The Earl's Secret Bride by Joanne Wadsworth

Author:Joanne Wadsworth
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Their coach bumped over a hole in the road and Rosamonde knocked her head against Winterly’s chin. She stretched on the coach’s padded bench, absurdly happy as Winterly opened his eyes with a grunt. As he rubbed his eyes, she couldn’t help but smile and kiss his chin where she’d bumped it. “Richard, this night, thus far, has been a divine adventure.”

“It would be more divine if I were lying beside you in my bed, both of us as naked as the day we were born.” He reached into his jacket pocket and removed his pocket watch. In the dim light of the lamp, he stared at the piece then repocketed it. “It’s been three hours, so we can’t be far from our destination. I’ll take a look out the window. Up you get, my love.”

She wrestled into a seated position, which allowed him room to sit as well.

Once he’d adjusted his tailed jacket, he swept the window curtain aside and peered out. A trace of moonlight flickered over the rippling waters of the River Esk which bordered the village of Gretna Green. She had traveled this road often over the years and knew it well. In the distance, lights shone from the stone cottages within the village, like a beacon of welcoming light guiding them through the dark of the night.

“We’ve made good time,” he murmured.

“Yes, we certainly have.”

“There’s the blacksmith’s shop.” He motioned to the fork in the road where smoke curled into the air from the chimney and candles burned in the front latticed windows either side of the door, the shop surrounded by trees. “Except there is another coach outside the front door and a driver atop it. We’ll need to wait our turn, but at least that means we won’t have to awaken one of the anvil priests.”

“Who does that coach belong to?” They pulled up alongside it in the wide circular driveway, the carriage holding beautiful scrollwork on each side but other than that no insignia graced the fine lines of the carriage.

“They seem to desire anonymity as we do.” Winterly tapped the roof and called out, “Peterson, we’ll wait until all is clear.”

“Yes, my lord.” An answer in the affirmative resounded from his valet.

“We’ll ready ourselves though.” In his tailed black jacket and fine black breeches, his white cravat knotted at his neck, he donned his cloak and eased the hood over his head.

She tidied her hair, slotted her bonnet in place and tied a bow underneath her chin with the silk ribbons. Gloves and cloak donned, her hood in place, she waited as Winterly kept an eye on what happened out the window. A cloaked couple emerged from the front door and hurried down the steps. After they alighted into their carriage, Winterly allowed the curtain to sway back over the windowpane.

The clatter of wheels reverberated then tapered away.

Winterly opened the door and stepped down. He reached back, his gaze locked on hers as he extended his hand. She accepted his

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