Dominic (50 page)

Vale
slanted
him a
look,
win
c
ing
at
the
bruise
that
was fast fo
r
m
ing on his friend’s jaw where his final jab had
bought about the conclusion of their match
.
“
Look on
them
as
proof
of
your
courage,”
he
said.
“It
certainly
was a
good outing
and
m
ust be
repea
t
ed. It was no easy victory on
m
y part. You are a v
e
ry worthy adversary.”

A
fact
which
Vale
thought
necessary to repeat
to
Drum
m
ond upon his return from
Kennington
, whilst the
three
friends sat
over
su
p
per.
Once
t
h
e
m
eal
was
over
they retired
to
the
taproom intent
on
playing
cards
before retirin
g
; all appearing in
exceedin
g
l
y
good spirits.

“By-the-bye, saw a friend of yours changing horses at The Bull this
m
orning,” stated Drum
m
ond, dealing the cards for a ga
m
e of Faro. “Looked to be in a devil of a hurry.”

“Really,”
said
Vale,
giving
his
a
tt
e
ntion
to
h
i
s
car
d
s and taking
n
ot the
s
lig
ht
est i
n
te
r
est in the na
r
rative.

“
W
roxha
m
,
” stated Drummond.

Vale sat upright in his chair. “
W
roxham
you say
?
”

“Aye,
had
so
m
e
yellow
haired
chit
with
hi
m
.
Couldn’t
see
her
clearly
as
she
re
m
ai
n
ed
in
the
coach,
but
lay
you
a monkey he was off to the border...”

Vale
t
h
rew
his
c
a
rds
o
n
to
the table and rose so quickly that he over-turned his chair. “
W
hen?” he de
m
anded fiercely.

“As I said, this
m
orning.”

“
W
ha
t
ti
m
e?”

“I don’t recall, so
m
eti
m
e
around eleven I think.”

His lordship swore violently,
bringing
his fist down upon the table. Though not knowing it for fact, he could well
guess
whom
W
roxham had
i
n
his
carriage,
and
his te
m
per
rose
out
of
control,
rendering
him deaf
to
his co
m
panion’s questions at h
i
s
actions.
W
ithout
giving
any explanation,
he
strode
out of
the
taproo
m
,
calling
for
his curricle as
h
e went.

“But ‘tis dark sir,” protested the ostler.

“I
shall
see
well
enough,”
s
n
apped
his
lordship.
“Do
as
I say and have the horses put to.”

“If that is what you wish, sir, but...”

“
Do it!
”

The
ostler
q
uailed before
the
fury
in
Vale’s
e
y
es
and hastening
to
the
stables,
s
e
t
about
tacking
up
the
horses.
Knowing
the
ways
of
the
gentr
y
,
he
realized
that
it
wou
ld not be prudent to cross the e
arl whilst in such a mood
.

Leaving
The
Pheasant
at
a
break
-
neck
speed,
the roads appearing
unfa
m
i
l
iar
to
him
in
the
fitful
m
oonlight,
Vale soon
found
it
necessary
to
bring his
horses
t
o
a
m
ore reasonable
pace.
W
roxham had so
m
e
eleven hours head start and would, even though Do
m
inic drove through the night
and changed
horses frequently, arrive at the border well in advance of him. Howev
e
r, even supposing that
W
r
oxh
a
m com
m
anded a like spee
d
, he was not likely to arrive
m
uch before evening on the following day and he reasoned t
h
at no
m
arriage
could take
place
until
t
h
e
next
morning.
T
herefore, he had every chance of arriving at
Gretna
in
time
to
prevent
it
from
taking
place
.
The thought
that
W
r
oxh
a
m
m
ay
have
taken
Sophie
by
force crossed his
m
ind, for surely she would not comply to such a sche
m
e
willingly. Had he driven her to it, or was she fearful that Thornton would still t
r
y to lay
c
l
aim to he
r
? Whatever her reason, he cursed his actions in co
m
i
ng to
Kennington
when
he
should
have
remained
in
London
and secured
his
own,
therefore
rendering her unattainable
to
W
roxh
a
m.
Whether
she
wished
it
or
not,
she
must
m
arry
hi
m
. Not
W
r
oxha
m
. Mo
s
t
definitely
not
W
r
oxh
a
m!

Chapter
Seventeen

Sophie sat on the settle in the private p
a
rlor of The Greyhound
Inn,
her
m
orning
m
eal
re
m
aining
untouched on the table, whilst Lord
W
roxh
a
m stood tensely by the window, g
a
zing over the cobbled yard. They had each spent a restless night. Vale being upper
m
o
s
t in their thoughts, they were both fearf
u
l of
m
eeting him for their own
reasons.
W
r
oxh
a
m re
m
ained
in
a
state
of
unrest
lest they should be
discovered;
whilst
S
ophie wished nothing more
than
that
she
had re
m
ained
at
Blake
House.
The at
m
osphere between the two of them was not
of the best, both feeling decidedly out of fr
a
m
e with the other.

Although reluctant,
S
ophie had co
m
plied with his lordships
wishes
and
changed
into
a
gown
at
their
fir
s
t stop
outside
London
and
she
now
plucked
nervously
at her
skirts,
her
hands
in
the
i
r
agitation
unable
to
re
m
ain idle.

“I cannot believe you found it necessary to leave a note for
the
d
uchess,”
co
m
plained
Lord
W
r
oxh
a
m.
“You
m
ay
as
well have informed
the whole of London of our intentions.
Our
journey
was
to
have
re
m
ained
undisclosed until we co
u
ld r
e
turn as
m
an and wife.”

“I
co
u
l
d n
o
t
lea
v
e
t
h
e
d
uke
and
d
u
chess with
o
ut
so
m
e words of explanation and expressing
m
y appreciation for their
kindness
to
m
e,”
Sophie replied
quietly.
“They
took
m
e in and treated
m
e as their
own at a ti
m
e
when I was in great need. Indeed, if it had not been for Do
m
...” she stopped i
mm
ediately, realizing that to even mention his na
m
e
wou
l
d
only
serve
to
infla
m
e
Lord
W
roxh
a
m
’s anger.