“But why, Maddie? That is madness.”
“He might hurt Pearl if I don’t go back. And I can’t draw you into this. Those men won’t hurt me once my uncle gets his wish.”
“Won’t they?” Hart swallowed his anger at her uncle and modulated his voice. “What if I fetch Pearl and bring her to the cottage?”
She stared at him, obviously tempted. “No. I can’t let you. It would be stealing.”
“Isn’t Pearl your horse?”
“Yes…but…”
“I’ll get the mare. Henry will assist me.”
Relief fought with apprehension on her face. “Oh, Hart, you make it so hard for me to say no.”
“Then say yes.”
“What if those men see you? They will try to hurt you.” She put a hand to her mouth. “They would kill you given the chance.”
“You saw how I dealt with them.”
A half smile lifted her lips, reminding him of how pretty she was. “Yes, but still…”
“Ye of little faith,” he said bracingly. “Fetch Jane. We are wasting daylight. As it is, we will have to put up for the night at an inn somewhere along the road.”
After she thought for a moment, the struggle evident on her face, she nodded. “I shan’t tell the housekeeper about the cottage. Only that you are assisting me. I’ll write to my aunt as soon as I can to explain.”
When Maddie and Jane appeared on the steps with their luggage, he stowed it in the curricle and ushered them onto the seat.
Before he left Bath, Hart stopped in the town to send a letter to Vivian with his apologies. With the women crammed snugly beside him, the curricle bowled along the road toward Guilford. While greatly relieved at having Maddie safe, he was uneasy about the state of the cottage. It might have fallen down for all he knew. He’d been a neglectful landlord. Was this the best answer? He should consult his solicitor, but feared the law would be on Wakeham’s side, and he’d be forced to hand Maddie over to him. As things stood, Wakeham’s men didn’t know him. He’d acted swiftly to deal with them, catching them unawares, so their description of him would be unreliable. He doubted Wakeham would suspect him, and when he fetched Pearl, he trusted Henry to remain silent.
They spent a night at an inn. After dinner, Maddie and Jane left Hart alone and retired to their room, as their start tomorrow would be early. When a fellow guest invited him to play a game of cards, he accepted, glad of the distraction.
Night was drawing in when they reached the village high street where there was a bakery, a food store, and a haberdashery. Hart stopped and left the curricle to purchase a few necessities, and they drove down the lane, stopping before a sign for Lilybrook Cottage. Hart drove along a pot-holed driveway through crowded, neglected gardens, a riot of spring color, and waist-high grass, and pulled up before the dwelling. In the gloom, it looked abandoned, with weeds growing in the thatched roof, shutters closed over the windows, the walls in need of paint. It was very much run down externally, at least. He hoped the interior would be in better condition.
They left the curricle, and as if to emphasize Hart’s growing concern, a cool breeze sprung up. An enormous chestnut tree overshadowed the roof. Hart put the box of food, candles, and cleaning supplies down at the door and tried the handle, wondering if the last tenant had locked it. The door creaked open.
“That’s in need of some oil,” he said unnecessarily. “We can keep these candles spare if we find some.” The tiny hall led into a snug parlor. “Ahh, yes.” Hart went to the fireplace. He lit the candle in the candelabra on the mantel and added two more from the box. The room, now bathed in a soft candlelight, exposed cobwebs in the corners of the low-beamed ceiling, and dust thick on the sofa and tables.
Jane sneezed.
“It is charming,” Maddie said, rather hastily, he thought. She came over to the inglenook fireplace. “We can light a fire in the hearth.”
“A lick of elbow grease will put it to rights.” While he wished to reassure them, his voice lacked enthusiasm. What was he thinking of bringing them here?
But apparently, the women were undaunted.
Jane explored the other rooms. “There’s wood stacked outside the back door,” she called. “I can light the kitchen stove.”
Hart went outside and carried in the logs. When he tried the pump near the backdoor, the rusty water soon cleared. Ridiculous that the sight of it heartened him.
Maddie busily removed items from the box. “Good, you bought tea.” She checked the pantry and found a teapot. “Once we have the stove lit, we can make some tea and heat water for washing.”
Jane began to fill the stove with wood while Maddie took out plates and cups. “There’s bread and cheese, potted beef and lamb’s lettuce, gooseberry tart and strawberry jam. That will do us for several days.”
Hart could do with a decent meal, and he imagined they could too. “Shall we dine at the village inn?” he asked. “I’ll stay the night there and rest the horses.” He waved his hand to encompass the dusty room. “Leave this for now.”
With the smell of burning wood, the stove lit, and welcome heat radiated into the parlor. Maddie, on her knees, encouraged the flames in the inglenook to blaze into life.