light of the morning. It was perhaps half an hour behind him. Better to go back to a decent inn than go on not knowing how far he must lead the horse or what he would find there. He could breakfast there and rest for an hour before continuing his journey. It had been foolish to travel without a groom, for he could not leave the other horse and the chaise here in the road. Perhaps he could find help at the farm just ahead, for if he could leave the chaise and horses with a respectable man, he might arrange to borrow a hack and continue his journey.
Hal was debating what to do next when he saw a man riding towards him and shouted, hoping that the stranger might know of someone who could help him. Turning back to the lame horse, Hal began to release it from the traces as the man came up to him.
‘Thank God,’ a voice he knew said and he spun round to find himself facing Adam. ‘I thought you might be in London by now.’
‘Adam!’ Hal cried. ‘Your man found me and told me that Maddie has run off—whatever possessed her to do it?’
‘I fear she may have overheard us in the library. You remember I questioned your intentions...she must have thought I was against her for she left rather than bring shame on us.’
Hal swore loudly. ‘I was on my way back to Ravenscar,’ he said. ‘I thought you were searching for Madeline—what brought you this way?’
‘She hired a chaise to take her to Dover. I have asked at all the posting inns and this morning I discovered that she put up at the Hare and Hounds last night.’
‘Dover?’ Hal was puzzled. ‘Why on earth would she go there? She cannot be thinking of leaving England?’
‘I think she must have done it to put anyone off her scent,’ Adam said, ‘for I was told at the inn that the lady had left but had hired a chaise not for Dover but London.’
‘She deliberately tried to deceive us?’ Hal’s mouth set hard for this was deceitful. ‘I do not understand this, Adam. Something is not right. What can she intend?’
‘I think she is confused and distressed,’ Adam said. ‘Her letter to Jenny made it clear that she was leaving for our sakes.’
‘I must find her, Adam. She is in danger whether or not she realises it—and I must know why she has run away from me.’
‘Yes, of course. What has happened to your rig?’
‘The poor beast has gone lame. I must lead it to a posting house where it can be looked after until I can have it returned to its owner.’
‘Let me lead the lamed horse while you harness mine to the chaise and go on, Hal. I can arrange for this horse to be cared for and eventually returned to its owner—hire another horse at the posting house and leave my horse for me. I shall rest for a while and then return to Jenny, because I know she must be anxious.’
‘Are you sure?’ Hal looked doubtful for his cousin’s horse was a fine animal and unused to being between the shafts of a chaise.
‘Horace is well trained and will obey you, but treat him gently. Here, I’ll give you a hand.’
‘How far behind her were you?’ Hal asked as the cousins re-harnessed the horses. ‘I saw a chaise heading towards London some time back. Now I think about it, there were two men riding behind on horses, but I did not look at their faces for I was in too much hurry.’
‘It could not have been them for she took only her maid and Thomas.’
‘No, I dare say you are right,’ Hal said. ‘I shall return to the post house that I passed some time back. I think I shall hire a groom to drive me this time, for otherwise I may fall asleep. You should rest there before you return home, Adam.’ He clasped his cousin’s hand. ‘I am sorry Madeline has caused distress. I think she did not mean to upset anyone.’
‘I blame myself, Hal. If she heard what I said to you, she may have felt I did not welcome her in my house. I should have been kinder, but I could not forget the pain she had caused you in the past. Now I realise I was wrong to doubt her. Do not think ill of her for what she has done—go after her and tell her you care for her. It is all she needs to know, surely?’
Hal thanked him and they parted, Adam preparing to lead the horse as Hal set off at a more measured pace than before. At least he knew where Madeline was headed now. Before, he had been uncertain what had happened, but now it seemed that she meant to return to London—perhaps to her late husband’s home? She had every right to do so, of course, but she had told him she wanted nothing more than her settlement so that she could find a home of her own.
Why had she decided to return there? Hal could make nothing of her flight for it appeared to contradict all he’d believed. Adam seemed to imagine that Madeline was uncertain of Hal’s feelings, but she could not have thought he cared a jot for the marquis’s spite—could she?
He was torn between hope and anger. His cousins had taken her in and given her a comfortable place to live while she sorted out her life—why could she not have accepted their kindness instead of causing distress? Why had she chosen to run away as soon as Hal’s back was turned?
Was it possible that she cared nothing for him—that she preferred to return to her old life as Lethbridge’s widow?
Madeline must know that Hal loved her more than his life. How could she have done this knowing what distress it must cause?
Adam had reminded him that she had chosen to marry the count when she knew it would break Hal’s heart. He had dismissed the warning, excusing her and telling himself that she’d had no choice. But supposing he was wrong?
Supposing she was a cold-hearted selfish woman who thought only of herself?
No, she could not be. She was tender and warm and loving. But then why had she run away when she must know it would break his heart to lose her all over again?
Hal shook his head, feeling relieved as he saw the posting house just ahead of him. He would discover the answers to his questions only when he caught up with Madeline, but he could drive no further without resting. He would pause at the inn, change horses and eat something, and he would hire a groom to drive him so that he could sleep for a while.
He could not be that far behind Madeline if she had come from the Hare and Hounds. Half an hour to change the horses and eat, then they would be off again. With luck they could not be much more than an hour or so behind.
* * *
‘What? Damn you, Joseph. Are you certain?’ Rochdale looked at his servant hard. ‘You are sure she was bound for London and not for Dover?’
‘Quite certain, my lord. I heard her servant tell the post boys of a change of plans. They are headed for London—and for a house in Grosvenor Square—and she has a gentleman’s escort as well as her servants. He looked a military man to me.’
‘She is returning to her husband’s house?’ Rochdale cursed beneath his breath. He’d thought her alone apart from the servants and therefore defenceless. But if she had an escort, Ravenscar must have joined them on the road, which meant she was now well defended. They must have decided to dismiss his threats as worthless, and indeed, though he might cause them some trouble, there was very little he could really do other than strip them of as much of Lethbridge’s wealth as he dared. If he dropped hints that she was no better than a whore, a few eyebrows would be raised, but with Lethbridge’s reputation most ladies would simply titter behind their fans and think that in Madeline’s place they might have done the same.
It seemed he’d missed his chance to snatch her. Unless he could somehow pass them—and lie in wait for their chaise on the road. He was driving a sporting curricle and could make better speed than a hired chaise. If he could dispose of Ravenscar and the footman, he would have her at his mercy. Rochdale had heard the rumours of highwaymen on the Heath. Madeline was certain to stop for nuncheon to break her journey. If he drove at all speed he could pass them and then... A smile touched his lips. Masked, he could take advantage of the rumours and kill both Ravenscar and the footman. Their deaths