“I would like to leave London, Captain Dawson.” Juliet hoped that didn’t sound too rash. “I’m certain Philippe will try to find me wherever I am in the city. If I leave and he is unaware of it, then I may be safe until my brother returns.”
“Did you not say he is unlikely to return until almost Christmas?” Amiable frowned. “That is above six months, my lady. Do you have other kinfolk you might stay with for such a long time?”
Her mother’s family in Northumberland would love to have her return. With her aunts and cousins underfoot, however, there would be no way to woo Captain Dawson. Although the long carriage ride to Barwick could be used to her advantage for them to become acquainted. As far as her safety from Philippe was concerned, Northumberland might prove a poor choice. As he would expect a woman alone to go to family, she needed a different place to hide. “Guinevere’s Keep.”
“I beg pardon?” Amiable cocked his head and gave her a charming frown.
“My father’s estate. He acquired it on my tenth birthday and allowed me to name it. At the time I adored Sir Thomas Malory’s Arthurian romances and so it became Guinevere’s Keep.” It had always been her favorite estate to visit. “Very romantic, don’t you think? And how apropos it seems, for my knight in shining armor will be taking me there.”
“Where is this keep, my lady?”
“It’s not an actual castle.” Juliet giggled, nerves breaking through her bravado. “More of a manor house. Near Wigton in Cumberland. Not far from Carlisle.”
“Carlisle?” His eyebrows rose and his whole body stiffened. “Lady Juliet, the place you speak of is more than a week’s journey from London.” He leaned into the corner of the carriage, arms crossed. “Indeed, you forget, my lady, I am in actuality a stranger to you.”
His lowered tone sent a shiver through her. He was right. She didn’t know him. “I beg your pardon, Captain Dawson.” She dropped her gaze to the floor, her heart beating in odd spurts. “I did not mean to presume so much. I had not thought how long the journey would take, only that it is a place I would feel safe.” She whispered, “As I feel safe with you, despite our brief acquaintance.”
She kept her gaze trained on the black leather upholstery, hands clasped tightly on her lap. The carriage rolled on toward Honoria’s. A wonderful thought, to pursue a courtship with Captain Dawson, the most dashing man she had ever met. Pity he had seemed disinclined to flout the boundaries of convention. Apparently even a knight rescuing a fair damsel would not be above society’s reproach. Such a great pity she could not tempt him to accompany her. Days together in the carriage might have encouraged a tender feeling in him for her, one she would return in full.
“You have family at the estate?” He no longer held his shoulders straight with such military precision. Encouraging if not exactly optimistic. He still eyed her warily.
“No. I would not want to go where I had family, for they would be the places Philippe would expect me to go. However, to go to one of my brother’s minor estates, an estate the viscount could have no knowledge of, would confound his search, I’m sure. I believe I will be safe there until my brother’s return.”
“The prospect of such a journey alone would likely deter the man.” The captain’s brooding stare and the almost imperceptible shake of his head persuaded her that he had been deterred as well.
“You have been kindness itself this morning, Captain Dawson.” She smiled and put every ounce of charm into her words. “I cannot thank you enough for your help with Philippe.”
“I am only glad I could be of assistance, my lady.” At last, he relaxed into the seat. “You will now go to your friend’s home after all?”
“Oh, no, Captain Dawson. I will go to Cumberland.”
“Without an escort?” Tension snapped back into his tall frame. “For eight days on the road? My lady…”
Juliet straightened her skirts, refusing to meet his eyes. “I am sorry to so discomfit you, Captain. Yet I fear I must do as I think right in this matter. One unguarded moment, and I could end up married to Philippe for life.” After the cruelties he had shown her at the French Ambassador’s house party, she would rather throw herself from the roof of Dunham House. She had set her course, with or without the captain. “Glynis and I will leave today, as soon as we have taken you—oh I beg your pardon, but I don’t know where you live.”
“My father’s house in Kensington Gardens. Number twenty-three.” His lips twitched.
She knocked on the trap door and changed their direction immediately. She did not wish to worry this kind, valiant man, but she had made her mind up and she doubted she could convince him to accompany her. She chided herself for even having such a foolish notion. A passing fancy only, brought on, perhaps, by the stress of the situation this morning. After all, she had just met this man. She knew absolutely nothing about him or his family.
“Lady Juliet, you cannot attempt such a journey without protection.” He gripped his sword hilt and released it. “Have you no male relative who might accompany you?”
“I am afraid not, Captain Dawson.” Her heart twisted at his concern. “Duncan is the last of the male line. There is no longer even a male cousin amongst our relatives on either side.” She placed a comforting hand on his. “I will be all right, don’t you think? I will have Glynis and the coachman and stable boy. I doubt I will come to grief.” She smiled, though her heart beat alarmingly fast. Only some few minutes left with him. They turned the corner into Kensington.
Ignoring the fact he too gazed at her, she memorized his wide, thoughtful brow and bright blue eyes. His full-lipped, sensual mouth she longed to feel on hers even now. That was not to be, alas. She would probably never see him again.
The carriage pulled up in front of a palatial redbrick house with meticulously kept grounds. He lived here? On a captain’s pay? Not a chance. “Who is your father, Captain Dawson?”
“Lord Morley, my lady. Unfortunately, he is not in residence at this time.”
A baron’s son? How bizarre. Not just any baron, either. Morley had a reputation for extreme wealth but a reclusive nature. Rather a mystery in her circles. She did not recall any gossip about his son returning from the colonies. Perhaps that had been a recent development. And why did Amiable have a different family name? Most puzzling. Now she would probably never know.
Amiable had opened his mouth, but when the boy held the door for him, he gave her one intense look, stepped down, and turned to her. “Are you quite sure I cannot dissuade you, Lady Juliet, from this hasty course?” He flexed and released the hand resting on the carriage door. “Would you not rather return to your brother’s house and consider all your options? Going into battle, I have found one must reflect on every detail of each possible alternative, lest in the end you come to grief.” His kind blue eyes searched hers. “Please tell me you will reconsider.”
“Believe me I understand your fears for me, Captain. But I know, deep down, that this journey is right. Aren’t you supposed to listen when your heart tells you something is right?” Her heart lurched at her real meaning. The sincere smile she gave him was the easiest and hardest thing she had ever done. Let him remember her as gracious and strong.
“I suppose you are.” He returned her smile, though with less enthusiasm. “I take my leave of you, then, my lady.” He bowed. “I hope circumstances permit that we may meet again. Until then I wish you a safe journey and a pleasant stay in the north.”
“Thank you, Captain. I hope the same for you here in London. Farewell.” No longer able to attempt a smile and afraid to let her dismay be seen, she drew back on the seat.
The coach jerked into motion. He headed toward the steps to the portico and was lost to her sight.
She settled in the seat, and blinked back tears she refused to shed. Resolute, she wanted to plan for her journey. However, a number of problems