"Probably would have if Franklin hadn't come up with his devious little plan. As it was, her duty was to keep tabs on you and report."
"She's the one who put that horrid letter on the table for me to find!"
Bradford nodded and was shocked when his wife repeated one of his favorite expletives.
He didn't think to criticize her for it. Caroline turned and hurried on to her room, muttering something about trusting Mary Margaret's instincts from now on.
Their departure to see the marquis was delayed when Charity and Paul arrived on their doorstep for a visit.
Caroline was so thrilled to see her cousin that Bradford kept his patience and listened to the idle chatter until his nerves had reached the breaking point. He wanted the visit over and done with, concerned that Franklin would return. He wasn't concerned that Caroline would be harmed, but that he might well strangle the man right in front of his brother. He had every intention of dealing with Franklin, but hoped Caroline wouldn't be forced to witness it.
His wife was so happy to learn that Charity and Paul weren't going to leave for Boston until the middle of the summer that she was in high spirits when they finally went to see the marquis.
Bradford had tutored his wife as to exactly what she should say and thought that she was proceeding quite well. She didn't bat an eye when she spotted Marie, but her voice sounded strained when she visited with Loretta.
The marquis was seated in front of a fire in the main salon, looking quite fit. Caroline sat beside him, holding his hand. She had already mentioned that they were going to return to Bradford Hills on the twentieth, using the excuse that her husband had duties to attend to and she didn't want to leave his side.
Her Uncle Milo teased her about being newly married and Caroline blushed quite prettily. Loretta finally took her leave, and Bradford stood up, his signal to his wife that it was time to depart.
"Uncle Milo, I've a favor to ask you," Caroline announced. She looked at her husband and motioned him to sit back down.
Bradford frowned, but Caroline ignored him and turned back to her uncle.
"You know I'd do anything for you, dear," Uncle Milo returned.
"I'm worried about my father," Caroline said. "He… he isn't feeling well and he's all alone and he won't come with us to Bradford Hills."
"Brax is ill?" he asked. His eyes showed his concern and he gripped Caroline's hand.
She hurried to soothe him. "The physician says that he's really fine." Caroline glanced over at her husband. He was staring at her with a look that suggested she had just lost her mind.
"It's in his head, you see. He's so lonely and alone. Well, I was wondering if you might consider moving in with him for a spell. Until he gets used to not having me around again."
Uncle Milo looked delighted by the suggestion. "A splendid idea," he announced. "Glad to help out."
"Bradford will help you transfer your things," Caroline volunteered. She smiled at her husband and then added, "I just won't stop worrying until you're with my father, Uncle Milo. Do you think you could move into his townhouse today?"
Bradford fell in with the plan, thinking it was an excellent method of seeing to her uncle's protection. He had also noticed the spark of eagerness in the man's eyes and realized then what a lonely man he must really be.
But his gentle wife had understood. He fought the urge to take her into his arms and kiss her, realizing again that he possessed the most beautiful of all women. And the beauty came from her heart.
He waited until he finally had her alone in their carriage and then took her into his arms and kissed her soundly.
"What was that for?" Caroline asked. Her voice trembled from the heat of the kiss, and that special weak feeling invaded her stomach.
"For being beautiful," Bradford told her.
Caroline sighed. "I'm glad you think I'm beautiful, Bradford. But what will happen when I grow old and wrinkled?" Her voice sounded fretful and she searched his face for her answer.
"I love you, sweet, but it isn't because of your appearance. It's what's inside you, and that won't ever change. Did you think I could be so shallow and tell you that I loved you because of your appearance only?"
Caroline shook her head, denying that truth, and Bradford kissed her again. He pushed her head down on his shoulder so she couldn't see the mischief in his eyes and added, "If that was the case, I would have left you when you cut your hair."
Caroline didn't take the bait. She laughed, delighted with his wit, and told him that the only reason she had married him was because of his money.
It was the last time that they teased each other during the following two days.
The men following Franklin reported that he was again on the move.
And on the morning of the twentieth, the Duke of Bradford's carriage set out for Bradford Hills.
Caroline was quite practical about the trap until it actually came time to see it through, and then she begged her husband to stay with her and let his men see to Franklin.
When she realized he wouldn't be swayed, she demanded that he take every precaution. "You don't need to leave so many guards with me," she argued.
"You'll stay in the bedroom until I get back," Bradford returned, ignoring her argument.
"Be sure to count the number of men before you go charging into the middle of an ambush," she warned.
"For God's sake, Caroline, have a little faith in your husband's ability!" Bradford yelled. He kissed her then, his way of letting her know that he hadn't really meant to yell at all.
Caroline followed him to the bedroom door, where Milford stood waiting, and whispered, "See to his back, Milford."
Bradford heard her and shook his head with exasperation. He gave her a quick hug and then shut the door behind him, leaving his wife to pace and pray until he returned.
Bradford had placed two men in charge of driving the empty carriage. He and Milford, with six good men, took another route, and when they reached the outskirts of London, they abandoned the road and took to the hills.
There were several ideal spots for an ambush in Bradford's estimation and it took two hours of hard riding before they spotted Franklin's men.
There were four men on each side of the incline, crouched against the dense underbrush, weapons drawn. Bradford saw that another man, separated from either group, watched from the highest point of the hill. He couldn't see the man's face, but he was certain it was Franklin.
He motioned to Milford, who turned and also spotted the lone figure.
"Franklin?"
"He's mine," Bradford stated, his voice harsh.
The men laying in wait never had a chance. The surprise attack was quickly done with. And then Bradford was racing toward his stallion, intent on getting to the lone man observing the scene from above.
Bradford was on his horse and after his prey before the man had crested the hill.
The forest was dense but the snow made easy work of tracking, and Bradford was upon his enemy before he had cleared the next rise. The pace was furious and when Bradford reached the man, he lunged at him. The two men fell to the ground. Bradford rolled and stood up. The other man lay face down, without moving, and from the unusual angle of his head, Bradford knew his neck had been broken in the fall. He was furious over the quickness of it, aching still with the need for revenge. The bastard's death had been too easy.
Bradford walked over to the prone figure and used his boot to turn him over. A woolen scarf hid the lower part of the dead man's face, but Bradford recognized him anyway. It was Franklin on the ground with his neck broken, just as Bradford knew it would be.
He didn't waste time mulling over what was to be done with the body. Franklin would be buried the way that he had lived. Without honor. His body belonged to the scavengers now.