Chapter Forty One

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Noah didn't wish to spend a second longer in London, not when his entire being ached for his wife. He knew if he left immediately, he would arrive at Camden in the middle of the night and would risk getting robbed by highwaymen, but his desperation to be with Beatrice—to share her warmth and her bed—drove him to pack his bags and board the carriage back home.

Exhausted from the long trip, Noah was thankful when he shoved the curtains aside to find he was in Camden. In half an hour or less, he would be in bed with his wife.

A small smile settled on his lips. Beatrice would be asleep right now and he would certainly need to sneak into her bed and awaken her in order to surprise her, but he imagined the excitement on her face at the sight of him. He imagined she would jump into his arms and kiss him until he was breathless.

And how he longed for the warmth of her lips; the sweet caress of her arms; the wonderful sound of her voice. How his heart ached to be reconnected with hers! How he loved her and would do anything to keep her safe! It was his desperation for her safety that had driven him to London in the first place; he had gone to London to get rid of the threat that was her father.

No doubt, the old croon would refrain from hurting Beatrice again, or Noah was certain he would not hesitate to commit murder. He didn't care what he had to do to keep his wife safe.

Just as the thought flashed through his mind, his gaze settled on what appeared to be a man on horseback. The white mane looked awfully familiar, he thought, a small frown dispelling his smile. It looked similar to his horse, a pure breed he had spent a fortune acquiring.

The horse kept a steady pace, slow enough that his carriage caught up to it. The carriage slowed when it reached its side, and it was in that second that Noah saw the rider. Worse than that, he saw the woman who lay limply on the horse, as if asleep. His breath caught in his throat.

"Mother!" he forced the word out of trembling lips, just as the carriage pulled to a complete halt. He shoved the door open before the footman could get to it and climbed down in time to watch his butler stop the horse as well.

"My lord!" Richardson remained seated, clinging to Noah's mother as Noah approached.

"What in the world?!" he barked, hurrying to his mother's side. He retrieved her unconscious form in his arms and placed her on the snow.

"There was an accident," Richardson was saying, as Noah touched his mother's pale face. The sight of her caused his heart to skip a beat. "Joseph died in it. If we hadn't come in search of her ladyship, she would have died as well." Noah barely registered the words Richardson spoke as he lifted his mother off of the snow and carried her to his carriage. He placed her across the cushioned seat.

"Ride to the physician's home immediately and summon him!" He climbed in with her.

"I'm afraid I can't do that right now, my lord!"

Turning eyes of steel to his butler, Noah fought to keep his emotions in check. "Why not, Richardson?"

Richardson shook his head. "My lady, the marchioness"—he motioned to the woods—"is still out there."

Noah gaped at him, his heart stopping as the implications of his words sank in. Beatrice was in the woods?! Perhaps she was in danger? But how? The last time he saw her, she was safe and sound. He had kissed her goodbye, determined not to heed her plea to disregard her father and stay with her in Camden. He had left her side, and his decision to do so had put her life in danger.

Breathless, he staggered forward. "Where is she?"

"I'm uncertain." Richardson said, and Noah saw red. He clenched his fist, afraid he'd punch his butler in the nose if he didn't.

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