“Nice to see you do have some gentleness about you, old boy,” Rafe said.
Brodie snorted. “I have a little, but my temper often covers that up.” He left Rafe and his man to finish packing and headed downstairs to wait with Lydia.
The stable yard was full of coaches, some finely painted, some adorned with family crests or shields of heraldry, while others were red-and-gold Royal Mail coaches. The rest were public or private stagecoaches but far less fancy.
Rafe’s coach was blue and silver, with the Lennox crest emblazoned on the side. They were lucky to ride in such a fine conveyance. It had plenty of room on top for luggage and for servants to sit facing each other in pairs on the perched seats. Alan and Fanny climbed up to their seats, and Lydia stood beside the coach talking to them. T
