The butler looked outraged over something. Perhaps he had noticed the dogs’ activities. “No, my lady. His lordship has returned to town. He asked me to—”
Gillian turned a blind eye to what Erp was doing to a particularly fragrant pink rosebush and frowned at the butler. “He what? You must be mistaken; we have just arrived from town. Perhaps he went into the local village or out to visit the tenants.”
Tremayne Two shook his head. “I’m afraid not, my lady. His lordship ordered his things packed and he left early this morning with his valet. He left this letter for you—”
“He left me? The day after we were wed, he has left me?”
Gillian stared at the man in front of her with an expression that mingled horror with a magnificent display of anger. Tremayne watched her, fascinated by the ability of her eyes to darken from brilliant green to almost black.
“After the most satisfying wedding night in the entire history of the world, he left me, Tremayne?”
“I’m afraid I know nothing about your wedding night, my lady, indeed I do not, but his lordship did leave you a—”
“That poor man!” Gillian shouted at the top of her lungs.
Tremayne blinked at her in surprise. “I beg your pardon, my lady?”
“That poor, misguided, foolish man!” she bellowed in return.
“Misguided, my lady? That man left you after your wedding night! You, an innocent young bride!” Tremayne was yelling just as loudly as Gillian, a point that did not escape her attention. She motioned her stepson back into the house, took a deep breath, and addressed the agitated butler in soothing tones.
“Tremayne, calm down, it’s quite all right. I understand his lordship’s reasoning—”
“He left you, my lady! Just up and packed his things and left you like you were yesterday’s breakfast! Such a callous, uncaring man doesn’t deserve your kindness!”
“Tremayne, I understand—”
“He’s got to be mad to leave a bride alone the day after he wed! Especially you, my lady! Especially after the most satisfying wedding night in the entire history of the world! He’s lost his reasoning, that’s what it is!”
Lord, she’d soon be deaf if he continued to defend her. “Tremayne!”
He stopped his tirade and stared as Gillian stomped her foot on the soft grass. “You will stop this slanderous talk about Lord Weston immediately. He is your employer. He is an earl. And he is my husband — I won’t have you chastising him when he’s not here to defend himself.”
The butler stared at her in disbelief.
“But, my lady,” he said weakly, waving his hands about in a helpless manner.
Gillian noticed the cream envelope clutched against a silver tray. “Is that for me?”
“Er — yes, my lady. It is from”—he took a steadying breath and spat out the words—“his lordship.”
Gillian read the brief contents of the note. It consisted of three lines, stating that Weston felt it important that he be in London while Parliament was sitting, and since he knew Gillian would be infinitely happier in the country with her dogs, he trusted she would amuse herself until his return.
She carefully folded the note and, ignoring the expectant look on Tremayne’s face, turned her back and scanned the lush, perfect grounds of Nethercote. Life was funny — one moment you could be deliriously happy with everyone and everything, the next moment that happiness seemed to crumble and fall to pieces. Gillian felt as if she was standing on a threshold: one step forward and her life would follow one path, a step backward and it would go in another direction. The question of which path to choose was not at issue — she would follow Noble. He needed her, whether or not he knew it. Last night’s intimacies made that quite clear in her mind. No two people who could share the experience they shared could doubt that they were soul mates, intended from the very beginning of time for each other. She sighed heavily. Bringing the Lord of Obstinacy around to see that truth was another matter. The walls he had erected around his heart were formidable ones, and she wasn’t quite sure how she was going to scale them.
She sighed again. “I am, however, quite good at climbing trees, and I shouldn’t think there is too much of a difference.”
“Beg pardon, my lady?”
Gillian turned back and met his confused countenance. “It is of no consequence. Tremayne, would you have my maid pack my things in preparation for a trip to London?”
“I will indeed, my lady, with all due haste. And may I say, good for you, my lady?”
She matched his jubilant smile. “Would you also have my son’s things packed? Nick will be accompanying me. I believe we will ride rather than take the carriage.”
“Very good my lady, I’ll order…did you say you would ride rather than take the carriage?”
She nodded and started toward the house. “We shall leave in an hour. You can follow later with the trunks and any servants who are needed at the town house. Oh, dear, Piddle and Erp; I forgot about them. It wouldn’t be fair to leave them here with strangers…Tremayne, I don’t suppose—”
“No, my lady, I couldn’t. Please don’t ask me to.”
“But they are very well-behaved dogs, and I could not stand the thought of leaving them behind.”
“It’s not their behavior I object to, my lady.”
Gillian sucked on her lower lip for a moment. “Has Lord Weston an old carriage? One that is not used frequently?”
The butler met her gaze with a slow smile. “He does, my lady. I shall see to the hounds’ removal to London myself.”
“Pettigrew likes them,” she said as they strolled toward the house. “Tell him we’ll need a boots in town, and send him to guard over their safety.”
“As you wish, my lady.”
Gillian paused at the bottom of the steps leading up to the veranda and looked up at the warm stone of the house. “Don’t worry, Tremayne Two. I’m not giving up on him.”
“I’m eternally grateful for that, my lady.”
The two shared a brief smile, then Gillian skipped up the stairs and into the house to change into her old green velvet riding habit. A brisk ride was just what she needed to clear her head.
CHAPTER FOUR
Gillian swung her leg over the perch of the sidesaddle and slipped down to the ground in a manner reminiscent of a sack of bulldogs plunging the same distance. She stifled the groan that threatened to escape as she hobbled over to help Nick from his horse. The lad leaped down without assistance and looked about him with interest, as fresh as a daisy despite the grueling four-hour ride.
“Children,” she grumbled under her breath, and handed the reins to the groom who had accompanied them on the journey.
“Nick, please use the knocker,” she instructed and, hobbling to the front steps, attempted to straighten her appearance into something resembling that of a countess. A perspiring, dusty, unkempt countess whose riding habit had an unfortunate tendency to rick up on one side, but still, Gillian reminded herself as she raised her chin and tried to summon a haughty look, a genuine countess.
“ ’Ere, what’s that noise yer makin’? Can’t you see the knocker’s off the ’ouse? Don’t that mean nothin’ to ye? We don’t want ye hereabouts!”
Nick, faced with a door without a knocker, had affected entrance by simply pounding on the door with his fists. He was as startled as Gillian when the door suddenly swung open and a monstrous figure appeared, one huge hand on his hip as he glowered at the three people standing before him.
God’s ten toes, the man was huge — even bigger than Noble. He was as dark as sin, with a frown that could scorch the sun, but what really worried Gillian was the strange apparatus that lay glinting against his hip.