Page 75 of The Gentlewoman Author

She explained her interest in his landau.

He eyed her, not with disapproval exactly, but curiosity. Her request was unusual. Women did not involve themselves in these sorts of things.

“Come along, then.” She followed him out to the stable, where he yelled, “Horace. Here’s a lady come about the landau.”

Horace emerged, a bit of straw protruding from his grey beard. “A lady? Well, let’s get to it, then.”

Inside the carriage house, the groom presented the landau with a flourishing arm. It was very pretty, with a high sheen and tasteful embellishments in red and gold that made the otherwise unremarkable black carriage something special. The interior boasted tufted burgundy leather seats. It was beautiful, but Mary had no idea what she was looking at. Carriages had wheels, and horses pulled them. Some were ornamented, others were not. Well, this one looked fine. She would take it. Besides, it was nearing noon, and she did not wish to keep Daniel waiting.

“Let’s go into the house and take refreshment while we discuss the carriage,” said Mr. Patterson.

Thank goodness, for her stomach was growling.

After deliberating over the weather, the church spire, and Mary’s lack of familiarity with the area, Mr. Patterson asked, “How is it you have come for a carriage? Pardon my impertinence, but should not your husband be here?”

“I am a widow.”

Understanding softened his eyes and he seemed to shrink. He nodded. “I am sorry. My wife passed a year ago, and I feel it every moment.”

They shared a long, sympathetic look.

Mr. Patterson took a shaky breath and returned to the matter at hand, saying he would be pleased to sell her his carriage.

Now they arrived at the real problem. Mary had not secured the funds, because it would require writing to her steward in Ireland. The process could take weeks.

“I have a particular desire to take the landau today. However, I have yet to send word to my man of business.”

Mr. Patterson’s mouth, so compassionate a moment before, reshaped into a hard line. “I am not a charity.” He looked at the clock. “Come back when everything is in order.”

“It is not the lack of funds, only that it will take some weeks to access them. My property is in Ireland.” Mr. Patterson quirked his brow, and Mary could not tell if he was interested or incredulous. “I have something of great value to leave as security.” With shaking fingers, Mary touched her locket. It was large enough to fill her hand and hung on a thick gold chain. Embellished with diamonds, seed pearls and gold trimmings, it spoke for itself. She reached around her neck, unlatched it, and removed the accessory she’d scarcely taken off since Lord Allen had placed it around her neck.

He took it from her outstretched hand, rolled it over in his own, and pushed the latch that opened the locket. Lord Allen was inside.

“Your late husband?”

Mary nodded.

“My wife.” He gestured to a portrait that sat in a place of honor between two windows.

“She was lovely.”

“I will put this somewhere safe and let you borrow a pair of horses.”

Mary melted in relief and gratitude, and clasped his hand.

Mary pulled the horses to a stop in front of the inn and searched the bustling street. A boy of about nine ambled by. “Hello, there. You, young man,” she called to him.

He approached and lifted his hat at her.

“Go inside the inn and tell Mr. Fletcher to come out right away, but do not tell him anything else.” She handed him a farthing, and he disappeared into the inn.

Mary’s heart jumped at the sight of Daniel striding out of the inn. He looked around, his eyes skipping over the landau.

“Daniel!” She waved at him.

He met her gaze and paused there, that familiar, adoring smile lifting the corner of his mouth. Those blue eyes captured her and sent her spirits soaring. Was this real? Could she own such happiness? He approached and grabbed her ankle, then hoisted himself beside her. “When you weren’t here, I worried. I missed you.”

“Trust that I will always return for you.”

He traced her lips with his thumb, cupping her chin.

“Do not tease me like that,” she said. “Kiss me.”

“We are on display for the entire town.”

She reached for his face and pulled him to her. There was no resistance. He gave, and she received. She gave, and he received. His mouth promised a lifetime of acceptance, a shelter where she could be her honest self and expect the same.

“What is this?” He gestured at the carriage.

“Your first landau did not make it to Gretna Green, but I am determined this one will.”