Chapter 7 #2
He settled back. “Because no one will expect you to head in that direction, and I have a friend there who will shelter you. Inns are too chancy with the hunt so widespread.”
“True,” said Verity, “but if Henry guesses we are his quarry, he’ll still be able to track us, stage by stage.”
A little smile played on Cyn’s lips. “Yes, but he’ll be looking for an older lady, a youth, and a maid with a baby. He may suspect that Charles is Adrian, but it’s less likely he’ll realize I am male. Therefore, I propose that we transform ourselves into a new party.”
Chastity’s imagination was caught. Faith, but he was a cunning rogue. “What kind of party?”
“A military gentleman traveling with his wife.”
“I am to be your wife?” asked Chastity, a traitorous thrill in her heart at the thought.
Cyn raised his brows. “You, sir? Why complicate matters like that?”
Chastity remembered the deception with a bump.
“Verity can play that role,” he continued. “We are not, after all, trying to hide her from those who know her, just obscure the trail. We will also get rid of the baby.”
“What?” Chastity and Verity cried in unison.
“Not really,” he said with a grin. “But if Sir William will cooperate, we’ll put him in my portmanteau when we’re in public. If not, I’m sure it will surprise no one that a military man and his wife should have a child.”
“And what of me?” asked Chastity, ridiculously hurt at the image of this happy family which excluded her.
“I suppose you should once more be the groom. The flat-brimmed hat is very concealing.”
“I am to ride on the box?”
Cyn frowned. “No. Not just because of Hoskins’ hostility, but because you would be very visible up there.”
Verity frowned. “But I don’t see how this will get me to Nathaniel. I won’t give up my purpose, my lord.”
“Of course not, but it’s clear now that the London roads and Maidenhead are the center of the search. If the search is as thorough as it appears, I’m not at all sure we could get you close to your major in any disguise. I’ll visit Frazer and tell him the tale, then he will join you in Winchester.”
Verity laughed. “It’s wonderful. I really think it will work!”
“Of course it will,” he said with superb self-confidence. “So, I will assume my uniform—with great relief, I assure you. You will don my other female outfit and be my wife, and Charles will become the groom. We will leave unexplained your presence inside the coach, Charles.”
Chastity had been thinking over this ingenious plan and had spotted a flaw. “But how are we to effect this change with no one the wiser? If one party enters an inn and another emerges, someone will be bound to notice.”
Cyn’s eyebrows rose. “My dear Charles, with such a head for detail you should consider a career as a quartermaster. And we can’t stop the coach,” he mused, “and change by the roadside, for the postilions would see all . . .”
“We’ll have to do it in the coach,” said Chastity slowly, her mind working out the details.
“At the next stage we’ll pull out the necessary boxes from the boot.
That will arouse no suspicion. We will pull down the blinds and all contrive somehow to transform ourselves over the next ten miles.
We’ll keep the blinds down when we change horses, while Hoskins gives the new postilions to understand that his passengers are a military man with his family.
Soon the blinds will go up and there we’ll be! ”
Cyn laughed. “Brilliant! The naughty lady and her Adrian, along with their suspect maid and baby, will have fallen off the edge of the earth. With the amount of traffic on this road I doubt Horrible Henry will ever sort it out, but with luck he’ll spend days trying.
I salute you, young Charles, indeed I do.
If you have any interest in a military career, I’ll find a place for you in my command any day. ”
It was ridiculous, thought Chastity, to feel so warm a glow at such a singularly pointless offer. It only slowly dawned on her that there was a flaw in her plan. It would require her to change clothes in front of Cyn in the intimate confines of the coach.
She shrugged. She would simply put the groom’s clothes on over her brother’s. It would have the added advantage of making her appear bulkier.
Now that the planning was over, her attention focused again on the Gazette. The newspaper lay on the empty seat beside her, and she was tempted to slide over and sit on it, but that would draw Cyn’s attention. For the moment, he seemed to have forgotten it.
They drew into the inn at Norton and put their plan into operation. Cyn explained it to Hoskins, but it had to be Chastity who helped the man pull the bags out of the boot.
The coachman glared at her. “I don’t know what your game is, young fellow-me-lad,” Hoskins muttered, “but if you get Master Cyn into ’ot water, I’ll wring your bloody neck.”
“What makes you think I’m in charge?” Chastity retorted. “He’s in command now.”
