The Forger and the Duke (Ladies Least Likely Book 2) by Misty Urban

Author:Misty Urban [Urban, Misty]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Oliver Heber Books
Published: 2024-03-05T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“All right, mum, off with you!” Davey said in exasperation as Amaranthe circled the vehicle for the fourth time, watching him cinch the baggage onto the platform at the front of the post chaise. “If I let any of your fribbles tumble into the dirt of the road, I’m no true Welshman.”

“I didn’t pack any fribbles,” she said. “They’re too heavy. You marked Joseph’s luggage, I hope? I’m sure he forgot. He and Miss Pettigrew will part with us at Bristol, and I don’t want to send the wrong bags.”

She inspected the wheels and axles of the hired coach, though she had no way of knowing if it was in good condition. Grey had hired the chaise and horses and it turned out Inez knew the post boy, who was another lascar like her father, a sailor of South Indian descent who had stayed in England when his crew was put out of work and had been making a living at odd jobs since. He spoke limited English, but he would perch atop one of the horses to guide them on the road and then return these animals when they changed teams at the next post. Amaranthe offered him a smile and he smiled back, showing several missing teeth.

“Much of Bristol’s sea traffic comes from the slave trade.” Camilla clutched Amaranthe’s hand. Amaranthe was becoming more accustomed to the casual and frequent touch, though Camilla’s unhesitant trust still took her aback. Amaranthe couldn’t recall as a young child that she had ever held an adult’s hand. Though the youngest and from a caring home, she had been a cautious and reserved child, hesitant to rely on anyone.

She was relying on Grey now to make this journey with her, walking backward into the life she’d left long ago. Not for the first time, she wondered what threats and bitter memories lay in store for her.

“There will be ships from all over in Bristol harbor,” Amaranthe said. “Europe and the Middle East. Africa. The Americas. Perhaps a ship visiting some remote and undiscovered island will bring back a wonder we’ve never dreamed.”

“Mr. John Wesley set up his first Methodist chapel in Bristol,” Camilla said, her expression somber. She had been vocal in her disappointment that Amaranthe and Grey were both leaving, but as attempts to talk them out of their decision had proven unsuccessful, she’d resigned herself to being abandoned for a fortnight or more. As recourse she had contented herself with studying everything about Bristol that the ducal library could yield.

Amaranthe hoped they would not be gone longer than a fortnight. It would take some days to travel to Callington, but she planned only to show her face, say a few encouraging things to Favella, make sure her cousin’s wife had reliable help with the babe, and then depart before Reuben could take any evil ideas into his head.

Depart with her Book of Hours in hand, if all went well.

She’d been waiting for this opportunity for years, dreaming of it.

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