The winter dawn was a pale glow on the horizon when Anthony strode up to the door and brought the heavy lion-headed knocker down with a crash. At his side, bonny, brave Fenella Deerham stood silent, but he felt her willing him to tread carefully. Odd how she could do that. He'd never in his life been so aware of another person's thoughts. If anyone asked him, he'd wager he could repeat every word that she wasn't saying right now.
By the time the bolt scraped back, he was half frozen and stamping his feet to restore circulation. In the growing light, Fenella looked pale with cold and worry. He wished propriety permitted him to put his arm around her—purely for warmth, of course.
But one did not hug a lady without invitation. Even if she'd been snuggled up against him all night, soft and fragrant and alluringly female.
The door squeaked open to reveal an old man. "Mr. Townsend. We were expecting you."
The butler's words roused tentative hope. "Good morning, Probert. Are the lads here?"
"Yes, sir. They arrived last night."
Anthony drew what felt like his first full breath since he'd discovered Carey missing from Eton. Joy bubbled up inside him like a fountain until he wanted to fling his arms around Fenella and dance into the house.
"Are they well?" she asked, to Anthony's regret withdrawing her hand. Having her on his arm gave him the same sense of rightness he'd felt when he first saw the Beeches.
"Yes, madam. They arrived tired and hungry, but nothing a good meal and some sleep won't fix."
"Oh, thank God," she whispered, sagging with relief. Tears glittered in her fine blue eyes. Anthony caught her elbow, as much an excuse to touch her as to stop her falling.
"Probert, this is Lady Deerham."
She stiffened her backbone and gathered her composure. "Good morning, Probert."
The butler bowed, giving no indication that an unchaperoned tonnish lady bowling up to the house at daybreak was unusual. When they all knew how improper it was.
Probert stepped back to allow them into the hall. Black and white tiles covered the floor. A glass dome crowned the lofty space. A curving double staircase rose to unite into one a story above. The space was breathtakingly impressive, but that didn't explain why it made Anthony's heart sing. He was a plain working man, but from the first, the Beeches had been home.
Anthony struggled to think through the storm of relief. "Please send a groom to the school to let them know that the boys are here."
"We sent a message when they arrived, sir."
"Thank you." He turned to Fenella. "Shall we roust them from their beds?"
To his surprise, she shook her head. "No, they need to rest after their adventures. I can wait now I know they're safe."
The more he saw of her, the more he liked her. "Shall we look in on Brandon? We'll make sure we don't disturb him."
Her grateful smile proved unsettling for Anthony's heart rate. "Oh, I would like that."
"Where did you put them, Probert?"
"In the blue and green bedrooms, sir."
"Excellent."
"I'll wake cook and have her start breakfast."
"Thank you. We've been traveling all night. Sustenance will be welcome."
"How is Carey's nurse?" Fenella asked.
"Still poorly, I'm sorry to say, but she rallied when she saw the boys. She told young Master Carey off very sharply for running away from school. After that, she looked better than she had all week."
Anthony laughed appreciatively. "Good for her."
"Mr. Townsend, I may be speaking out of turn, but it was clear Master Carey's motives were good, however ill-advised his actions."
Anthony cast Fenella a wry glance as he gestured her toward the graceful staircase. "So I understand, Probert. If someone could sort out some coffee in the next few minutes, they'll have my eternal gratitude."