Page 79 of The Matrimonial Advertisement

Justin fell silent for a moment. His expression was solemn, his gray gaze holding hers with greater than usual intensity. “What changed your mind?”

“When I hear how thoroughly you’ve persevered, how brave you’ve been, it makes me feel brave, too. I’m not brave, though, am I? I’m scared to death of going back. But I’ll do it. Only…I’ll probably cling on your arm even worse than I did when we were riding on Hiran.”

He took her hand in his, engulfing it in the strong clasp of his fingers. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as he raised it to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

“What was that for?” she asked.

“For trusting me. In spite of it all.”

She pressed his hand. “I do trust you, Justin. With all my heart.”

Over the next two days, as the roads dried out, preparations for their journey to London began in earnest. Financial arrangements were made, clothes were laundered and packed, and Boothroyd and Neville were both given instructions on managing things in Justin’s absence.

The morning of their departure, Danvers brought the carriage round to the front of the Abbey. “We’ll drive to the railway station in Abbot’s Holcombe,” Justin explained as he handed Helena up into the cab. He climbed in after her, settling in the opposite seat. “It’s a shorter distance than driving all the way to Barnstaple.”

Helena looked out the window. She didn’t appear to be fully attending what he was saying. Her face was pale, her gloved hands twisted together in her lap.

Danvers gave the horses the office to start. The antiquated carriage rolled forward with a shudder.

“We can wire Finchley to let him know we’re on our way,” Justin went on. “No doubt he’s already found us a house to let for the duration of our stay.”

“Was he that certain I would agree to come?”

“Finchley always plans for every eventuality. He’s much like Boothroyd in that respect.”

Helena fell quiet for a moment. Her expression was shadowed. “A house in a fashionable street will be expensive. And we don’t yet know if the bank will release any of my funds.”

“Let me worry about expenses.”

She gave him a pained glance. “There will be so many of them.”

Justin well knew it. Boothroyd had been subtly reminding him of that fact for the past several days. “It doesn’t signify. Finchley and I have everything well in hand.”

Or so Justin hoped.

He knew precious little about fashionable society. He knew even less about the law. In truth, he half expected a dozen of the earl’s solicitors to greet them on their arrival in London and produce legal documents that not only dissolved his marriage to Helena, but gave them the authority to take her away. He could too easily imagine what it would feel like to stand there watching, powerless to help her.

He’d been in that position before.

But this wasn’t Cawnpore. It was England. And Finchley did know the law. He was confident in the plan he’d proposed. Boothroyd had given the plan his vote of approval as well. All Justin had to do was execute it. What could possibly go wrong?

Everything, he thought grimly.

But it wouldn’t do to dwell on worst-case scenarios. Not when Helena’s nerves were already taut as a bowstring.

He made an effort to turn the conversation to more trivial topics, keeping up a constant—and quite uncharacteristic—patter until they arrived at the station in Abbot’s Holcombe.

After disembarking from the carriage, they stopped at the booking office to purchase two first-class tickets. True to her word, Helena clung fast to his arm. She was frightened and trying hard not to show it.

“We’ve a half hour until the train arrives,” Justin said. “Would you like to stop at the bookstall? They have penny novels. You could get one for the journey.”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t read a word. I’m far too nervous.”

He covered her gloved hand with his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

The train arrived at ten past eleven in a cacophony of screeching metal, smoke, and steam. A crowd of passengers disembarked, ladies and gentleman of every description rushing this way and that. It was nowhere near as crowded as King’s Cross or Waterloo Station in London, but it was far busier than Justin had anticipated. For once, he was grateful for his imposing height. He easily caught the attention of one of the porters and summoned him to load their luggage onto the train.

“That’s our carriage, just there,” he murmured to Helena. “We can board in a moment. You’ll feel more at ease when we’ve taken our seats.”