Page 71 of The Untamed Heart

“Marcus?” Hawkney’s voice hailed him from outside the door. “Sorry, old man, but it’s time.”

“One bloody minute!” Marcus shouted impatiently. Not again. This time he was going to finish the bloody sentence.

“I love you,” he said, his tone rather more challenging that it ought to have been.

Eustacia laughed, her expression soft with amusement as she cupped his face with one hand. “I know that, Marcus. Come back to me, and we’ll prove it to each other for the rest of our lives.”

Marcus nodded and took a reluctant step back.

“Seb will stay with you and Mrs Wainwright and Neil. You are to keep the house locked. Do not go outside unless it’s one of us, just in case Keller doesn’t fall for it, or does something we’ve not anticipated.”

Eustacia nodded. “I know. Don’t worry about me. You look after yourself.”

Marcus gazed at her for a long moment before standing to attention. He saluted her, turned smartly, and strode from the room. It was the only way he could leave her, by falling back upon the ritual of army life. Otherwise, he’d be there forever, trying to find the right words to part from her with.

He’d said all he could for now. The rest was for the future, a future he intended to live to the full.

“You look lovely,” Sheringham said wryly as Lucius fussed with the black lace veil.

“It doesn’t fall properly,” he complained, standing in front of the mirror in the hall and twitching at it. “And it makes me want to sneeze. How do women wear these wretched things?”

“Thank your lucky stars Hawkney didn’t insist on a corset for verisimilitude. Then you’d have been sorry,” Sherry said, amused by how particular he was being. The fellow wore a cravat that appeared to have served as a dishcloth, yet he carefully arranged his black lace veil. What a conundrum he was.

“How is that?” Lucius demanded, turning to face him.

“Perfectly charming,” Sherry replied, struggling to keep a straight face.

“You are not taking this seriously,” Lucius complained, but then Hawkney appeared with Marcus in tow, and they both turned to gape at the duke.

Dressed in the garb of a lowly carriage driver, he wore a heavy, drab waistcoat that looked as if it had been out in all weathers for decades. He’d not shaved and had tied a plain neckcloth about his throat in a haphazard manner that Sheringham knew must have pained him, with a low-crowned hat pulled down over his face. He’d finished this less than elegant ensemble with a rough woollen muffler and sturdy boots, thick with dust.

“You also look perfectly charming, your grace,” Sherry said with a snort.

Hawkney just gave him a long-suffering look. “Is everyone ready?”

Lucius peered at him through the veil. “You look like a duke trying to be a coachman. Can’t you slouch or something? At least try to get into the spirit of the thing.”

Hawkney glowered. “Mrs Wainwright said she didn’t recognise me,” he said gruffly.

“Mrs Wainwright is a darling,” Sherry with a smile. “For God’s sake, keep your head down, Hawkney, and don’t go driving like you are a member of the Four-Horse Club. You’re a common hack driver, nothing more.”

“I know what to do,” Hawkney said irritably. “Just make sure you lot do. Lucius, are you ready?”

“That’s Miss Foxworthy to you,” Lucius said, shaking his head sadly. “Really, it’s not that hard.”

Impatient now, Hawkney snatched the front door open and strode outside, opening the door of the carriage. “We’d best be off, Miss Foxworthy,” he said in a low voice.

Marcus and Sherry hung back, out of sight, and watched with startled expressions as Lucius sashayed out of the door and climbed into the carriage.

“Good Lord,” Marcus said. “That was rather well done.”

Sherry huffed out a laugh. “So it was. Let us just hope the rest of the plan is as well executed.”

Marcus crept silently through the woods, skirting the road as the carriage trundled slowly down the hill. He could hear Sheringham close at his heels as they moved as fast as they dared. Keller was out here somewhere; Marcus could feel it.

He knew now that the odd sensation he’d had of someone watching him was not merely his imagination. Keller had been lurking, watching the house. Sebastian had seen him too, for it had not been one of Eustacia’s beaux waiting forlornly outside. That Keller had been there, perhaps spying on Eustacia, made his blood boil.

He’d meant what he’d told Eustacia. The plan was a good one, for it was simple and there was little that could go wrong. All the same, if he just happened to find Keller in his path now, he’d not object in the least. So long as he got to thrash the devil to within an inch of his life, he’d be satisfied.