Damn! This was gripping his heart and soul and confusing him again. He needed to be away soon.
Perth knocked on the already ajar door to the library and walked into the room. Max shook Perth’s hand.
“How is she doing?” He tried to keep his anxiety from his voice.
“Very good. The lass is getting better. Her body is healing faster since she has nourishment. Aye.”
“I am leaving for Harlow’s. I want to enlist his help in this Nash Slade business. My household will keep her safe while I am away for a few days. I would appreciate you keeping a check on her as often as you can.”
“I will be glad to watch her. Truthfully, I am utterly amazed at her spirit and her health. She suffered some abrasions from falling during the storm, but there is evidence of deeper injuries that have healed. Losing a wee bairn…” He reached for the brandy decanter at the edge of Max’s desk.
“She was always a determined woman. We were to be betrothed formally before she disappeared and ended up married to Tipton.”
“Aye. I understand your devotion to her, but dinnae get yourself hurt again. She belongs to another. We can get her healthy, but he can demand her home, and he wouldnae likely understand another man keeping her hidden. Be careful. Dinnae give him reason to hurt her.”
“You are wise, Perth. You have always given sound counsel. I will be careful—with my heart, and hers. It is why I am leaving for Harlow’s today. I need some space. And I want to find out about Slade, whoever he is. The whole thing seems odd. What was he searching for in her father’s home? And why is the property boarded? Viscount Winters is a hard man. What is their real connection? There are many questions. It was an unlucky thing that her parents died when they did. And together, which was even worse. Meg has undoubtedly suffered.”
“Aye. ’Tis true enough. An orphan in a day, as they say.” The man took another draw of brandy. “’Tis good brandy. I probably should not imbibe any at all. The room upstairs is on the warm side with a roaring fire always going.” The man wiped a bit of sweat from his brow as emphasis.
“Ha! Mother sometimes gets overzealous in her care. She used to sweat any illness from me. I will give orders to let it cool a bit…not too cool, but enough that you do not feel the need to peel off your waistcoat.” He slapped his friend lightly on his back.
“She will be fine, my friend. I know you will do what is best for you and Lady Tipton.”
At the mention of Tipton, Max felt himself sober. “I appreciate your assist here, Perth. I will leave now. I have already asked Cabot to have a room made up for you. It is ridiculous for you to be riding back and forth this often in this weather. I insist.”
“Thank you. I will head for my home and be back to take you up on that.”
“It would be good to have you here while I am out. I will feel better. Keep a close eye on her and thank you for your bearing with Shep. That dog has been her only constant. I would not separate them.”
“Aye, I am glad you brought the dog up. The lass was right. Shep had been injured. He has two broken ribs. The most I could do was bandage it. It will mend. He will be good as new in a few weeks.” The doctor took the last sip of his brandy and set his glass on the corner of the desk. “You have strong feelings for the lass.”
Max gazed into his glass. “Yes. I tried not to allow it, but devil take it! I need space.”
“Aye.” Perth paused. “Did I hear that ye are ready to go? Shall we leave together?”
* * *
The road to Harlow’s was quiet, and Max enjoyed the tranquility. The early frost from the night before made the branches and leaves of the trees sparkle, and the rime on the blades of grass shimmered alongside the road in the new light of day. Only the sound of Willow’s hooves striking the hard dirt road disturbed the calmness. His own musings distracted him, and the three hours to Harlow’s estate fairly flew. A drive flanked by open iron gates appended to massive brick posts greeted him.
He leaned over and gently rubbed his horse’s neck. “Thank you, my friend. I will see you rewarded.” Willow answered him with a slight whinny and a nod; he was almost certain she understood him. An amused smile lit up his face.
Max knew the way to the stables and took his horse there, handing the reins to the groom. “Ah, Justin.” He dismounted. “Please take good care of her. I promised her some of your excellent oats.”
“Yes, my lord,” Justin answered, taking Willow’s leads. “She will be ready when you call for her.” He gave a slight bow before turning and guiding Max’s horse to her usual stall toward the back.
Whistling and suddenly feeling as if a weight had been lifted, Max took the front steps to the white Georgian mansion quickly, surprised to see Harlow’s butler, Fitz, already waiting for him. Being away from his home suddenly felt freeing, and he hoped it would give him a chance to clear his head.
“Greetings, my lord. I trust your trip was unremarkable this fine morning.”
“It was pleasant enough.” Max noted Fitz’s loud tone—almost a bellow. Perhaps the man was losing his hearing.
“Very good, my lord. His lordship awaits you in the study. Please follow me,” the stout, balding man declared piercingly.
“Thank you, Fitz.” Max followed the butler down the dark-paneled hall to an open doorway, bright from the clear winter day shining in through the windows opposite the entryway.
“There you are.” He looked in the butler’s direction. “That will be all, Fitz.”
“Yes, my lord.” The older retainer bowed and closed the doors to the
