"I know. But he does. I'll explain later. Much later, or else you'll feel sorry for him, and he would sense that in a moment." He tipped up her chin. "Are you all right?"

Her cheeks turned a becoming pink. "I'm fine, yes. Tanner, I-"

He touched his mouth lightly to hers, unable to resist any longer; a quick, stolen kiss, but with clinging lips and a soft sigh from Lydia when it was over. "I can't wait to show you Malvern. I want you to love it."

"I'm sure I already do," she said quietly.

And both of them knew what they were really saying.

"We, um, we need to go now. They're waiting for us."

"Yes, I-oh my goodness."

Tanner looked past the just-opened door to the hulking shadow standing outside the doorway, a large black umbrella clutched in one ham-sized fist and held above his head. The man was clad all in black, a long cape swirling about his tree-trunk legs that were spread wide apart, as if he was keeping himself steady on the deck of a ship tossing on a stormy sea.

He stood nearly as wide as he was tall-and he was inordinately tall. His ma.s.sive head and considerable cheeks seemed to shine by dint of the wall mounted candlelight reflecting off enormous quant.i.ties of rain-speckled black frizzed hair. His black eyes were impervious to the candlelight, however; they were flat and so devoid of expression that a fool would know there were no cheery thoughts going on anywhere inside that colossal head.

In short, the newcomer had all the jolly air about him of an undertaker come for the body of the deceased and determined to be paid in advance for the courtesy.

No wonder Lydia was now clasping his hand so tightly.

"Ah, Wigglesworth," Tanner said, attempting to keep a straight face, for he had been witness to this reaction many times. "Thank you for coming back for us."

"You're most entirely welcome, Your Grace," Wigglesworth said, delicately stepping out from behind the giant and entering the small foyer. Clad all in impeccable light grey, down to his hose and kid shoes, not a raindrop marred the thick silk or wilted the ma.s.ses of lace at his throat and wrists.

Wigglesworth was the picture of sartorial perfection, albeit one that would have been painted two decades previously. The only impediments to perfection were his size (bantam roosters might be taller, or at the least, carry more weight), and the fact that he possessed the high-pitched voice of a lady who has just discovered a mouse in her pudding.

He swept off his wide-brimmed hat-the one with the snowy white plume curling about it-displaying a finely powdered periwig, and made an elegant leg toward Lydia.

"My lady, your servant."

"We'll go with you now," Tanner said once Justin's servant had turned and made another elegant bow in his direction.

"How very gracious. Only at your convenience and in your own good time, Your Grace," Wigglesworth trilled. "Brutus and I are content to await your pleasure. Brutus, having delivered our invitation to His Grace and his lady, I am ready to make progress to my coach, if you please. He'll return directly for you, Your Grace. Tell them you'll be back directly, Brutus."

The giant grunted low in his throat and then smiled a smile that would make lesser men-perhaps even dozens at a time, and all well-armed-call out for their mothers.

"Very nicely done," Wigglesworth complimented the man. "And now-Brutus, up!"

Brutus flung back one side of his cloak and picked up Wigglesworth at the waist as if he weighed no more than a feather. His plumed hat now in his hand, Wigglesworth disappeared beneath the cloak and Brutus turned away from the doorway.

"No wonder his pretty slippers are so clean. Brutus?" Lydia said, her eyes wide as if she'd just seen something very singular. Which she had.

"Hmm, yes," Tanner said, believing he needed to explain Brutus to her. "He doesn't speak. He may be able to, but no one has ever said. Probably because no one has ever dared to inquire. Justin may know, as Brutus is his discovery, but it would be impolite to ask."

"What an odd pair the two of them are. Or should I say the three of them?"

"Justin would be the first to tell you he doesn't like being thought ordinary."

"Yes, that's rather obvious. I like him very much, but I will confess that I don't truly understand why he's chosen to be the way he is. I'm convinced there's so much more driving him than that unfortunate duel and having to be gone from England for so long."

