Page 70 of An Arranged Marriage with a Cruel Earl
“I will escort her to the manor directly,” Andrew said a little touchily. Emmeline wanted to smile.
“I’d say you can borrow my horse, but the poor fellow is exhausted. I’m going to stay with the Watch and then walk him back to the manor.”
“Of course,” Andrew murmured. “Stable him here as long as he needs it.”
“I shall do,” Neville said with a grin. Emmeline struggled to her feet and Andrew held out a hand to help her. Neville’s gaze was soft as he looked at them.
“Get yourselves back to the manor,” he said gently. “I’ll join you in a moment.”
“We will. Thank you,” Andrew murmured.
Emmeline clung to his arm, and they walked slowly to the door. She could feel that Andrew was exhausted, every step an effort for them both. She held tightly onto his arm—she was almost dropping—and they walked slowly into the cold night air.
“Just a few hundred paces to the manor,” Andrew assured her gently. Emmeline giggled.
“I suppose after all that, it should seem easy.” She was laughing, a little wildly. It was because of the relief, she knew. Andrew smiled at her.
“Quite so,” he agreed. “Let’s go.”
They walked across the log bridge and Emmeline amazed herself by not falling in. She was exhausted, and the steps down the path blurred together, her sight wavering and her mind blurring in and out ofconsciousness as they walked through the darkened grounds towards the manor.
“I forgot to ask Neville to bring the box,” Andrew said with a grin as they reached the back door through which they had exited.
Emmeline laughed. “It would seem a pity just to leave it there. After all that,” she added with a shaky chuckle.
Andrew opened the door and they half-fell into the house.
“My lord!” Mr Pearson declared as they stumbled into the hallway. Andrew lifted his gaze.
“Please have a bath drawn for Lady Rilendale,” he said firmly, his frosty dignity settling like a cloak around him. “And some hot tea sent up for us both.”
“At once, my lord,” the butler stammered.We must look a mess,Emmeline thought wearily. Andrew’s white shirt was caked in mud, face bruised, and she was still clinging onto his coat, her skirt in tatters and dirt-stained around her legs.
“Go and rest, my dear,” Andrew murmured. He sounded exhausted. “I’ll come and join you in the drawing room once you’ve bathed.”
“But...” Emmeline stammered. Now that they were safe in the house, questions flooded her mind. “But where did the Watch come from? And Neville...” She trailed off. It all seemed so strange.
“I sent for Neville before we left,” Andrew informed her gently. “I knew that we’d be in danger. I sent a swift rider to his home, asking him to summon the Watch and ride to the manor. I also asked him to keep an eye out for Ambrose and Lydia and said they might know where we were. Lydia must have led him to us.”
“Where is she?” Emmeline murmured, shivering. Her focus on Ambrose had been so great that she had forgotten all about the other of Andrew’s relatives. Lydia was possibly even more lethal than Ambrose was.
“I noticed one of the Watchmen was standing guard over someone outside the door. I can only assume it was her,” Andrew answered.
“I didn’t even notice them,” Emmeline answered. If Lydia had been lurking there with a weapon, she would not have noticed her either.
“Shh. It’s all well,” Andrew told her gently. “We’re safe. Go upstairs now, my dear. The bath will arrive shortly.”
“And you?” Emmeline breathed. The gentle tone and terms of endearment were melting her heart. She recalled the tender embrace theyhad shared and part of her longed to kiss him again, while the rest of her ached for a bath and warmth.
“I will also bathe,” he said softly. “And then I’ll join you in the drawing room. I think tea and cake are in order.”
“Tea, certainly,” Emmeline said with a giggle. The thought of a cup of tea was bliss. It was exactly what she needed.
She went upstairs and waited for a bath to be drawn for her.
After half an hour of soaking in the warm, lavender-scented water, some of the horrors of the ordeal had worn off and her thoughts were clear again. She wrapped her satin dressing gown around herself and rang the bell to summon Rebecca, her maid.
“A clean dress, please, Rebecca and if you could arrange my hair?” Her long red hair had long ago come loose from its style and hung in disarray around her shoulders.
