Where was she now? He’d not thought to ask the name of her employer. If he’d known where she was going, at the very least, he could assure himself of her safe arrival. He could have even visited to see if she was treated well there.
The drive steepened, and Jack leaned forward, using his weight to keep Reliable moving. A sheer drop fell off to the left but the horses seemed unconcerned, dutifully walking toward home.
When they arrived at the castle entrance, Jack’s shoulders and legs burned and his boots were covered in mud. But the trek had managed to clear his head, and he admitted to himself that he wasn’t ready to put Delia behind him completely. It was too dark to do anything about his decision now, but first thing tomorrow, he’d return to the Black Sheep and discover who it was that collected her.
It wasn’t as though more than a handful of households in the area could afford to hire companions, so one way or another, he’d learn the name of her employer.
And although ladies were discouraged from corresponding with unmarried gentlemen, Jack would write to her there.
He would ask her how she was… Jack shook his head. No, he’d do more than that. He would admit to his feelings. But the idea of putting those in a letter didn’t feel right.
Her father was in London. Should he speak with him beforehand?
But then he caught himself. What the hell was he thinking?
“Is Mr. Rothchild behind you, my lord?” Mr. Bunker, his grandmother’s butler, inquired as he took Jack’s coat from him.
“He is spending the holidays with his family again, so I’ll be looking after myself.”
“That won’t be necessary, Bickman can dress you.”
Jack didn’t require a valet, but he and Bunker had had this argument before and on each of those occasions, the butler had won. So, instead, he asked, “have the monsters arrived yet?”
“Not yet, my lord. I imagine they’ve been delayed by the weather as well.” Bunker answered. “The rooms have all been readied, however, and your grandparents are expecting you. They are waiting to receive you in her ladyship’s sitting room.”
“Excellent.” Jack stomped his feet. He loved his grandparents, and perhaps he’d taken them for granted. He breathed in the ever-present cool air in the centuries-old castle that represented his heritage. The familiarity of these surroundings had always grounded him. He couldn’t help but smile. Delia, no doubt, would tell him these were just a few of those silver linings she touted.
He did his best to push thoughts of Delia out of his mind and then stepped into his grandmother’s private sitting room.
He would see to her tomorrow—ensure she was no worse for wear for having known him.
Jack rubbed his chest. This odd pang was nothing more than melancholy, and the empty sensation was only temporary. Christmas was his least favorite time of the year, and he was feeling it more than usual.
He’d been perfectly content with his life when he’d departed London. Meeting one small woman ought not to have changed that.
And yet, it had.
“Jack, my dear. Horrid weather. I feel terrible that you drove through it on my account. Come here so I can see you properly.”
“You’re as beautiful as ever, Grandmama.” Jack spared his grandfather a quick glance before crossing to his grandmother and dropping onto one knee. He took both of her hands in his. “Most of the snow is melted,” he reassured her. His grandparents appeared the same, but… older. When had that happened? “No storm can keep me from one of your Christmas parties.”
“Your sister and the boys aren’t arriving until tomorrow afternoon,” she said.
“And the twins?”
“That goes without saying.”
Jack’s grandfather rose to stare out the window. “Appreciate the quiet while you can.”
“You don’t fool me for a minute, Archibald. You love the bustle as much as I do.” His grandmother patted the space on the settee beside her. “Sit here, Jack, and tell me what you’ve been up to in London.”
“You know me, Grandmother,” he said. “Gambling and drinking with some work thrown into the mix.”
“I know you. Ever since you got into all that importing nonsense, that’s all you ever do. And since I haven’t heard that you’re courting anyone these days, I’ve invited a few others besides Lavinia and my dear friend Agatha.”
And by a few others, she meant suitable ladies for him to consider. Jack winced.
“The Duke of DeClair and his daughter.”