"The duel and banishment weren't enough? He's got some other deep, dark secret? No, there's nothing. He's simply Justin. Someday, hopefully, he'll find someone who will force him to not just laugh at the vagaries of life, but to become a part of it," Tanner said thoughtfully. "He deserves that, and I think he's made his beginning. In the meantime, we'll just enjoy him for the good friend he is. In any event, for now you'll admit the partnership between Brutus and Wigglesworth is a good one. Would you listen to Wigglesworth if he strutted into your kitchen, demanding he be allowed to commandeer it for his master?"

"He hasn't a very commanding appearance, no," she said, smiling.

"Ah, but then Brutus enters behind him, and everyone in the kitchens is suddenly all smiles and how may I a.s.sist you. Justin thinks he's a genius to have thought of it, which he did after the first time Wigglesworth found his lovely suit of clothes with himself inside it deposited on the dung heap. He also told me that the only person who doesn't realize what's going on is Wigglesworth, who believes it is his own consequence that opens all doors for him. Now, quickly, as it's still raining fairly heavily, do you want Brutus to carry you to the coach?"

"Would it be terrible of me to admit that, even if the man is relatively harmless, I'd probably rather drown than to disappear inside that cloak?"

"I was hoping you'd say that." Tanner bent and scooped her up into his arms as the very large Brutus and the equally large umbrella stood once more just outside the doorway. She clung to his neck and he carried her across the innyard to the coach, Brutus trotting along beside him, the umbrella covering them.

Justin pushed the door open and Tanner deposited Lydia inside, then entered the coach himself, a rather ungainly move, as Brutus had decided to give him a helpful boost that nearly sent him headfirst into the other door.

"Lose your footing?" Justin asked, outwardly all concern.

"No, I always enter my coach on my knees," Tanner grumbled as Lydia grinned down at him.

"How odd. But, if it makes you happy, who am I to cavil?"

"We've got more than five hours to be packed in here together unless the rain stops, Justin," Tanner pointed out as he picked himself up and deposited himself on the seat beside his friend, across from the ladies, who would be allowed to ride in the forward-facing seats. "Don't make me have to shoot you before we're out of the innyard."

"Ah, touche! Lovely day for a drive," Justin went on quickly. "I must come to the country more often. It's so...bucolic."

"I can't wait to be back at Malvern," Jasmine said, oblivious to Justin's facetiousness, as she was lamentably oblivious to most anything that didn't affect her directly, Tanner had decided. He shot her a look as she launched into a tangled ma.s.s of description of his home that wouldn't have had him recognizing it if he hadn't known the subject of her ramblings, and held up a hand to interrupt her.

"Jasmine? What's wrong with your face?"

"My face?" she responded in shocked tones, raising a hand to her left cheek, which was just where he had been looking. "Nothing's wrong with my face. What a horrid thing for you to say to me, Tanner."

He didn't consider himself to be on a par with a Bow Street Runner, but he did have some powers of observation. Jasmine was right-handed. If she were to touch her face in response to his question, she should have raised her right hand, to her right cheek. But she'd raised her left hand, to her left cheek. "Are you wearing powder?"

"I most certainly am not wearing-" She looked at her gloved hand as she took it away from her cheek, and saw the powder that had transferred to the leather, leaving a faint outline of her fingers on her reddened skin...rather as if she'd just slapped herself. "Oh! Oh, I hate you!"

"Rice powder and raindrops don't do well together, do they?" Justin said, handing Jasmine a handkerchief he'd slipped from his waistcoat. "But shame on you, Tanner. I was fully prepared to sit here for the time it takes us to slog through the countryside to your ancestral home without ever once mentioning that Jasmine's face had begun to, well, run. That's the sign of the true gentleman, you know. There are many others. Should I write them down for you?"

Jasmine sobbed into the handkerchief, which wasn't affecting Tanner as she probably supposed it should. He looked to Lydia, whose blue eyes were twinkling in humor at the way Justin had been teasing him. Well, wasn't it lovely that they were both so amused. He'd like to be amused, too, but Jasmine was difficult to ignore, for he knew her tears could soon escalate to a full-out bout of hysterics. Lord knew he'd witnessed enough of them over the years. "Do you know what the devil's going on here?"

