“Given his actions to date, I don’t think that’ll deter him,” Charles said.
“More, he seems young enough, arrogant enough, to see it as a challenge.” Gervase’s gaze was hard. “That should work to our advantage.” He looked at Charles. “So how do you want to play this?”
Charles rose. Seated beside him, sensing his impatience, Penny had wondered how much longer he’d stay still. He strode to the hearth, then faced them. “I need one of you to stay here—Ja
ck, for obvious reasons. Gervase—you can get the word out along the coast as well as I. We need to shut the stable door so he can’t bolt.”
Gervase nodded.
Glancing at her, Charles continued, “I’ll go to London.”
“As will I.” Nicholas again struggled forward in the chair.
“No.”
Nicholas looked up, but the edict was unequivocal.
“I’m leaving now—tonight,” Charles said. “I’ll travel straight through and be in London by midday, possibly even before Fothergill. I’ll speak with your father, and Dalziel, and determine our best way forward.” He paused, his gaze on Nicholas’s determined but drawn face, then more quietly added, “I understand your wish to aid your father, but you’re in no condition to do so. A long, jolting journey will land you in a sickbed for days if not longer.”
“He’s my father—”
“Indeed, but I was sent here to deal with this matter.” Charles paused, then added, “You may safely leave it to me. Fothergill won’t succeed—and he will pay.”
“And you needn’t worry about your father, Nicholas, for I’m going to London, too.”
Her voice, so much lighter than theirs, rang like a bell. They all looked at her, but it was Charles’s gaze she met. She held it for a pregnant instant, then softly said, “Either with you, or independently—and, of course, I’ll be calling on Amberly.” She glanced at Nicholas. “Whatever else, he’ll have family beside him through this.”
Nicholas blinked; his dilemma showed plainly in his face—he was too tired to hide it. Should he be grateful to Penny and support her, or side with Charles as instinct prompted and keep her safely at home?
Gervase shifted; Jack frowned. Both were aware of the undercurrents; neither was in a position to say anything, a fact they were forced to accept. They had no authority here.
When, unable to make up his mind, Nicholas said nothing, Penny looked back at Charles. And raised a brow. With him, or by herself…
No real choice for him, either.
His jaw set; the planes of his face hardened, but, stiffly, he inclined his head. “Very well.”
He was too far away for her to read his eyes, but in this, she didn’t need to. She was perfectly aware of the various trains of thought—the swift and decisive plans—running through his head. Those she would deal with later; one step at a time.
She rose, waving the others back as they started to their feet. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I’ll go and pack.” She glanced at Charles. “My carriage or yours?”
He considered, then replied, “Yours will do.”
She nodded and turned for the door. “I’ll give orders to have it prepared. Half an hour, shall we say?”
Glancing back from the door, she saw his lips thin; he nodded curtly. Suppressing a grimly satisfied smile, she opened the door and went on her willful way.
She next saw Charles when she decended the front steps, attired in a comfortable carriage dress and prepared for a long, uncomfortable drive. He was standing with the coachman and groom, confirming his orders. When her boots crunched on the gravel, he turned, flicked a comprehensive glance over her, noting the warm shawl draped over her shoulders, then looked back to the coachman and groom, and gave the word. They scurried to climb up to their perches as he joined her.
He took the door the footman had opened, held it and held out his hand. She put her fingers in his, felt him grip. Hard.
“I am not happy about this.” The words were a growl as he helped her up the carriage steps.
She glanced at him, met his eyes. “I know. But we can’t always have what we want.”
Moving into the carriage, she sat. He looked up at the coachman, nodded, then leapt into the coach, slammed the door, and flung himself on the seat beside her.
Head back against the squabs, he looked up at the coach’s ceiling. “As it happens, I usually do manage to get what I want from women. With you, however…”