“said the earl to his wife after Chryse and Kate had left the tent. He had declined to read Lady Trent’s letter. Maretha had suggested in the end that those who could ride would leave within the hour, while Charity, the baby, Lucias, and the children would be escorted to the nearest safe manor by slow stages along back paths the locals knew, and wait there until they could be safely sent for. But none of this could be accomplished unless the earl agreed to it, since he owned the horses and carri...ages that made travel possible. Only Julian had brought his own mount. “How can you mean that?” Maretha stood amidst the disorder left by the troops. The earl reclined in a chair, still maintaining the air of studied indifference that he had held throughout the conference. “It will take us at least five weeks to return, perhaps more with the weather as it is now. And after the turn of the year and the Festival of Lights, it will be too late.” “Mother and Son, Maretha,” he swore, abruptly losing his temper and standing up.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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