"I do, yes. Jasmine told me she tripped over the hem of her dressing gown last night, and her cheek collided with...the doorjamb. But we concluded that she hadn't broken anything."

"The doorjamb is intact? How wonderful."

"Justin," Tanner growled, "don't help. Jasmine, are you sure you're all right? You should have told me. We could have remained at the inn another day, until you'd recovered, even brought in a doctor to check on you. Is the cheek very painful? It looks swollen, too, now that I can really see it."

"It's horribly painful," Jasmine said, sniffling. "And now you're telling me that I'm ugly. How could Papa think I should want to marry you?"

Once again Tanner looked to Lydia, mutely appealing for help while at the same time mulling the idea that riding atop the coach, even in this downpour, would be preferable to listening to Jasmine.

Lydia leaned close to Jasmine, cupped a hand beside her mouth, and whispered something in Jasmine's ear. His cousin's eyes went wide, then very narrow, as she jerked her head away, glared at Lydia.

Lydia crooked her finger so that Jasmine came closer, whereupon Lydia whispered in her ear again, and when Jasmine turned to her, her mouth a small O of shock, Lydia nodded her head a single time.

Jasmine nodded back, as if the two of them had come to some sort of agreement-one that suited Lydia much more than it did his cousin.

"She'll be fine now," Lydia announced placidly, sitting forward once more and folding her hands demurely in her lap, the very picture of ladylike calm. "Won't you, Jasmine?"

As if to prove Lydia's words, his cousin immediately smiled brightly, apologized very prettily to everyone for "being such a goose," and then declared that she would close her eyes now and hope to sleep for the remainder of the journey, as she had spent a restless night.

At which point Lydia once again rolled her eyes. Tanner saw the reaction because he'd been looking at her, and not at Jasmine.

And then, just as she had asked Justin to please carve her a slice of beef last evening after Flynn had been routed from the private dining room, she turned her attention back to that man to politely press him to tell her all about Wigglesworth and Brutus.

Clearly, as the subject of Flynn had been dismissed, the subject of Jasmine's bruised cheek was now being dismissed.

Which didn't mean Tanner wasn't going to open that subject again later, when they arrived at Malvern...

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

A WATERY SUN BROKE through the low, overhanging clouds just as the coaches pa.s.sed through a charming village Tanner told them was no more than five miles from Malvern. The rain had stopped two hours earlier and the roadway had been drying, but it was the advent of sunshine that brought out Tanner's invitation that he and Lydia continue to his estate on horseback.

Lydia looked toward the slumbering Jasmine, and then across the coach, to where Justin sat, his curly brimmed beaver cleverly lowered over his eyes so that it was impossible to tell if he was awake or asleep.

"Oh, but we probably shouldn't leave Jasmine without a chaperone," she whispered. "Should we?"

"On the contrary, my dear," Justin drawled, pushing back his hat. "You should not be leaving me without a chaperone. Compromise is a weapon that cuts both ways, as many an unwary fellow married to some totally unsuitable miss who somehow managed to get him alone just before her conniving mama sprung into the room with witnesses and triumphantly crying aha will doubtless tell you."

"You're really incorrigible," Lydia told him, laughing.

"Yes, I know. I also would very much like to be on horseback myself, after so many hours confined to this coach. Not that the company hasn't been delightful."

"Well, then, join us, please."

"I would, Lydia, save that I also wish for a good gallop. And I do believe I remember the way, having ridden it with you. I'll meet you all at Malvern, shall I?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned and opened the small door cut into the well of the coachman's perch.

She hadn't questioned Sarah laying out her riding habit for a second day, believing it easier for the maid, who would not then have to perhaps ask that another trunk be downloaded from the traveling coach.

