The landau was solid and old-fashioned and the coachman had been thirty years in the General’s service and the horses were good bloodstock and the Duke had confidence in the footman escorting the ladies.
And a groom followed behind, riding Assaye.
“Goodbye, Travers,” Verena said, holding out her hand.
Travers took it in his.
“I’ll carry out the Master’s orders, miss, and keep the house ready for your return.”
Miss Richardson, who had already said ‘goodbye’ to the Duke, then stepped into the carriage.
Verena held out both hands to him, her eyes filled with unshed tears.
“You will come and see me – soon,” she asked.
“The day after tomorrow,” the Duke promised.
“You have my Godmother’s address?”
“You wrote it down for me,” he answered. “Take care of yourself, Verena, and I give you
