Lord of Scoundrels - Loretta Chase [119]
"Not now," he said crossly. "I haven't time to pick you up. Get off me, Jess. I've got to go to bleeding Postbridge."
She drew back abruptly. "Now?"
"Of course now." He edged away. "I'll lay you any odds the bitch is there already— and the sooner I get this damn nonsense over with, the better. The storm's letting up, which means I should have something like light for a few more hours. Which means I'm less likely to ride into a ditch and break my neck." He quickly skirted the desk and headed for the door.
"Dain, try not to explode upon them," she called after him.
He paused and threw her an exasperated look.
"I thought I was supposed to mow her down," he said.
"Yes, but try not to terrify the child. If he bolts, you'll have the devil's own time catching him." She hurried up to him. "Maybe I should come along."
"Jessica, I can handle this," he said. "I am not completely incompetent."
"But you are not accustomed to dealing with children," she said. "Their behavior can be very puzzling at times."
"Jessica, I am going to collect the little beast," he said grimly. "I am not going to puzzle about anything. I shall collect him and bring him to you, and you may puzzle over him to your heart's content."
He moved to the door and jerked it open. "For starters, you can figure out what to do with him, because I'm hanged if I have a clue."
* * *
Dain decided to take his coachman with him, but not the coach. Phelps knew every road, path, and cattle track in Dartmoor. Even if the storm rebuilt and headed west with them, Phelps would get them promptly to Postbridge.
Besides, if he could help his mistress make trouble for her husband, Phelps could damned well help Dain get out of it.
Dain wasn't sure how Jessica had managed to talk his loyal coachman into betraying his trust these last weeks, but he saw soon enough that she didn't have the man completely wrapped around her finger. When Jessica rushed out to the stables to make a last plea to accompany them, Phelps negotiated the compromise.
"Mebbe if Her Ladyship could make up a parcel for the lad, she'll feel some' at easier in her mind," the coachman suggested. "She be worried he'll be hungry, 'n mebbe cold, 'n you be in too much hurry to heed it. Mebbe she might find a toy or some' at to keep him busy."
Dain looked at Jessica.
"I suppose that must do," she said. "Though it would be better if I were there."
"You will not be there, so just put that idea out of your head," said Dain. "I will give you a quarter hour to make up the damned parcel, and that's all."
Fifteen minutes later, Dain sat upon his horse, glaring at the font door of Athcourt. He waited another five minutes, then set out down the long drive, leaving Phelps to deal with parcels and Her Ladyship.
Phelps caught up with him a few yards past Athcourt's main gateway. "'Twere the toy what slowed her," he explained as they rode on. "Went up to the North Tower, she did, 'n found one o' them paper peepshows. A sea battle, 't were, she said."
"That must be Nelson and Parker at Copenhagen," said Dain. "If it was one of mine, that is," he added with a laugh. "I daresay that's the only one I hadn't time to destroy before I was sent to school. Got it on my eighth birthday. One needn't wonder how she found it. My lady could find the proverbial needle in a haystack. That's one of her special talents, Phelps."
"Ess, I reckon it don't work out so bad, seeing as how Your Lordship loses some'at now and again." Phelps eyed his master's left arm, which Dain had freed from the sling the instant he was out of sight of the house. "Lost your arm saddle, did you, me lord?"
Dain glanced down. "Good heavens, so I have. Well, no time to look for it, is there?"
They rode on for a few minutes in silence.
"Mebbe I shouldn't've helped her look for the lad," Phelps said finally. "But I been worrit ever since I heerd ol' Annie Geach'd cocked up her toes at last."
Phelps explained that the elderly