Page 12

Chapter Five

The sun was barely up when Grant made his way back home the following morning. Unfortunately, Lucinda had not mentioned anything about the money, and he was becoming frustrated. Having spent the day before at the tailor’s and then at the barbershop where Lucinda had ordered his hair to be cut a certain way, his nails manicured, and even that he be given a precise shave, he’d been in a sour mood when arriving at the townhouse.

By the time he and Lucinda had eaten dinner, he’d drunk three glasses of whiskey and was well into his fourth. Needless to say, he barely remembered if there had been any activity once they’d gone to bed. Now, through bleary eyes, he noted a lone woman with a basket hanging from her arm, who didn’t seem to hear him approach.

“Wren?”

She whirled around and stared up at him with wide eyes, seeming disconcerted for a moment before her lips spread into a smile. “Mr. Murray. You are out and about quite early.”

“I am heading—” he was about to say “home”, but decided it was best not to infer he’d been out all night, especially at her employer’s home, or in her bed—“Out for a ride.”

If she noticed his disheveled appearance, she didn’t show it. Instead, she nodded. “A perfect morning for it, sir.”

Dismounting, he walked alongside her. “And where are you off to so early?”

The basket swayed when she held her arm out. “To the market to purchase a few items for the cook at Lady Robert’s estate. She is very picky about things and wishes for items to make a special dish.”

“Ah,” Grant was grateful for the picky cook. “I will accompany you there and give you a ride back. It is a bit of a walk.”

“Oh, do not trouble yourself, sir. It is a nice morning. I do not mind.”

He looked off into the distance. “That is quite a long walk.”

“Not much longer than our walks to the estate some mornings,” she quipped, keeping her brisk pace.

“Your aunt walks from your home and back each day?”

Wren laughed. “At times. Most mornings we ride in a wagon, with others who travel to and from the estate.”

“I insist on taking you there.” Grant wasn’t sure how he could deliver the lass without being seen, but he could not possibly allow her to walk so far.

Now he remained at a distance as Wren walked from stall to stall, purchasing what was needed. A man at one of the stands was overly cheerful when Wren approached, seeming to give her quite a bit of attention. The attention was not surprising, as she was lovely and had a welcoming personality.

When she finally walked toward him, her face was bright.

“Let us get you to work,” Grant said, taking her by the waist and hoisting her up to the horse. He then lifted the basket up to her and finally mounted, awkwardly taking the reins while avoiding the cumbersome basket.

“Goodness, this is quite high,” Wren said, peering down at the ground. She squirmed a bit, not seeming to realize that by doing so she rubbed against the area between his legs. Grant swallowed and was thankful for his hangover. His throbbing temples distracted him enough not to become aroused.

They rode for a short distance without speaking. It was enjoyable to have the lass so close. He’d never ridden like this before, with a woman between his legs. In the city, it would be frowned upon, but as they rode through the villages, life was not only simpler but also less complicated with fewer rules of etiquette and proper behavior.

Sitting sideways, Wren clutched the basket handle to her chest. “Do you often ride in the early mornings?”

Grant looked to the horizon where the sun had already risen, though it was still low in the sky. “Actually, no. I am realizing I should more often.”

“You have been drinking,” Wren stated, her tone more interested than judgmental. “My father used to like to imbibe every once in a while. He was so funny when tipsy.”

“Where is he now?”

“He, my mother, and my older sister all died from the pox.” She sighed but then chuckled softly. “Everyone in the household, except for Lily, my sister, were early risers.”

“It must have been horrible for you, to lose your family,” Grant stated. Although estranged from his father, he could not imagine losing him completely and finally.

Wren nodded and once again shifted the basket. “The worst time of my life. Sometimes I wished to have gone with them, to avoid the pain. But now, I accept what happened and know there is a reason I am still here.”

“Perhaps to brighten my day,” Grant said, without thinking. He scrambled to come up with something to add but came up blank.

“Why thank you, Mr. Murray,” Wren said, then motioned toward the estate that came into view. “I think it is best you allow me to dismount here. I do not think Lady Roberts will take kindly to seeing us together.”