My Favorite Major (Heroes Returned Book 1) (23 page)

“
I saved your sister’s life, and I took a bullet to my shoulder in the process.”

The blackguard mentioned Cordie. He must truly want Tristan’s help. “And you want me to do something about Blackaby?”

Haversham’s grin was back, firmly in place. “He is a thorn in my side.”

Tristan shook his head, not sure why he was even entertaining such an idea. “And what is in it for me?”

“
Ah, the most mercenary of the Averys, are you?” Haversham draped his arm around Tristan’s shoulders and directed him towards the Hazard table, making it appear that the two of them were interested in the play. “How about when I next see Miss Greywood, I put in a good word for you?”

The libertine’s mention of Phoebe made Tristan’s vision turn a bit blurry. “How about,” he ground through his teeth, “you stay away from Miss Greywood altogether?”

“
Deal.” Haversham smacked Tristan’s back once more. “Good luck, Avery.”

As Tristan turned and started towards the Runner along the far wall, he wasn’t quite certain how the marquess had managed to get him to do his bidding. Heaven help him if anyone else figured out Phoebe was his weakness. He pushed thoughts of his brother’s fiancée out of his mind and refocused on Blackaby, just a few feet away from him now. Tristan sighed. He might as well use this situation to his benefit, or to Philip’s benefit, as the case may be.

He forced a smile to his face. “I don’t suppose you’ve had any luck locating, Mr. Mason, have you?”

Blackaby folded his arms across his chest. “Have any of your Irish guards spotted the fellow?”

So despite him doggedly trailing Haversham’s every step, Blackaby was well aware of the goings on at Clayworth House. “Mason won’t find Haversham, he’ll find Moore.”

“
Haversham always finds trouble.”

Truer words were never spoken. Still… “I owe Moore my life. He’s more like a brother than…well, more so than my own brothers in a lot of ways.” Tristan winced at the thought of losing his friend. “My Irish guards can spot Mason, but I’d feel better if you were watching Moore and his wife instead of Haversham. Can I hire you to do so?”

Amelia hastened to Philip’s side when the men entered the drawing room once they’d finished their port. After their afternoon together, she wanted him all to herself, but for now, she’d settle for linking her arm with his and smiling at their family and friends. Soon enough she’d be back in his arms, back in his bed, and in the morning they’d start for Nottinghamshire.

As soon as she reached him, she could tell something was wrong. He’d lost a bit of the twinkle his eyes had sported ever since their afternoon interlude. She reached a hand out to him and whispered, “What’s wrong?”

A forced smile settled on his face, and he shook his head. “It’s nothing, my love.”

He was lying. She could see it clearly in his visage. “It’s not nothing. Are you in pain? Shall I call for Doctor Watts?”

Philip brushed his hand across her cheek, making tingles race down her spine. “I am fine. No need to worry about me.”

She’d always worry about him. Until her dying breath. But before she could say as much, Captain Avery called from across the room, “Aww, look at the happy newlyweds.”

“
Russell!” Cordie complained.

Philip leaned close, dipped his head, and kissed Amelia’s cheek for all to see. “Nothing is wrong, my love,” he whispered for her ears only. Then he stood his tallest and turned his attention back to the captain. “You are a nuisance, Russ.”

Captain Avery only laughed and gestured Amelia and Philip towards the more occupied side of the drawing room. And though Philip then chatted with his friend and the Clayworths as though nothing was amiss, Amelia couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible had happened. But she held her tongue, adopted an air of nonchalance, and waited until they were alone, once again, in her chambers.

She dismissed her maid as soon as they stepped over her threshold, not wanting to wait any longer to find out what was bothering her husband. Amelia spun to face Philip and folded her arms across her chest. “Something’s happened. What is it?”

A look of bemusement settled on his face. “How can you tell?”

How could she not? “I can see it in your eyes. I can…feel it.”

Philip heaved a sigh, then crossed the floor to where Amelia stood. He slid one arm around her waist and towed her towards him. “You can feel it?”

The intensity of his stare stole Amelia’s breath momentarily and she nodded in response for fear that her voice would come out a croak. Philip dipped his head towards hers and dropped a kiss on her brow.

“
Something did happen, but I didn’t want to ruin your evening.”

“
What is it?” she asked, clutching his jacket in her hands.

He winced just a bit. “I spoke with your father this evening.”

“
Papa?” That was certainly the last thing she expected him to say.

Philip nodded. “I thought it would be best to smooth everything over with him, to start over from this morning.”

She couldn’t love him anymore than she did in that moment. “For me?”

