Page 70 of What a Widow Wants

“Lucifer? What happened to Spartan?”

“That is a long story”—he paused to entangle them—“one that will perhaps keep until I get you both to an inn with a soft bed.”

They drew near to the barn and Fanny balked. “Are they . . . are the ruffians . . . dead?”

With a sharp laugh, Matthew shook his head. “I decided not to soil my hands with their blood. Well, with more of their blood. The two inside will find it hard to eat anything more substantial than a coddled egg for a month.”

That got Fanny to giggling, releasing the tension that had wound itself tightly around her since Davies had put them out of the carriage hours ago. Her shoulders sagged and she put out a hand to grab Matthew’s arm to steady herself. The warmth of his body seeped into hers at an astounding rate. So much the better. She suspected she would never be warm enough after today unless Matthew held her.

He led them to a huge black horse, tethered to a bush. The animal snorted at their approach. “Easy, Lucifer.” Matthew set the lantern down and patted the arched neck. “This grand fellow is as much your hero as I. He should be called Pegasus as far as I’m concerned. Brought me here faster than I’d ever dreamed.”

“Where did you get him?” Fanny looked askance at the enormous animal, snorting and prancing. Lucifer seemed rather an apt name at that.

“At the Duke of Gloucester in Mickleham. Spartan was spent by the time I got there. I plan to buy him off the inn when we return, no matter the cost. Here, darling,” he said, standing Ella on the ground, “let me put your mother on the horse then I’ll hand you up to her.”

The child whimpered and threw herself at Fanny, sobbing. “Mama.”

“It’s all right, lovey. Lord Lathbury won’t leave us for a second.” Fanny hated to leave the girl’s grip, but she had to mount if they were ever to leave this godforsaken place.

“Have you ever rode pillion?” Matthew asked, running his hand over the rump of the horse.

“Perhaps once or twice. Why? Do you plan for all of us to ride?” That raised her eyebrows.

“The child’s weight is negligible. And we will go only at a walk. It’s some five or six miles back to the Chequers and we need to get you two out of this cold as quickly as possible. If I walk and lead the horse, it will take several hours. Ella, watch how your mother is going to sit right behind the saddle here.”

Matthew put his hands around her waist, and she reveled in his touch once more. Never did she ever want him to let go. The night was growing colder, however, and he quickly hoisted her up behind the saddle. Perched on the rump of the horse, she settled herself as best she could.

“Now your turn, my dear.” He scooped Ella up, bringing forth a shriek, and deposited her before the saddle. “Hold his mane, Ella.” He closed her hand over a handful of the horse’s hair. “I’ll sit up behind you and hold you the whole way.” Swiftly he retrieved the lantern, blew it out, and tossed it back on the ground before grabbing the reins and mounting behind Ella.

The horse stamped impatiently, but otherwise seemed not to be distressed by his full load. A hero indeed.

With a slight nudge of his heel, Matthew started them off.

Fanny grasped him around the waist to steady herself, and although she quickly became accustomed to the horse’s swaying gait, she kept her arms around her love, glorying in his presence. She leaned her head against the small of his back. “Did you receive my letter this morning?”

“Actually, no.”

Startled, she sat up. “Then how are you come here?”

“It’s a bit of a story.”

Fanny’s horror grew as he related the tale. “He burned my letter before your eyes?”

“Quite gleeful about it, he was.” Matthew’s back shook slightly with his own mirth. “I suppose he never thought for a moment I’d find you in time. Does the marquess have some other grudge against you, my dear, or has this all been about the fact that I am Ella’s—”

“Shhh. Don’t tell her now.” She didn’t want the knowledge of her parentage to come at such a horrible time for Ella.

“Do not worry, my love. She has been asleep almost since we started.”

Satisfied, Fanny leaned her head on his comfortable back again. “Yes, I believe that information must have driven him to devise this scheme to murder us. That and . . .” She sighed. So much she’d brought on herself because of her follies. “I more or less threatened to let the news of our affair and the name of Ella’s true father come to light when he banished us from the house.”

“God, no wonder he was in such a state. He seems to be under the impression society will give a damn.”

“And they truly won’t, you think?” That fear had been instilled in her by Theale and Lavinia for years.

“Do you think we are the only couple in the ton to have done such a thing?” Matthew’s laugh moved her head up and down. “I can name you ten wives at least who have a child not of her husband’s getting.”

“I don’t believe you.”