“But if you ’adn’t embroiled him in your tricks, he’d be safe at the Abbey now.”
“He’s not a baby.”
“No, but he near cocked up his toes this summer, and if he has a relapse, you’ll have all the Mallorens on your back. Not to say the marquess won’t already’ve raised the ’unt up for him.”
They found Cyn’s portmanteau, and the box containing other clothing, and tossed them into the carriage. Hoskins gave her a final malignant warning look before climbing back up onto his box.
Chastity settled back in the coach, unsure what to worry about first—Cyn’s health, the paper, or the fact that the formidable Marquess of Rothgar had likely joined the hunt. It was only as they rolled away from the inn that she realized she’d forgotten to get rid of the dratted Gazette.
“Hoskins says Rothgar will be on your trail,” she said.
Cyn flashed her an unreadable look and took off his bonnet and cap. “He may not even know I’ve flown the coop.”
“You make it sound as if he keeps you in chains.”
“Bonds of affection can be as strong as bars.”
Chastity sensed she was stepping on delicate ground, but she persisted. “I would have thought it would be no bad thing to be caught by the marquess. His power could be an asset.”
“If one could be sure which side he’d be on.”
That gave Chastity pause. To have Rothgar against them would be truly disastrous.
“We had best get on with it,” Verity interrupted firmly. “Draw down the shades, Chas, and take William.”
Chastity obeyed, then in the shadowy coach her sister helped Cyn with the infamous laces. Chastity smiled at the memory of their earlier adventure with the gown—a memory she would treasure . . .
She hastily concentrated on the babe. He was awake and happy to play.
She gave him the newspaper, hoping he would gum it to a pulp, or shred it, but he despised such dull stuff.
His eye was caught instead by Cyn’s scabbarded sword in the corner.
Chastity picked it up and let him play with the bright ribbons and gilded hilt.
Cyn glanced over. “Don’t let him touch the blade.” The fact that William was gumming the ribbons didn’t seem to bother him at all. Truly, his very carelessness entranced her. He’d be a wonderful father . . .
Stop it, Chastity.
Cyn soon shed his dress, shift, and stockings—which items raised a giggle from Verity—right down to his drawers. Chastity hadn’t considered this additional hazard to the changing arrangements—that it would have him changing in front of her.
Chastity found herself studying Cyn’s legs and torso, and hastily averted her eyes.
He pulled out his uniform and began to struggle into his white breeches.
It necessitated thrusting first one bare leg then the other right by Chastity; there was no other way.
She hastily passed William back to Verity before he was kicked.
She then wriggled to the side—almost incidentally ending up on top of the newspaper—but she couldn’t get far from his legs. The sight of the hard muscles dusted with golden hair dried her mouth.
He bent his knee a little to reach the cuff and pull it over his heel. Verity squeaked as his elbow jabbed her.
“Hell, I’m sorry. This is a lot harder than I thought. Charles, work the thing over my heel, will you?”
Chastity gulped but obeyed. It necessitated grasping first his calf and then his warm, naked foot, which didn’t do her thundering heart any good at all. She had always ignored feet, but now here was a fine specimen in her hands. She was assailed by the strangest desire to kiss his instep.
Now his other foot appeared for her attention. She pushed his breeches over that heel, too, sighing with relief to have the task done.
He half rose and wriggled the garment up to his waist. “Thank you. Perhaps you could help with the stockings, too.”
Chastity looked up sharply to see him holding out white silk stockings. Red-faced with embarrassment, she eased the hose onto his long elegant toes, over his arched instep, and up his hard calf.
“Smooth them out a bit,” he said rather gruffly.
Chastity flashed him a look, but he appeared fully involved with his shirt.
She threw caution to the winds. How many more opportunities would she have to touch his body as she wished to?
She kept her eyes lowered as she ran her hands up his calves, smoothing out every wrinkle, slowly and meticulously.
Then she repeated the act on his other leg.
Her heartbeat was not fast anymore. It pounded in a deep way which made her dizzy. A heavy warmth pressed on her lower abdomen . . .
After a moment she realized it was coming from his right foot which rested low on her stomach as she attended to his left.
His heel nestled snugly at the juncture of her thighs.
A part of her very close to that heel throbbed like a wound, and she had an almost overwhelming urge to spread her thighs and push against him.
She tightened instead and moved his foot away. “There,” she said.