His brow furrowed in disappointment. “It didn’t turn out like I’d hoped, Amelia. Not like I’d planned. Not at all.”

Amelia could only blink at him.

“
He doesn’t approve of me. I don’t believe he ever will.”

Papa just didn’t know him well enough. In time, he would see how noble Philip was and—

“
He had his heart set on Mason as a son, it seems.”

It was a miracle Papa had allowed her to cry off in the first place. Amelia shook her head. “Once he gets to know you—”

“
He told me he’s leaving his fortune to Mason.”

Amelia’s knees weakened. If Philip hadn’t had his arm around her waist, she would have toppled over. Mason was after Papa’s fortune. That’s why he’d shot Alan in the first place. “He can’t.”

Philip tucked a curl behind Amelia’s ear. “I’m afraid he wouldn’t listen to me.”

No, of course he wouldn’t. Papa was nothing if not stubborn, especially since he didn’t care for Philip. Still… “When Mason finds out…”
He’ll kill Papa
. She couldn’t say the words aloud, but they echoed in her heart.

“
I tried to tell him.”

A chill raced down Amelia’s spine. “I’ll make him listen.” She pulled out of Philip’s embrace and bolted for the door.

Once in the corridor, she raced to her parents’ chamber, then knocked. Then she knocked again. “Papa!” she called, but there was no answer. Amelia pushed open the door, only to find the room completely empty.

She stepped back into the hallway and looked at the room again. This was the room her parents had stayed in. Where were they? She started back down the corridor, passing Philip and her chamber, heading straight for the staircase. Amelia descended the steps two at a time and thankfully found Higgins in the grand entryway.

“
My parents,” she said, trying to catch her breath.

The butler took pity on her and offered her a hand to steady her. “Mr. and Mrs. Pritchard left this evening, ma’am.”

This evening? Amelia thought she might be sick. “They can’t be gone.”

Higgins frowned. “They departed immediately after Major Moore met with Mr. Pritchard.”

The room spun a bit in Amelia’s vision. They’d headed for home. Where else would they go? No one with any sense would leave London in the dead of night. However, her parents were both more than furious. Safety didn’t seem to be their highest priority. “I need to catch them,” she said, wishing the entry way would stop spinning.

“
I—I,” the butler stuttered.

“
Amelia,” Philip’s voice came from the staircase.

She turned towards her husband, her lower lip quivering. “They’re gone, Philip. They must have started for home. We have to find them.”

He descended the final step and released a sigh. “Not tonight.” He shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”

But if her parents were traveling westward, she needed to as well. “We have to,” she pressed.

A muscle twitched near Philip’s right eye. “If your parents are foolish enough to travel at night, then their consequences rest on their own shoulders. I will not put your life at risk. I will
not
, Amelia. We’ll leave at first light, if you’d like, but I will not put you in danger this evening.”

Amelia’s shoulders sagged forward. How many hours’ lead would her parents have on them? Hopefully, they’d stop somewhere outside London and wouldn’t risk highwaymen or uncertain roads this evening. “At first light?” she asked, hating the worry she heard in her voice.

“
You have my word,” her husband promised.

Upon second thought, Philip surmised, they probably should have departed the previous evening. After all, his wife hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep all night. Though he’d held her in his arms and tried his best to assuage her fears, Amelia never relaxed, never dozed off, and at the first hint of light from the window, she’d bolted out of bed.

Philip pushed up on his elbows and frowned at his wife. “I don’t suppose I could talk you into taking breakfast before we dash out the front door?”

Amelia folded her arms across her chest as though to comfort herself. “Can’t we take a little something with us to break our fast?”

She seemed so pensive, so anguished, he couldn’t refuse her. “Of course, love,” he said, then swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

The rest of the morning was a bit of a blur as Byrne and Kelly readied Clayworth’s borrowed coach and then they were off, leaving a pink sky behind them as they headed west on the Bath Road.

After little more than an hour outside of London, Philip frowned at his wife on the bench across from him, still holding a barely nibbled on apple in her hands. A bird would have eaten more. He heaved a sigh, then reached across the coach and touched Amelia’s leg. “Starving yourself isn’t going to do anyone any good.”

“
I’m just not hungry, Philip.”

He moved across the carriage to sit beside her and draped his arm around her shoulders. “Everything will be fine. We’ll catch up to your parents either on the road or once we arrive in Kidwelly. Either way, they’re safe for now. Mason couldn’t possibly have learned your father’s intention. So your parents aren’t in any real danger. Not until Mason discovers the game has changed.”