He made a scoffing sound in the back of his throat that he then tried to disguise as a cough. ‘Have you not read the newspapers, Mrs Falkner? The north is up in arms about this latest idiotic verdict—’ He grimaced.
Mouth agape, she stared up at his face, once more overwhelmed by the height and breadth of him. In her mind she kept seeing him as the gangly young ensign from nine years before with large ears and a hook of a nose, hanging at the fringes of his fellow officers. The skinny fellow on the cusp of manhood was gone, replaced by a hard-faced, hard-eyed man who had grown into his aristocratic features. He’d become handsome in the way of a battle-hardened warrior, a face of clean lines and sharp angles. ‘I read the newspapers,’ she said with hauteur. It was difficult to look down one’s nose at a man who was as tall as he, but if he got the message that she wanted nothing to do with him, it was worth the attempt. ‘None of that has anything to do with my trip to York for household supplies.’
His expression darkened. ‘A woman driving across Yorkshire’s moors in a lozenged carriage with no more than an elderly coachman to guard her is hardly safe. Don’t think your gender will protect you. No one was safe at St Peter’s Field. Men, women and children died, and those wielding the swords were related to half the nobility in Britain.’
She recoiled at the underlying bitterness in his voice. ‘You speak as if you have first-hand knowledge.’
His mouth tightened. ‘I was there.’
‘Is that why you resigned your commission?’
His jaw flickered. He turned his face away, looking off into the distance. ‘In part.’
Clearly he did not welcome further interrogation. Nor did she have any reason to engage him in conversation. Quite the opposite. ‘I am sure there can be no danger to me. Tonbridge made his disgust of last August’s events quite clear.’
They crossed the square in front of York Minster, its spires pushing into the clouds like medieval lances.
He stopped, forcing her to stop, too, and look at his grave expression. ‘Nevertheless I will escort you on your return journey as Tonbridge would expect.’
His autocratic manner sent anger spurting through her veins, despite that he was right. Tonbridge was exceedingly protective of his wife and, by association, her erstwhile companion. And it was not just the recent troubles that made him so. The establishment of the Haven for Women and Mothers with Children in Need had been highly unpopular with the wealthier of Skepton’s residents. Until Tonbridge had taken up their cause, both her life and Merry’s had been at risk.
‘It is most kind of you, Mr Read. However, rather than put you to such trouble, I will hire outriders for the journey back.’
His face hardened as if he had received some sort of insult. ‘If that is your preference, then please ensure you do.’
She had not intended an insult, but surely he had better things, more important things, to do than serve as her escort? She bit back the urge to apologise. If he was insulted, he would likely leave her in peace. The longer she spent in his company, the more likely he was to remember he had met her before. She’d seen the puzzlement in his eyes as he tried to figure out why she looked familiar on the occasion of their first meeting. She had no wish to remind him or to reminisce about old times. Or old acquaintances. She repressed a shudder. And she certainly did not want him anywhere near her son.
He started walking again. He had long legs and towered over her by a good eight inches, but he adjusted his stride to the length of her steps. It was the mark of a well-bred gentleman. Or a man intent on making a good impression.
‘How is Thomas?’ he asked, to her surprise and trepidation. ‘Is he with you?’
It was difficult not to be pleased at his recollection of her boy, when in truth she should have been terrified. Why would a man who was barely an acquaintance care about the whereabouts of her son? Was it merely commonplace conversation or a threat of exposure or simply a way of worming his way into her good graces? Whatever his motive, she did not dare show her worry, so she kept her voice calm. Her answer factual. ‘He is well, thank you.’
Tommy had been impressed by Captain Read in his uniform when they had met. The boy had talked of how his father would have been just such a soldier. Subsequently, she had done her best to keep Captain Read at a distance in case he recalled the past she had tried to keep hidden.
‘You should think of him if you will not think of yourself. He would suffer greatly if anything happened to you,’ he said.
Her blood chilled. ‘Are you trying to frighten me?’ It would not be the first time a man had tried using intimidation to get what he wanted. ‘It is not well done of you. I can manage to find my own way back to my hotel from here.’ She could see the dashed place.