. ‘I’m late. Has she eaten?’ It was past the customary time for dinner in the country. With any luck she had already gone upstairs, as keen as him to avoid another encounter.
Cooper frowned. ‘She’s gone, sir. Lord Brierley came and took her off in his carriage.’
Benedict felt himself sway. Must’ve drunk more than I realised. He inched closer to the wall and propped his shoulders against it.
‘When?’
‘Soon after her ladyship came back from her walk, sir. His lordship was already here. He’d had her bags packed all ready, and been up to see Sir Malcolm and then, when her ladyship arrived, he dragged her off to his carriage.’
Dragged? The image unsettled him, but it also raised a hope he didn’t want to feel. ‘Lady Brierley didn’t want to leave?’
‘No, sir. First she said she wouldn’t leave without her maid...’
Ah, of course. Her maid. Janet. She was the cause of Harriet’s reluctance. Stupid to imagine it could be anything else. Benedict shook his head, trying to clear it and order his thoughts.
‘And then,’ Cooper continued, clearly relishing being the one to tell him the story, ‘his lordship said Janet must go, too, and the doctor was here and he said as how she shouldn’t really be moved, and his lordship said he wouldn’t leave her here in this den of...den of...something...’
Iniquity, Benedict thought, his head reeling as his temples began to throb.
‘...so we had to carry Janet downstairs and prop up her leg on cushions and all the while his lordship was looking like thunder—’
‘Had he come to visit Sir Malcolm?’
‘No, sir, but he did go up and pay his respects. He said something about a letter, sir, and more scandal, sir. Just like that. More scandal!’ Cooper paused for breath.
‘And her ladyship was happy to go?’
‘Well, yes and no, I should say, sir.’
Benedict bit down the urge to bark, Get on with it, man. ‘I’m waiting, Cooper.’
‘Well, she seemed happy enough to go, but she wanted to go back to London, she said. Only his lordship wouldn’t budge, even when her ladyship pleaded with him. He said as how she was to come home with him and explain herself properly if she knew what was good for her.’
What was good for her? She’s his stepmother, for God’s sake. What the blazes did he mean by that?
‘And then he said as how he would stop her allowance if she didn’t do what he said.’
‘And so she went with him?’
‘Yes, sir. But she wasn’t happy.’
Benedict told himself it was for the best. He told himself it was a relief, but then why did his throat ache and why had his stomach twisted into knots?
‘Thank you, Cooper. That will be all.’
Benedict levered himself away from the wall and headed towards the back stairs on decidedly unsteady legs.
‘Please inform Sir Malcolm I am unwell and unable to pay him my usual visit. I am going to bed.’ He flung the words over his shoulder at the footman.
‘Her ladyship found your hat, sir.’ Cooper’s words floated up the back stairs after Benedict. ‘Mr Crabtree brushed it and put it away.’
His hat! A vague memory surfaced of Harriet dislodging it during that kiss. Benedict stumbled as he reached the top of the stairs and turned in the direction of his bedchamber. He cursed under his breath, praying he would not meet any other servants in his current state.
Never again would he touch the ale at the Crossways. It was clearly tainted.
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