Chapter Seven #3
Her eyes were drawn to the canvas-wrapped bundle he’d left beside the rock where she was sitting.
He hadn’t expressly told her not to look at it, hadn’t even inferred it was none of her business.
She waited a few more seconds, then gave in to the growing need to know what it was he’d salvaged from the trunk.
She pulled the bundle onto her lap and unwrapped the heavy canvas, then the linen shirt, to reveal a tin box of .
. . toffee? Luther’s Confectionery toffee, in fact; it was the same shop that sold her—and Geoffery’s—preferred peppermints.
This was what he had dug through the trunk for?
The one thing—other than the coat she was wearing—that he could not do without?
Thinking that perhaps the box wasn’t filled with toffee, she cracked the lid and peeked inside before removing the top completely.
It was full of toffee. She frowned at the banal contents before taking a piece—a small one that wouldn’t be missed—and popping it into her mouth where the flavor of peppermint was long gone.
She replaced the lid, rewrapped the shirt, and resecured the canvas while the chocolate and rich sugar melted upon her tongue.
Luther’s was truly a wonder with sweets.
She returned the bundle to where he’d laid it in the grass and savored the candy, consumed with thoughts of what had happened, of what could happen next, of what was, and wasn’t, and what might be.
If the second plan was to make the delivery at 8:30, and they were on time for it as communicated by the hickory smoke, her family back in London would only just be getting up for the day.
She’d told her maid to let her sleep undisturbed until noon, as last night’s ball had gone late, and there were no scheduled engagements until this evening.
Here she was, living out such a wild adventure while her family thought she was asleep in her room.
The note she’d written—cryptic as to where she’d gone but assuring them she would send a letter in a few days’ time with her location—would be lying on her pillow for hours yet.
Her mother would be receiving her breakfast tray soon and tutting over the gossip in the daily papers with no idea that her daughter was sitting in an unknown wood somewhere waiting on a secret agent to return.
Imagine if that were reported in the papers!
What in heaven and earth would happen next?
Some of the excitement seemed to settle as she thought about the future.
When Geoffery had first discovered her in the carriage, he’d said that her family would put together his departure from London and her arrival in Andover.
It seemed very foolish to her now that she hadn’t considered that on her own.
Could the additional risk she’d created for him be dangerous?
If someone did connect her disappearance with his journey home, it seemed likely it could reveal his having taken a different route than expected.
To say nothing of the scandal she’d associate him with—the two of them alone for hours. She shifted uncomfortably on the rock.
He’d already told her that because of today’s trouble, he would no longer be able to serve in this role, which was not her fault, but the potential consequences of being connected to something scandalous would be.
She raised a hand to her mouth and chewed on her fingernail anxiously.
Something Geoffery had said to her came to mind: “Do you think life is about only doing what you want, where you want to do it?”
Did she?
Or perhaps a better question for her to ponder was whether she could not find a balance, at least for a little while: the daughter her parents needed her to be, a protector for Geoffery’s secret, and a woman who could make her own choices with less aggression toward other people’s agendas for her—namely, her mother’s.
Geoffery had found a way to manage his public life and this very private one.
Could she not do something similar rather than be so singularly determined on a course that created chaos?
While so much of her woman’s heart longed to make her own decisions and influence her own destiny through courageous action and determined choices, that same heart wanted to keep Geoffery’s secret safe.
Keep him safe. Could she go on to Andover and protect Geoffery at the same time?
She was afraid that the answer to that was no.
A rustling in the trees brought her out of her thoughts and to her feet in an instant.
She let out a breath when Geoffery stepped through the branches while unwinding the covering he’d put on before he’d left, slowly unveiling his face.
He smiled as he stuffed the crumpled cloth into yet another pocket, returned the hat to his head, and reached for her hand.
She was only too eager to feel the strength of his fingers around her own again.
He did not speak, and so she did not either as he picked the bundle up and led her away from her resting place.