Page 9 of The Wallflower Ruse

Which was absurd. How could he possibly know? “I-I fail to see what concern that is of yours,” she said.

“None, I suppose, but a valise usually means a journey.” He eyed her, and those sardonic eyes bored into her. She shuddered. Did he suspect that she knew? He might be idiotic about some things, but he wasn’t a stupid man.

His lips quirked up slightly. “Are you perhaps running away from home?”

Amused, was he? “I’m not running away,” she retorted. “I’m taking the London stage to stay with my old governess.”

“Surely your mother won’t allow you to travel on the stagecoach,” he said.

She glared at him. “I am not a child, Lord Restive. I may go wherever I please. Miss Pringle has often asked me to visit her, and therefore I shall do so.”

“I can’t say I blame you for running away,” he said, “given your mother’s plans, but a young lady must not travel unescorted, particularly to London. The stagecoach is slow, and it may well be after dark when you arrive. Where does Miss Pringle live?”

“In Kensington. I am no stranger to London,” she said. “I am perfectly capable of taking a hack.”

“I daresay you are,” he said, “but I would be a dastard indeed—far worse than you evidently believe me to be—to allow you to travel to London alone.” He paused, then heaved a sigh. “I’ll take you there.”

How dare he! “So kind,” she retorted, “but no, thank you, I’ll make my own way.”

“My dear girl, don’t be absurd. I assure you, I have no designs on your virtue.”

“I know that.” I suspect you of having other designs entirely. Treasonous ones. “It’s just that—that I don’t wish to be beholden to you.”

“I’m going to London and was planning to do so even before your warning, so it’s no imposition,” he said. “But we’d best hurry, for if we are pursued and caught, you’ll be in a worse fix than anything your mother can invent.”

“I don’t care about that,” she said. “I don’t intend to marry. It’s you who’ll be in a fix, so why risk taking me?”

“Because, believe it or not, I have a conscience, and it doesn’t run to letting the sister of my friend go to London alone.”

She considered and found that she believed him. He had no reason to suspect her of breaking the code, so perhaps he was trying to make up for his bad manners. Although why would a traitor care about that? Treason being as unmannerly as one could get, short perhaps of cold-blooded murder.

Which reminded her that Restive’s cohort, whom she’d helped to escape, seemed to have no scruples at all about shooting his pursuers.

On the other hand, he’d been polite, and he’d told her Lord Restive was a good sort. However, if they were both traitors, they might think highly of one another. It was dreadfully confusing.

Nevertheless, Restive’s offer was tempting—and so very convenient. She didn’t like him, in fact she despised him, but she was perilously short of funds, with barely enough to reach Miss Pringle, much less to take a hack from there to Dorothea.

Look at it this way, she told herself. If he really is a traitor...by bringing me to London, he will be helping me to foil him.

Ha! What a perfect way to get a bit of revenge!

“Come, hurry up,” he said, turning his horse, and she followed him up the lane.

They left her pony with his head groom, with instructions to have someone leave it at the inn in Upper Middle Deighton. “Tell them you found it wandering and ask them to take it home,” Lucinda said, digging in her reticule for a couple of pennies, wishing she could spare more.

“Will do, miss,” he said uneasily.

“You needn’t fret,” she said. “I left a note telling my mother I’m going to visit my old governess.”

“But surely she’ll be worried, miss!” the man said.

“It serves her right, Johnson,” Restive said. “She’s a meddlesome matchmaker. If anyone asks, you haven’t seen Miss Belair and haven’t the faintest idea where she might be.”

“I’ll write to let her know I arrived safely,” Lucinda added, taking pity on the groom.

“Thank you, miss,” he said.

Restive helped Lucinda into his curricle, a handsome vehicle pulled by two matched greys, and handed her a rug to ward off the morning chill.