Chapter 14 #2
“Min…” He shifted the reins to one hand and reached for her arm, but she jerked away.
Blast and the devil. What was a fellow to do when his friend was silently weeping—and a woman, and in public? He could hardly put his arms around her, or they really would have to get married.
And Min hated that idea.
He stared glumly at the ears of his horses until one of them threw up a restless head, bored at standing still.
He didn’t even remember halting them. They’d be getting cold.
All he needed was to injure his chestnuts—yes, think about horses, he told himself as he set them to a walk again.
It was easier than his wretched misery at every helpless sniffle coming from his side.
They’d cost him a fortune, these chestnuts, even more than the matched blacks he’d bought six months ago. Maybe that was what Blatherstock wanted to talk to him about. Or chastise him for, more like.
But if Jack’s stable expenses had grown significantly, at least he’d put a stop to his gaming.
It’d only been a few months of boredom the previous winter.
A sort of fretful, hollow urge for something that’d caused Jack to seek the dubious excitement of deep play.
Several significant losses had, however, brought him to his senses.
Exactly as he’d explained to Blatherstock the last time the man had seen fit to hound him.
Min was now silent. But though she’d stopped crying, and though he’d rationalised his own expenditure and come up with a dozen reasons Blatherstock needn’t bother him, he couldn’t shake the feeling that folly was all around him, dogging his steps, laughing in the cold breeze.
He felt as stiff as his poor horses; the dull grey sky had sunk into his bones.
“Why is it so horrible?” he asked. “The thought of being engaged to me?”
She took a very long time to answer. And her voice was quiet.
“It’s a terrible trick to play.”
“So it’s a moral objection? Not an objection to me?”
“You—” The word came out hot, but the rest were spoken with quiet control. “I’d never marry you.”
“But exactly, that’s the joke of it! It’s a trick on the world and all its greedy sharks, not a trick on each other.
We know we’re never going to get married, the very idea is laughable when we’ve never been…
that…to each other. But what a prank to play!
It’d be our finest yet. Don’t you remember when we dusted your face with flour and I got you to lie crooked under that tree and Nell thought you were dead? ”
Her hands pinched together in her lap.
“I remember, Jack. I remember how I hated it.”
“What? No…why are you crying again?”
She turned her head resolutely. “I am not.”
“Fiddle!”
Another sniff was all the reply she made. The fingertips of her gloves grew a little damper. Jack clenched his jaw, but before he could attempt to discover the reason for Min’s upset, they were hailed by a distant shout.
“Ho there!”
Bowling along the path at a smart pace was Captain Sedgewick in what looked like a hired phaeton, the springs creaking, the horses badly matched. Jack snorted, but there was a simmering anger close on the heels of his amusement.
“This, Min,” he said in a low voice as the still distant Sedgewick grew closer, “is exactly the sort of impertinent nonsense I want to save you from.”
“Captain Sedgewick is free to go for a drive if he chooses.”
“Oh, entirely free! Yes, defend him—I saw how sorry you felt for him earlier when I teased him about his vehicle. You’re too tender hearted, by far; you have no idea what men like him—”
“He is your friend.”
“And I know better than to trust my sisters to him.”
“I am not your sister.”
“I didn’t say that you were!”
“And you are in love with his sister.”
He gaped for a moment, stupid as a fish. “I am not—That is beside the point! It’s you I’m talking about. The man is hunting you like a hound after a fox, and I won’t permit it.”
“You won’t permit it?” Her rage startled him. Min got stubborn and quiet. She didn’t speak with cold fury. Not until now. “You are not in charge of me!”
“When you’re here in London under my protection—”
“I am Miss Sedgewick’s guest now.”
“Min—” he said in a furious whisper. The captain was almost upon them.
“And don’t call me Min. I hate it.”
He sat back, dizzy, trying to— “What?”
“Lucy. My name is Lucy.”
Stunned, he let out a breath, but his heart was racing, telling him to panic. He flexed the loop of rein between his gloved fingers, leather tight on leather. But Sedge was pulling up alongside, and it didn’t matter if she was Lucy or Min or the Queen of Sheba, he absolutely had to keep her safe.
“Min, Lucy, listen,” he whispered in one last desperate attempt, “you know nothing of the world, you’re entirely helpless and na?ve—”
“Thank you!”
“—and you’re too ignorant and unworldly—”
“What an afternoon!” called Sedgewick, beaming, and putting an end to any private conversation.
Jack, gritting his teeth, glanced wryly up at the iron sky. “Quite. What a happy coincidence to find you here, Sedge.”
The man smiled as though there’d been no dark sarcasm. “Isn’t it just? And see, Miss Fanshaw, here’s another happy coincidence: I’m now in possession of both a vehicle and your promise to let me drive you.”
Jack opened his mouth to retort, but Min—Lucy—spoke first.
“That is a happy coincidence, Captain Sedgewick. But happiest of all was, if I recall, your promise to drive me wherever my heart desired?”
The captain gave as elegant a bow as his seated position allowed. “Absolutely, Miss Fanshaw! I am your servant.”
“Then,” she said, climbing nimbly down from the curricle before Jack could move to offer his assistance, “I would be very grateful if you could drive me back to your house. I have a terrible headache, and unfortunately Lord Orton finds he is otherwise engaged.”
Jack could do nothing but watch as she was driven away, the captain’s parting wink causing his lip to curl.