He grabbed a large stick, swinging at the dog. It managed to scramble to its feet, limping away at a furious pace, casting cowed eyes back at him. He knew the dog was no longer a threat. It was hurt and was going away to lick its wounds. He swung back to Baldwin.
Delia was on the ground but got to her feet, gazing at him. Her grey eyes were luminous with tears. He grabbed her, pushing her behind him as he waved the stick at Baldwin. Giles had arrived, holding the rock aloft, ready to use it if necessary.
“Enough,” growled Ambrose. “It is over, Baldwin. You cannot have her. I want you to forget that you ever saw her. Do I make myself clear?”
The man glowered at him. “Playing the knight in shining armour, are you, Hartfield? About to throw the damsel onto your white horse?” He sneered at him. “Don’t be a fool. We can split the money. They are offering a small fortune for her.”
“I don’t care about the money,” he spat. “The only thing I care about is the woman I love. You will have her over my dead body. Now go. Get into your carriage and forget that you ever saw her. Or else I will make your life very difficult indeed.”
Giles grabbed Baldwin, restraining his arms from behind. “You heard the man. Let’s get you back to your carriage.” He turned to Ambrose and Delia, his face softening. “I will take care of him. You just take care of her, Hartfield. It’s about time.”
Ambrose nodded. “God help me, I will.” He swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. “Thank you, Giles. For everything.”
The man nodded, tightening his grip on Baldwin and pushing him into the woods.
Ambrose turned to Delia, at last. She was trembling like a leaf. He gathered her up in his arms, kissing her face, her hair, her shoulders. She clung to him, sobbing piteously. He never wanted to let her go.
Eventually, she pulled away, gazing up at him. “Did you mean it? Did you mean it when you told him that I am the woman you love?”
He swallowed another lump in his throat. “Yes, I meant it, Delia. I was a fool not to have realised before.” He reached out, trailing a finger down her face, so overcome with love for her that he could barely speak. “I am yours. If you will have me.”
She gasped. “Idowant you,” she whispered, her beautiful grey eyes shining like silver. “For I love you, too, Ambrose Hartfield. I have wanted to tell you for so long, but I did not dare.” She shuddered. “I thought you would never love me in return.”
He cursed under his breath. He had been such a fool. The woman he loved had been by his side this entire trip. He had just been too conflicted to see it.
His heart expanded. None of his silly excuses as to why he couldn’t marry for love, or wished to fall in love, mattered any longer. He had been confronted with the spectre of losing her and found he could not face it. The future had seemed a cold, dreary thing without her.
But now…now, it spread before him as if it were tinged with pure gold.
Suddenly, he swept her up into his arms, kissing her tenderly on the head. “Let’s get you back to the carriage,” he whispered. “I am taking you to Bradford. At long last.”
Chapter 39
Delia sat back in the coach as it rattled along the road towards Bradford. Suddenly, she saw a large town ahead of them. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, unable to believe it was true.
“Is this it?” she whispered, turning to Ambrose. “Is this Bradford?’
She felt like she had just laid eyes upon a mythical kingdom, like Xanadu or Atlantis. A place that she had dreamed about but hadn’t really believed she would ever see. She felt like she had been on a quest to reach it, a long, difficult journey fraught with peril. And now, here it was, sprawled ahead of her. She wouldn’t be surprised if a rainbow suddenly arched its way above them.
And the best of it was that she was travelling to the place with the man she loved. The man who had just saved her and declared his own love to her.
“Yes,” said Ambrose, smiling at her warmly. “This is Bradford.”
“Praise the saints in Heaven!” cried Sister Mary Majella, crossing herself. “We have arrived at last!” She smiled at Ambrose and Delia. “And just in time for the two lovebirds to start nesting, I would wager.”
The whole carriage burst into laughter. Delia stared out the window, bright-eyed, her weariness suddenly forgotten. She didn’t feel like she had just run for her life through woodland, trying to stay ahead of a crazed man and his dog. Her aching body was abruptly refreshed. She felt like she could dance on tabletops in her excitement.
She watched the town unfold, noting every house, every steeple, every chimney top. It was a rough industrial city, but it looked like paradise to her. She didn’t think she had seen anything more beautiful in her life.
Finally, they pulled up at the juncture. The carriage stopped. They had officially arrived. They all climbed out, shaking themselves. Their trunks were placed on the sidewalk.
The journey was over. And oh, what a journey it had been.
They said their farewells to the other passengers, promising to keep in touch. Mr Hawkins and Miss Tilney left quickly, vanishing into the crowd milling around the juncture.
Sister Mary Majella hugged Delia fiercely, wishing her joy.
“I want to be in the front pew at the wedding,” she whispered, winking at Delia. “Do not disappoint me, child.”