Page 23 of His Revelation
Was it?
Damnation, it was.
“Nay,” he blurted, then ducked his head once more. “Nay, ye’re mistaken, milady.”
He saw her shrug, then she released his arm.
And damn him if he didn’t feel…lost.
It took him a moment to realize she was leaving him, and all Lysander knew was he couldn’t allow that to happen. “Where are ye going?” he blurted.
She frowned at him. “To the vicar’s?—”
“Nay. I mean, on yer journey.” He hurried to walk beside her, and when she glanced down at his feet—just the once—he exaggerated his limp. “Ye said ye would be gone for a few days, and ye’re off to ask the vicar’s sister to go with ye.”
To his surprise, she stopped and glanced around, as if checking to see if they might be overheard. She stepped closer to the stone front of the shop they stood before and lowered her voice conspiratorially.
“I am going to York.”
“England?” he blurted, and she rolled her eyes.
“No: York, Pennsylvania.”
He blinked, surprised. “Ye ken American geography?”
“Yes, I have read a book or two. And so haveyou,to know it as well.”
Hell, he’d almost given himself away, hadn’t he? He tried for a disarming grin. “I’ve picked things up in my travels. And soon ye will be a traveler too. York is no simple jaunt.” And why in damnation wasshegoing toYork?
Her chin rose stubbornly. “The vicar’s sister is not a traveler, but she is discrete. I cannot allow anyone to know I am leaving. I will buy two tickets for tomorrow’s train, and return two days later.
“And yer sister cannae go with ye?”
Suddenly, she looked downright guilty, glancing around the square.
Of course. She is ashamed to be seen with someone like me.
But why would she lookguiltyabout that?
“My mother…does not know about my journey.”
Lysander sucked in a breath. If her mother didn’t know, then her sister would have to stay to deflect suspicions. So Tiffany couldn’t bring anyone else in her household, lest Baroness Oliphant discover her missing. But she couldn’t travel alone.
“I’ll go,” he blurted, then winced when she turned incredulous eyes his way.
“You?”
He shrugged and tried to cover his gaffe. Tried to make it sound as if he weren’t desperate to sit beside her in a train for two whole days. “If ye are keeping it a secret from yer mother, then ye cannae risk anyone else in town kenning yer real purpose, aye? I am a stranger but I’m trustworthy, and”—his brain worked frantically to come up with arguments—“ye’ve helped me, so I’d like to help ye in return.”
Her snort of laughter was tinged with derision. “I cannot travel withyou. You are a stranger! I do not even know your name!”
Rather than being offended by the way she’d sneered that bit, Lysander understood she spoke the truth. For all she knew, hewasa dirty beggar. But suddenly, he was frantic to make her see him as trustworthy so he could go with her.
He told himself it was because, if he didn’t, he’d have to wait around three full days for her return, wearing this ridiculous beard.
“No’ kenning my name is easily remedied, milady.” He offered a slight bow. “I am”—he grasped the first word he could come up with—“Laird Gaberlunzie.”
To his surprise, she burst into laughter. “’Lord Beggar’? Of course, I should have expected that.”
