Page 67 of How to Cross a Marquess (The Way to a Lord's Heart 3)

“We must see if there is anything we can do to prevent that.”

“Which would be?”

“There are these letters. They should be dealt with.”

“Yes.”

“Our recent visitors don’t seem to have heard about them.”

Helena nodded. “With no friends in the neighborhood, they had no one to tell them.”

Arthur nodded. “Still, best to put a stop to it.”

“But can we?”

“I have an idea we can try.”

Helena gazed up at him with admiration. “You really are the most complete hand, aren’t you, Lord Macklin.”

He laughed at her use of this uncharacteristic expression. “Let’s wait and see how I do before we say that.”

* * *

Fenella and Roger shared a supper of roast mutton and vegetables at an inn on the banks of the river Tweed. They drew no sidelong looks or whispered comments, as Fenella had half feared. No one took any particular notice of them. “We’re married,” she said to Roger.

“We’re married,” he agreed.

“Actually.” She looked at the ring on her finger. Roger had purchased the gold band from an enterprising jeweler near the Scottish end of the Coldstream Bridge. Apparently others arrived at the border without this important item. But did they also lack so much as a hairbrush, she wondered. Perhaps so, as she and Roger had found a shop offering personal necessities as well. It had been embarrassing and rather thrilling to stock up.

“My…not-friend researched the matter thoroughly. Definitely a binding marriage.”

“So I have eloped. I am married. And I’ve stolen Mr. Larraby’s horse.” Emotion bubbled in Fenella’s chest, struggling to escape in a laugh. She was…glad? Or perhaps this was what insanity felt like.

Roger smiled at her. “Borrowed, surely? We’ll have the animal taken back to him.”

“Or shall I purchase it, out of sentiment?”

He looked a question.

“The mount that bore me to my wedding. To live in my stables ever after.”

“Well, if you like,” Roger began.

Fenella’s laugh burst out. “No, no, he must go back to Mr. Larraby. He’s a perfect slug, I’m afraid.”

“We’ll find out where they’ve taken Lightfoot and buy her back for you.”

Her throat grew tight at the fact that Roger had remembered her loss and at the idea of having her favorite mount back again. She had to clear it before she could speak. “I’d like that. Thank you.” She heard hoofbeats outside and couldn’t help pulling back from the window. “I’m sure Gissing came after us. He wouldn’t have been able to resist. I hope he won’t find us.” She would defy him if he did, of course. But she’d prefer not to. She’d had enough of his bluster to last her the rest of her life.

“He’ll find no one to tell him which way we went,” said Roger.

“But several people saw us ride out of Coldstream. You spoke to them.”

“To provide each of them with a liberal encouragement to forget our existence.”

“You bribed them?” Fenella cocked her head. “You’re rather good at this, aren’t you? Perhaps a bit too good? One would almost think you’d eloped before.”

“Not me.”

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