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She shot him a quizzical look. “That had an ominous inflection to it. I hope you are not regretting your decision to let me accompany you. I have done my best not to slow you down.”

Not once, he reflected, had she voiced a complaint about being tired or cold, or hungry.

“I have tried to be useful,” she added.

“You have been more than useful, Miss Sloane. And not just with Will. You’ve been an intrepid navigator in finding the shortest routes, a resourceful quartermaster in keeping us well-supplied with sustenance for the interminable hours of driving. Most of all, you’ve been a steadfast companion in trying to distract me from worrying about Scottie. I am not unaware that our long philosophical talks, and your entertaining tales of exotic travel have been designed with that in mind.”

“Y-you give me too much credit for altruism, sir,” replied Olivia. “I enjoy talking about abstract ideas. And you are one of the very few people of my acquaintance who cares to listen.”

“I’ve learned more from you than I can recount.”

“And I from you.”

John must have betrayed his surprised, for she quickly went on to explain, “You have a steady calmness about you, Wrexham. You are careful and deliberate.”

“I think perhaps I am too cautious,” he countered. “Too regimented.”

“Well, maybe on a few occasions.” An impish smile, which curled up just a little higher at the right side of her mouth than it did on the left. He had come to recognize it as a sign that she was teasing him.

Instead of taking real umbrage he gave a mock grimace and growled. It was rather nice to be teased.

Olivia smothered a laugh. “Yes, I know it must come as a rude shock for the Perfect Hero to be told he is not without a teeny flaw.”

“Good Lord, kindly refrain from reminding me of that ridiculous moniker. If I knew which journalist first penned it, I would cheerfully break every bone in his writing hand.”

“It was actually very handy in impressing Will,” she pointed out. “And besides, it would be rather churlish to inflict bodily harm on Mr. Hurley after all he has done to assist us with your speech.”

“I might have known it was Hurley,” groused John. “He would put his own grandmother in the boxing ring with Gentleman Jackson if he thought it would sell newspapers.”

“Yes, and being a Hurley, she would probably knock the champion pugilist on his arse,” said Olivia.

John let out a chuckle. “Probably.”

“In all seriousness, sir, getting back to what I have learned from you…” She turned her head, just enough for the sunlight to spark the shadows from her eyes. “I tend to react emotionally to ideas. It has been a new experience for me to watch how you think things through so very coolly and logically. I am trying to emulate your restraint.”

It took all the restraint he possessed not to lean forward and brush away the tiny smudge on her cheek.

With his tongue.

So much for cool logic.

The luminous green of her gaze was making him a little dizzy. Behind her, the fluttery leaves of the hedgerow swayed in shimmering shades of emerald and jade.

“Right,” he said gruffly, fisting the reins and urging the horses to a faster pace. “Restraint.”

The rutted road forced his eyes and his attention back to the task of driving. In response to the sudden jostling, Olivia shifted on the seat and slid a little closer to the side rail to steady herself.

“Have you thought up a plan of how to confront Lumley tomorrow?” she asked suddenly, the intimate connection between them giving way to the more pressing demands of the moment.

“I have,” replied John, missing the warmth of her closeness more than he cared to admit. “We won’t reach The Hanged Man until well after dark. I intend to drive on, and then choose a spot for us to pull off the road and rest until dawn. Davenport’s telescope will allow me to pick a surveillance spot and watch the activities in the stable yard. I have an idea on how to stop them…”

He paused to draw an unhappy breath. “But it means that I must ask you to play a more active role than I would wish.”

“I am more than ready to do so, Wrexham. I trust I have made that clear from the start,” said Olivia.

“So you have. But that does not make it any easier for me to ask it of you. The risk is small, and yet it is there.”

“What do you wish for me to do?” she asked without hesitation.


Tags: Cara Elliott Hellions of High Street Historical