Page 56 of A Scot's Pride
The following morning, barely having rested, she roused herself enough to eat a light breakfast in the dining room before they were back in the carriage to do it all over again.
Nearing noon, they stopped to rest the horses, get something to eat and inquire about the elopers.
“Oh, you just missed them. Think it’s been not a quarter hour that’s passed,” the innkeeper said.
“We will take our luncheon to go if you please,” Lady Daven said, then left Freya inside as she went to talk to the carriage driver about moving on.
Freya collected the food parcel, which consisted of two chicken sandwiches and some cider, and rejoined Lady Daven in the carriage. The driver was quick, urging the horses to up their speed. The carriage rocked and jolted as they sped down the road. Sitting backwards across from Lady Daven, Freya started to feel a little queasy and so moved to her companion’s side on the bench, hoping facing forward would ease her discomfort.
My goodness, it was awful going at this speed. Lady Daven cracked the window to let in some air as she, too, struggled. Freya hoped the driver would be careful because the last thing they needed was to have an accident while in pursuit of her silly sister and her idiot beau.
But perhaps it was those unfortunate thoughts that she should have kept far from her mind because not a quarter hour passed with her having them that the carriage dipped to one side with a loud crack. One of the wheels on Lady Daven’s side of the carriage must have fallen into a rut in the road. Then there was another loud crack, and the carriage listed violently to the side.
Lady Daven grabbed hold of the side of the door with one hand and Freya’s arm with the other. The driver shouted as Freya felt her world tumbling. The carriage rolled violently onto its side, sending them both flying. Freya crashed hard against the window, which shattered against the road, and Lady Daven landed on top of her.
Freya groaned as Lady Daven released a string of expletives and apologized for her language. Her speech was a good sign. Freya had braced the older woman’s fall, or else Lady Daven could have been badly injured.
“Please don’t apologize,” Freya said, pushing herself up, her shoulder hurting something fierce. When she glanced down, she saw a piece of glass protruding from her upper arm. “If there’s any time to be a little foul-mouthed, this is bloody well it.”
20
The Ladies’ Marriage Prospects Bulletin
If you find yourself in a situation where those around you are creating a scandal, make haste to extricate yourself from their company. You may do well to add to the gossip against them so people know you are on the right side. This goes for siblings as well. Remember, first and foremost, a suitable match must be obtained at all costs.
Bryson gritted his teeth and slapped his leather gloves against his thigh as he walked from the inn back to his horse. He felt as if he’d been going in circles for hours and hours, only to come up empty-handed. Again.
Campbell was clever this go around. The mangy shite. Circling back to hit nearly every village that wasn’t in a straight line to Gretna Green to keep anyone who followed off his tail. At this rate, if Bryson simply went to Gretna Green, he’d beat them there. Probably by a day or two. However, he wouldn’t have beaten Campbell from taking the innocence of Leila. And just how many he’d played this act of ruining innocence with was anyone’s guess, but Bryson now personally knew two, though Lucy was lucky to be found before the bastard could complete the act.
Another lass almost ruined, he would not allow.
Could not. This was why he wasn’t going to take the easy way and meet them on the other end and why he’d continue this frustrating zigzag course. Eventually, Campbell would make a mistake, and Bryson would pounce.
He should have fought harder for the bastard to be kept away from society when he had the chance. But in the end, Bryson had believed that perhaps the time rotting in a cell would do Campbell some good. There was a reason that men were sent to prison to be punished and then released. Time to repent for their sins.
Bryson had believed in the system. And well, in this instance, it seemed Campbell had not learned his lesson. The bastard.
Besides, a few years ago, if Bryson had made the stink he wanted to about it, the rag mags would have picked it up and printed Campbell’s deeds, and rumors would swirl anew among the wobbling mouths of gossipmongers about Bryson’s sister, which he absolutely could not have. Lucy’s reputation had been more important than Bryson’s revenge.
So, he’d said nothing to the magistrates about keeping Campbell in longer. Spread no rumors of his own about Campbell’s reputation to keep him away from young women, for they would have asked how he knew. They would have come up with their own answers when he refused to answer.
However, he hadn’t been without a card up his sleeve. On the day of Campbell’s release, Bryson was in Aberdeen. He had stood across the street from the jail as Campbell was led out the doors. It had taken all his willpower not to march across the street and punch him in the jaw. He took comfort in knowing he’d done that once already.
The two men had made eye contact, and Bryson had gestured that he’d be watching Campbell, making good on his promise for a time until he’d been called to London to seek a bride. At that point, he’d not kept his promise, and the slimy worm had also slithered his way down to London. And taken another innocent young woman.
Bryson let out a growl as he gave a frustrating tug on his gloves, pulling them over his fingers and into place, and then remounted his horse. At least on the back of a horse, he felt more comfortable than he did in a carriage or noisy ballroom. However, his purpose only made him see red and took all the joy out of the ride.
This time, he was going to make sure that Campbell was well and in his rightful place. No one else was ever going to suffer from Campbell’s machinations.
The worst part about this idiotic cat-and-mouse chase was that he’d found out the news from his Aunt Bertie who encouraged him to chase after the two, just before he was about to leave to go to the Grysham household to ask the baron for Freya’s hand. There’d been no time to waste in rushing off. He’d barely grabbed a change of clothes before he was on his horse and riding like his life depended on it.
Whatever happened to Leila, he was partially to blame for it. And he just hoped that Freya could forgive him.
Bryson felt a prickling on his neck as he rode out of town, but when he turned in the saddle to see what might have gotten his goose up, all looked normal. Carriages, people, a normal busy town. It couldn’t have been that he’d missed Leila and Campbell because the innkeeper said they’d already headed out that morning.
Aye, it was true that Campbell was circling back and around like a dog chasing his tail, but he wouldn’t have left a town in the morning and returned in the afternoon. That would be stupid.
Hmmm. Maybe he would do that. Bryson slowed his horse and turned back around one more time to ensure he hadn’t missed anything. As a soldier, that tingling feeling on the back of his neck had saved his and his men’s lives more times than he could count.
