Walton let down the steps and opened the carriage door. Lily took a deep breath. “I don’t know how to thank you for everything you’ve done.”
“Then don’t. It was my pleasure.” Ned didn’t want her gratitude. He climbed out to hand her down, and at the same moment the front door of Ashendon House opened and Cal and his wife came rushing out. Lily practically fell out of the carriage into their arms.
Hugging, kissing, laughing, weeping, they walked slowly back into the house. Ned gave Walton an enormous tip, gave him the next two days free and sent him off with the horses and carriage for a well-earned rest.
“Coming in?” Cal stood at the front door, waiting. It was less an invitation than an order.
Inside the house pandemonium reigned. As Ned entered, two young women dressed in bedgowns and loosely fastened dressing gowns came flying down the stairs in bare feet, shrieking. They embraced Lily repeatedly, hurling questions at her so fast they would have been impossible to answer, even if they hadn’t all been laughing and weeping and hugging and exclaiming in dismay over Lily’s bruised face.
A little overwhelmed by the outburst of female emotions, Ned was relieved when Lady Ashendon finally said, “Come along up to bed, girls. It’s late, we’re all tired and poor Lily looks completely worn out. Your questions will keep. Plenty of time in the morning to hear what happened.” She made arrangements for one of the maids to provide beds for Betty and Jimmy and whatever else they needed, and ushered the three girls upstairs.
The girls hurried ahead in a tight clump, still talking. Just before Lady Ashendon reached the first landing, she glanced back at Ned and said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Galbraith, you must think us complete savages—we are all at sixes and sevens in the joy of Lily’s homecoming—but let me say how truly grateful we are to you for returning our darling Lily to us.”
Ned bowed. He hated being thanked.
Lady Ashendon added, “You will call tomorrow, I hope?” Again it wasn’t quite an invitation.
He glanced up, saw Lily looking down at him and heard himself say, “Of course, Lady Ashendon.”
The ladies disappeared, their voices died away and silence fell. Ned turned to take his leave. “I’ll be off then, Cal. I’m—”
“Step into the sitting room a moment, Galbraith, if you please.” Cal seemed a bit stiff. Ned wanted to find his own bed, but assuming Cal had questions he wanted to ask without the ladies present, he entered the sitting room. A cozy fire was burning and he crossed the room to warm himself in front of it. “So, Cal, you have questions for me, I presume?”
“The messenger who brought your note—”
“Oh, you got it. Good. No problem about paying him the extra, I hope. He must have ridden through the night.” For a man whose sister had just been returned safe and sound, Cal seemed very tense.
Cal dismissed the matter of the money with a curt gesture. He didn’t offer Ned a seat; he just stood with his legs braced apart, eyeing him with a grim expression.
“The messenger told me when you carried my sister into that godforsaken village inn, she was naked but for a fur rug.”
“Not naked—under the rug, she was wearing one of my shirts.”
Cal’s fists clenched. “Why was she virtually naked? Did that bastard—?”
“No, that was my doing. I made her strip—”
“Your doing?” Cal took two steps and grabbed Ned by the throat. “You stripped my baby sister naked, and—”
Ned broke his hold and pushed him away. “Calm down, you fool, it’s not what you think. She stripped herself.” Some demon of provocation made him add, “And if you haven’t noticed, she’s no longer a baby.”
“You bastard.” Cal threw a punch.
Ned blocked it and shoved Cal backward. “Oh, don’t be such a fool! She was soaked to the skin and half frozen, so what would you have me do? Let her catch her death of pneumonia? Besides, she stank to high heaven.”
Cal said belligerently, “My sister does not stink!”
“She does when she’s fallen in a ditch full of God knows what. She was covered in mud and stank like a pigsty.”
There was a short silence. Cal’s fists remained bunched, the red light of battle in his eye fainter but still present. Ned, who’d kept a rein on his temper until now, felt it slipping. Much could be forgiven a man still on edge because his sister had been abducted and he hadn’t yet heard the full story, but Cal ought to know better.
“Dammit, Cal, what kind of a man do you think I am? Do you honestly believe I would debauch any vulnerable innocent, let alone my friend’s younger sister? I might have a reputation as a rake, but I’ve never dallied with innocents of any kind—and you know it!” He glared at his friend. “You mule-headed fool! Why the hell would I bring Lily home—let alone hire a chaperone for her—if I’d debauched her?”
“What chaperone?”
“Betty, the innkeeper’s daughter—short young female, freckles, blue dress. Your wife just arranged for one of your maids to find beds for her and her brother.”
“Oh, her.”
“Yes, her! Why do you think I brought a couple of young rustics with me? To show them the sights of London?” He snorted. “I also hired Betty to sleep on a trundle bed in Lily’s bedchamber at the inn while I slept on the stairs outside the door—and blasted uncomfortable it was too, you ungrateful sod!”
There was a short, fraught silence. Cal’s fists slowly unclenched. Tension visibly drained from him. He waved Ned to a seat and said wearily, “I’m sorry, Galbraith—I do know you’re a man of honor. It’s just that—”
“You’ve been beside yourself with anxiety,” Ned said. “I understand. She’s a sweet girl, your sister.” He dropped
