A Silent Accord: A Victorian Gothic Romance (The Clandestine Sapphire Society Book 1) by Kathy L Wheeler

Author:Kathy L Wheeler [Wheeler, Kathy L]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing Inc.
Published: 2025-01-21T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

Sander took little comfort in the carriage on the way back to Stonemare, although the rutted roads did play in his favor in throwing Miss Fairclough almost on his lap a time or two. Until she wised up and grappled the strap, doing her utmost to lengthen the distance between them.

Even in the gloom, he detected her fiery blush—it glowed almost as bright as her hair—which was further deepened by the other two occupants sitting across from them. Already, he’d had to hide his amusement in keeping his gaze trained to the nearly visionless landscape.

The ride was tedious. For what should have taken thirty minutes had already stretched to over an hour. The coachman, Dermid, was due a raise if he managed the journey without a cracked wheel or axis. Fletcher as well just for having to ride beside him.

“How much longer?” Docia was not a patient young lady.

The trap opened and Fletcher’s face appeared. “There’s another carriage blocking the portico, sir. ’Fraid it’ll be a soggy trek to the portico.”

“Thank you, Fletcher. Have Dermid maneuver as close as he can,” Sander said. The trap shut and he addressed Docia. “To answer your question, we’re close. Bundle up.”

“To whom does the other carriage belong?” Miss Fairclough murmured.

“Oh, it must be Lucius,” Docia said. Excitement emanated from her in her inability to sit still.

He barely heard her over the pelting rain, but the same question occurred to him.

Their own conveyance rolled to a stop, but Sander’s ears still vibrated with the roar of the rain and rutted roads vibrating his head until he thought it would fall from his shoulders into the muck. Clearly, he would have to carry each of the occupants inside and he planned to save Miss Fairclough for last.

Docia was first. The lightest and quickest he dropped inside, where things were in chaos.

If Sander had been shipbound, Damien’s voice could be heard over the crashing waves. “Do you realize the danger you’ve put the horses in, traveling in such conditions?”

Sander heard no response and hurried back out to bring in Docia’s maid. “I’ll return shortly,” he told Miss Fairclough.

“Out of my sight, you little bastard. I can’t bear to look at you.” The harsh growl reverberated through the hall. Damn Damien. He hadn’t an iota of sense. Any more than their sire had had.

He’d set Olive on her feet just as Lucius tore out of the study and pounded up the stairs, fists swinging at his sides. The boy’s looks were identical to Damien’s at Lucius’s age of thirteen. Just what the devil was going on?

There was no time to find out now, however. Miss Fairclough couldn’t very well sit in the carriage until he dealt with the issue. Drenched through, Sander stepped back out into the deluge. To his great disappointment, Dermid was moving the carriage to the portico due to Baldric’s removal of the other now rounding the side of the castle in the direction of the stables.

Well, that was disappointing. He’d rather relished the idea of carrying the woman over the thresh—Gads, he was an idiot.

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