Besides, she wasn't vain. Sarah had nicely brushed the riding habit and it was certainly fresh enough to be worn again. There had been three trunks in Jasmine's rooms last night, Lydia had noticed. It felt rather gratifying to think that she, Lydia, was more practical.

Within five minutes, the coach had pulled to the side of the roadway, the horses were untied from behind the close-following servant coach, and the protective blankets removed from their saddles. Mildred was moved to the crested coach to be with her slumbering mistress (and prop her up if she began to tilt as the coach rounded some curve), and all three riders were mounted and ready to move on once more.

Almost, Lydia thought, as if the whole thing had been planned.

"Well, I'm off," Justin said, tipping his hat to her. "A ride across country is just the treat this beast needs."

"Are you referring to your mount, or yourself?"

"Ah, a very good question, Tanner. I know you won't mind if I ask your butler to bring me one of your best from the wine cellars while I await your arrival. I'll consider it a magnanimous gesture, somewhat a consolation prize on your part."

"What did he mean by that?" Lydia asked as Justin's horse sprang forward into an almost immediate gallop, clearly eager to stretch its legs.

"Who knows what Justin means by anything he says. Sometimes I believe he speaks just to amuse himself with the sound of his own voice."

"No, you don't. Believe that, I mean."

Tanner urged his mount forward at a slow walk beside her Daisy as the trio of coaches disappeared over the rest of the next hill. "You're correct, I don't. I think-no, I know-that he fancied himself falling in love with you."

"Oh. That," Lydia said with her usual sangfroid, at which point she felt Tanner's head swivel sharply to look at her. "Pretending he was speaking with Rafe before we left London the way he did? I knew he was only teasing everyone. n.o.body tumbles into love so quickly."

Tanner reached across the s.p.a.ce between them, to lay his hand on hers. Shocked and thrilled by this unexpected touch, she looked into his eyes, seeing her world there.

"Yes, Lydia, sometimes they do. Sometimes, against all reason, and at the most inconceivably disastrous moment any sane man could think possible, they do."

The day he'd come to tell them about Fitz. She felt hot color in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the now blazing sunshine. "I hated you. For what you were saying. For being alive..."

"I know."

Lydia bend her head to kiss the skin of Tanner's wrist, above his glove. "Fitz was a very smart man, wasn't he?"

"I feel like we have his blessing, yes."

She blinked back tears. But these were healing tears, and they washed away any lingering doubt she might have had that she should be allowed such happiness, born of such deep sorrow.

Tanner squeezed her hand before letting it go. "If you're up to riding across country, there's a spot on the hills I've visited often over the years. I'd like you to first see Malvern from there."

"I think I'd like that very much." She swiped quickly at her damp cheeks, and smiled at him. "But remember, I'm not the rider Nicole is. No fearlessly flying over five-bar fences for me."

He pointed to a small lane to their left, and they headed toward it, and moments later were out of sight from the broader road. Because the packed earth was still somewhat soft from the earlier rain, she could see the imprints made by Justin's mount minutes before.

"Pardon me for saying this, but thank G.o.d for that. Lucas enjoys her adventurous spirit, but if you were likewise inclined, I'd never have a quiet moment, for worrying about you, for the fear that I could lose you."

Lydia smiled, her heart warm. Had there ever been such happiness in the world? Nothing stood between them now, nothing and n.o.body. No shadows, no more obstacles, real or imagined, to overcome. The road ahead, the life ahead, was all theirs. "Then I should promise to always be staid and boring and...safe?"

"Safe, yes. I find you far from staid or boring." His smile was all she could hope for. "But if you wouldn't mind?"

"Not at all. I hereby solemnly promise to be just who I am. Quiet, somewhat studious, and harboring not a single desire for adventure. Oh, and safe."

"And I promise to love you for all of our days, and all of our nights, for all of our lives."

Lydia's breath caught as she turned to look at him.

He smiled sheepishly and shook his head. "I've been wanting to say that to you for so long. I've pictured the moment in my head a dozen times-the time, the place. And now I've just blurted it out. I'm sorry."