The Duke I'm Going to Marry(100)

Ian tightened his grip on the stall gate and nodded. “Summon your friends. I want them in the lodge, guarding Felicity, their weapons at the ready.” Had his gut instinct been wrong? Were more assailants on the loose?

“No worries, Yer Grace,” he said as they walked out to intercept the approaching carriage. “They’re in the kitchen as we speak. I’ll take care of ’em interlopers while ye get yerself to safety.” He raised a fist and shook it at the advancing carriage to emphasize his point.

The morning sun shone on the gleaming black conveyance. Ian shaded his eyes with his hand and gazed into the distance. He grinned. “Quinn, forget my instructions. These are welcome guests.” Though how Dillie managed to obtain a Farthingale carriage and find him here was beyond him. The note he’d left in London with George Farthingale had only mentioned that Dillie and Abner were at the Black Sail Inn due to bad weather and difficulties with the carriage, and that Ian would escort them to Coniston within the next few days.

He stood with arms folded across his chest, waiting for the conveyance to draw to a halt, and then moved to the door as it opened. Dillie fairly flew into his arms. “Ian, you’re here! Thank goodness. I was afraid you’d gone off to... well, I wasn’t certain what you planned to do, just knew it would be something dangerous.”

He frowned, but kissed her soundly on the lips because—damn it—he’d missed her. One look at her and all his concerns simply fled. She was sunshine and meadow flowers. She loved him. It felt so good to have her in his arms. “You ought to be resting your foot. And where did you get these new clothes?”

She had on a simple, blue wool gown, several shades darker than the blue of her eyes. Her hair was pulled back in a bun at the nape of her neck, but some curls had broken loose in the light breeze and now framed her beautiful face.

“The gown is mine. We stopped at Coniston first so I could pack some belongings, and then we came straight here.” He bent to kiss her again, but John Farthingale chose that moment to descend from the carriage. Oh, hell. He did not look at all pleased. No doubt, he’d learned about Dillie’s carriage tipping over and seen Abner Mayhew recovering from his broken leg.

Ian was curious to know just how much else Dillie had told her father. By his angry scowl, Ian figured she’d told him far too much. He had no intention of deceiving the man about what had happened between him and his daughter, but that conversation was better held after the wedding ceremony, when pistols were less likely to be drawn. Specifically, her father’s pistol pointed at his throat. He stifled a sigh. A little discretion on Dillie’s part would have been helpful.

No, the fault was all his. A little restraint on his part would have done the trick. Unfortunately, he’d shown not a whit of it when seducing Dillie and still felt not a whit of remorse. “Welcome, Mr. Farthingale.”

His greeting was met with a grumble. “Good morning, Your Grace.”

Dillie rolled her eyes. “Oh, Father. I asked you not to growl at him. He’ll obtain the special license and marry me as soon as Mother arrives.” She returned her gaze to Ian, and then nudged him. “I think my father needs some reassurance.” He noticed a tinge of apprehension in her eyes as well. “I thought we might have a quiet ceremony at Coniston in a week’s time. We’ve sent word for my mother to join us there. Do you mind?”

Did she doubt that he’d marry her? “It suits me fine. Is that what you tracked me down to ask?”

“No, I had no idea you’d be here.” A light blush stained her cheeks. “You caught me being meddlesome again, but after all that happened at the inn, I grew concerned for Felicity’s safety and thought it a good idea to stop by for a visit. How is she?”

Ian laughed. “Very noisy. She’ll fit right in with the Farthingale clan.”

He wanted to sweep her into his arms and kiss her again. She had been worried about Felicity, realizing as he had that his family might wish to harm the child. She’d dragged her father across the Lake District to offer their protection.

Indeed, she was ridiculously meddlesome. And wonderful. He ought to have been angry, but wasn’t in the least. Dillie cared about him and Felicity, and for a man starved of all affection for most of his life, her caring felt like heaven. “I have the special license with me. We can marry today if you like.”

John Farthingale looked obviously relieved.

“See, Father. I told you all would be well.” She cast Ian a beaming smile, one that came straight from her gentle heart. “Next week will do.”