“I’ve been looking after myself on those streets since I was a little girl. It’s kind of you to offer, but I can’t have a duke come to visit. If there is something amiss at the school, you’d frighten them into ceasing their behavior, but they’d only start again once you’d left.” She stood and stared down at him with a wistful gaze. “I am going to miss you.”
“No, you won’t, because I am accompanying you.” He held up a hand to stay her protest. “I agree, you can not have a duke poking around the school, but you could have the duke’s steward.”
“But you don’t have a steward.”
He stood and gave a slight bow. “Actually, I do, and would you believe he could be my twin brother?”
“How do I look?” Garret stood in the lamplight. He wore black boots and breeches, with a white shirt open at the neck. His thick, powder-free hair had been tied back into a cue.
Oh my , he’s blond, just like in my dream. Cara swallowed and croaked out, “Fine.” She should never have agreed to this.
“Remember, I’m Mr. Stone if anyone asks.”
Garret took the lamp and led her down one of the back hallways of his townhouse. Though it was the middle of the night, she still feared they’d be caught. “What will the servants do if someone comes to call?”
“They’ll say I’m not available. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve tried to avoid the Ton. Stop worrying.”
“I can’t help it. Are you sure you want to do this?” Everything about Garret appeared different tonight. He had a sparkle in his eye and even his speech seemed more relaxed.
“Yes. Now hurry.” He led them out into the mews, where the secretary had saddled two horses.
Cara was glad to see Garret rode Storm, but she eyed her little mare with trepidation. “I hope she’s gentle.” The animal did a little sidestep and Cara moved away. What did Rachel see in horses? She now wished she’d taken more opportunity to ride in London. On the few occasions she’d needed to take a long journey, she’d always felt as if she were slipping down the horse’s side.
Garret had to help her, even with the mounting block, but she noticed he removed his hands as soon as she was settled. He’d kept his word about not touching her, but at times she would catch him watching her in a way that made it impossible for her to sit still.
They traveled in silence for almost an hour. Fortunately, the weather was warm and they didn’t need their hoods. It was difficult enough to find landmarks in the dark. At last, Cara spotted the familiar little house that had been her home for the last fourteen years.
Now that she was so close, she couldn’t wait to see Papa. Garret didn’t need to help her down. She slipped off the side of the horse, tethered her, and hurried up the short path.
Papa opened the door before she got there and stood with his arms open, his shock of white hair and crooked nose a welcome sight. She ran into the familiar shelter, loving the smell of cigar smoke and mustiness she associated with the man who’d raised her.
“Let me look at you.” The Vicar McClure squinted a bit, then broke into a smile. “I’ve missed you, Scheherezade.”
“I’ve missed you, too, Papa.” She backed out of her father’s embrace and turned to Garret. “Papa, this is . . . Mr. Stone.” Hopefully the Good Lord would forgive her for lying to Papa, but Garret had insisted no one know who he really was.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Stone.” They shook hands. “I’m glad the duke saw fit to have someone escort my daughter home, but I have to admit to some surprise when she wrote you were also going to inquire into the disappearance of the children. He must be a decent fellow.”
“There are those who would question that vicar, but I have it on good authority that he does his best.”
“Come in. The Widow Carmichael brought over a stew. Would you like some?”
Garret stepped forward. “Yes, and after that I’d like to speak with you
“No, you won’t, because I am accompanying you.” He held up a hand to stay her protest. “I agree, you can not have a duke poking around the school, but you could have the duke’s steward.”
“But you don’t have a steward.”
He stood and gave a slight bow. “Actually, I do, and would you believe he could be my twin brother?”
“How do I look?” Garret stood in the lamplight. He wore black boots and breeches, with a white shirt open at the neck. His thick, powder-free hair had been tied back into a cue.
Oh my , he’s blond, just like in my dream. Cara swallowed and croaked out, “Fine.” She should never have agreed to this.
“Remember, I’m Mr. Stone if anyone asks.”
Garret took the lamp and led her down one of the back hallways of his townhouse. Though it was the middle of the night, she still feared they’d be caught. “What will the servants do if someone comes to call?”
“They’ll say I’m not available. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve tried to avoid the Ton. Stop worrying.”
“I can’t help it. Are you sure you want to do this?” Everything about Garret appeared different tonight. He had a sparkle in his eye and even his speech seemed more relaxed.
“Yes. Now hurry.” He led them out into the mews, where the secretary had saddled two horses.
Cara was glad to see Garret rode Storm, but she eyed her little mare with trepidation. “I hope she’s gentle.” The animal did a little sidestep and Cara moved away. What did Rachel see in horses? She now wished she’d taken more opportunity to ride in London. On the few occasions she’d needed to take a long journey, she’d always felt as if she were slipping down the horse’s side.
Garret had to help her, even with the mounting block, but she noticed he removed his hands as soon as she was settled. He’d kept his word about not touching her, but at times she would catch him watching her in a way that made it impossible for her to sit still.
They traveled in silence for almost an hour. Fortunately, the weather was warm and they didn’t need their hoods. It was difficult enough to find landmarks in the dark. At last, Cara spotted the familiar little house that had been her home for the last fourteen years.
Now that she was so close, she couldn’t wait to see Papa. Garret didn’t need to help her down. She slipped off the side of the horse, tethered her, and hurried up the short path.
Papa opened the door before she got there and stood with his arms open, his shock of white hair and crooked nose a welcome sight. She ran into the familiar shelter, loving the smell of cigar smoke and mustiness she associated with the man who’d raised her.
“Let me look at you.” The Vicar McClure squinted a bit, then broke into a smile. “I’ve missed you, Scheherezade.”
“I’ve missed you, too, Papa.” She backed out of her father’s embrace and turned to Garret. “Papa, this is . . . Mr. Stone.” Hopefully the Good Lord would forgive her for lying to Papa, but Garret had insisted no one know who he really was.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Stone.” They shook hands. “I’m glad the duke saw fit to have someone escort my daughter home, but I have to admit to some surprise when she wrote you were also going to inquire into the disappearance of the children. He must be a decent fellow.”
“There are those who would question that vicar, but I have it on good authority that he does his best.”
“Come in. The Widow Carmichael brought over a stew. Would you like some?”
Garret stepped forward. “Yes, and after that I’d like to speak with you
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