Free Surrender to the Earl by Gayle Callen Page B

eagerness and excitement—and relief. When he’d mentioned they’d left her village behind, she’d sagged back against the bench and looked almost bewildered.
    “He really let me go,” she’d murmured. “I had feared . . .”
    But her words had trailed off, and he hadn’t pressed for more. He well knew what she feared: a scene, some reason to involve the law. But Robert and his earldom had won the day.
    It was amazing to think that the daughter of a baron had never been beyond her own village, never been to London. Part of him wanted to give her some of those experiences—and then he had to rein himself in. He was escorting her to her new home, making sure she was settled, and then his debt to Blake would be repaid.
    But would it? he wondered. Would these feelings of guilt finally give him some peace?
    “You must think our excitement rather silly, Robert,” Audrey said, “especially when you’ve seen so much of the world.”
    “And that’s why it’s refreshing.”
    “Were you just as excited when you first left England?”
    He hesitated. It had been nine years ago, and Stephen Kepple had just taken his own life. Robert had been questioning everything about himself, his motives, his beliefs, his ability to be the earl. But he wouldn’t tell her any of this. “I was excited to see lands that weren’t green and wet all the time. Little did I know, but India has a monsoon season that makes England’s weather look tame in comparison. And don’t forget about the six weeks at sea.” He gave an exaggerated shudder, then realized she couldn’t see him, but he got a smile out of Molly.
    The carriage was bouncing on the country roads, making it too difficult for Molly to read aloud for any length of time. So the two of them settled on going over the list of servants at the manor.
    “I’ve been corresponding with the land agent hired by my late husband’s estate,” Audrey explained when he expressed curiosity. “I’m told a family has been caring for the manor for the last few years. The mother is the cook and housekeeper, the father takes care of the grounds, their son is the footman, and a daughter is the maid.”
    “Well, that makes it convenient,” Robert said. “With none of the Blake family there, it’s been like their own home.”
    Audrey’s brow furrowed. “Very true. I imagine we’ll all get used to one another.”
    She was already taking care of the people attached to her manor. Robert didn’t even know most of the ones who served him. At the London town house, the only familiar faces had been the butler and housekeeper. He hadn’t even been to his country house yet. He and Audrey were almost on the same journey. While she’d be getting to know her new home, he’d be relearning the one he left behind a lifetime ago, one that ran without any effort by him at all. He’d hired the right staff, he told himself. That’s what he’d paid them to do. He found himself hesitant about getting too involved—his father had always had that trait. In the military, one allowed the officers to command their regiments, one did not try to do every job. He’d learned his lesson.
    “H e’s fallen asleep,” Molly whispered sometime later, and the two women lapsed into a peaceful silence.
    Audrey’s thoughts drifted, but she was too wound up to sleep. She recalled her earlier conversation with Robert, when she’d asked if he’d been excited leaving England. There had been something in his voice that seemed . . . different. He’d answered lightly about the weather, as if that was all that mattered. She hadn’t asked more questions, because there was no point in prying. Yet he knew so much of her life; she couldn’t help being curious about his.
    Audrey still felt dreamy with happiness and expectation. At last she was free to chart her own course. She imagined the countryside streaming by her, all detailed so lovingly by Molly’s gift for words.
    She felt the carriage slow and thought it must