“I think I need the English Channel between us, Lizzie.”
She smiled and then looked away. “Do you trust me to finish sewing on your button?”
“Completely,” he said gallantly.
With a determined breath, Lizzie set to work again. When she was done she broke the thread and examined her handiwork. “There,” she said. “You look every bit the gentleman.”
He thanked her gravely. She was avoiding his eyes now, as if she had revealed too much or their intimate moment had unsettled her. Terry admitted to himself that it had unsettled him, too. What was happening to him that he suddenly found Lizzie Gamboni so fascinating? Wasn’t he in enough trouble as it was, without seeking more?
“Why don’t you rest for a while? Until Annabelle feels able to continue?”
Lizzie shook her head. “I can’t sleep. I keep seeing the duke in my dreams and he’s very angry with me.”
Terry grimaced. “My sister seems to get on quite well with him,” he said. “Jack whispers to horses and mends magpies, but my sister has a way of soothing even the most savage beasts.”
Lizzie giggled.
A tap on the door heralded the servant. “The lady upstairs is calling for you, miss. Says she ain’t well.”
Lizzie rose hastily to her feet. “I’d better go,” she said, only to hesitate, as if she wanted to stay.
“Yes,” he said. “Thank you for the button.”
When she was gone Terry sat alone and tried to tell himself that everything would work out. Annabelle would reach her friend in Scotland and Lizzie would find work with a kind family who appreciated her and Terry would . . . would. . .
He frowned, because the thought that had popped into his head wasn’t the one he’d expected.
Terry would never see Lizzie again.
Chapter 28
“Are you sure Annabelle has eloped? I thought she had more sense than to act so impulsively, Sinclair. Wasn’t she marrying that Salturn chap? Worth a mint.”
Lord Ridley, Sinclair’s maternal uncle, was fifty and a bachelor. Sinclair’s mother always said he was far too selfish to think of settling down and giving up his freedom. He’d been injured in the Peninsula during the Napoleonic Wars and walked with a limp, but other than that he was in good health, and the injury gave him a certain cache among the ladies.
“She’s young,” Sinclair answered now, “and the man she’s run off with is very persuasive.”
“Ah yes. Miss Belmont’s brother.” Lord Ridley smiled, more inclined to be amused than shocked by the revelation that his nephew was traveling with the sister of the villain of the piece.
“I assure you she is very different from him,” Sinclair said stiffly.
“Of course, of course,” Lord Ridley agreed, but there was a twinkle in his eye Sinclair found slightly offensive. “Tell me again how a slip of a girl managed to persuade you to carry her off into the night?”
Sinclair’s mood had plummeted since they left the woods and traveled in the coach Robert had provided for them to Framlingbury. It was truly the worst contraption he had ever been in. There were so many things wrong with it he ran out of fingers to count them, and when he began yet another rant, Eugenie had turned to him with sparkling eyes and said, “Enough! It is not nearly so bad as you make out.”
“How can you say that?” he’d retorted. “It is so ancient it must have been built for Elizabeth Tudor, and I’m willing to bet it hasn’t been resprung since.”
Georgie, who was riding up on top with Robert—who seemed to have become his new hero, another reason for Sinclair to feel out of sorts—laughed loudly at something the coachman said. Robert cracked his whip and the coach began to jolt alarmingly as their pace increased. The coachman was showing off, Sinclair was certain of it, and in a moment they would be smashed to pieces in a ditch.
He reached up and pounded his fist angrily on the wall. “Slow down, you damn fool!” he roared.
Eugenie leaned toward him. “Stop it. You are behaving like a spoiled child.”
“Like Georgie you mean? He is certainly spoiled. He robs me, holds me to ransom, and now he’s treated like a prince.”
“You know he had no choice. You said so yourself.”
The coach went around a corner, rocking so violently Eugenie clutched the strap with both hands, her face blanching.