James took a moment to ponder how to begin. It occurred to him he’d be best off doing so, not as the barrister who’d judged her, nor as the man who longed to kiss her again, but as her friend. With this in mind, he crossed to her bench so he sat beside her, and reached for her hand. When she didn’t resist his touch, he wove their fingers together and gently inquired, “You told me you were unacquainted with the duke. Is that true?”
She produced a strangled sort of sound at the back of her throat. “Yes.”
“You are certain of this?”
“Of course.”
“Then I can only assume you had a bad experience once with someone who looked a lot like him.” When she attempted to pull her hand away, James held on and angled himself toward her. “Mrs. Lawson, I realize you and I had a bumpy start to our relationship, but I’d like for you to count me as your friend, so if there’s anything else you want to share – some burden you’d like me to help you carry – I will keep your confidence.”
“Thank you, Mr. Dale, but everything there is to know about me has already been revealed.”
“I cannot believe that.”
“You think I’m trying to deceive you somehow?”
He searched her outraged expression. It seemed genuine enough and yet James’s instinct compelled him to doubt the story she and her husband had told the world. Yes, he thought she was trying to deceive him, but since admitting as much was unlikely to benefit either of them at this point, he shook his head. “No.”
If she was determined to pull the wool over his eyes, then he saw no reason why he shouldn’t do the same. As long as she thought he accepted her farce, the greater the chance she’d reveal more clues pointing toward the truth. So rather than ask further questions, he drew her against his side and offered the comfort he suspected she needed.
They sat like that, holding hands and with her head resting on his shoulder, until they reached the next posting inn.
“I’ll buy some food for the journey and inquire after our children. Why don’t you stretch your legs in the meantime? I shan’t be long.”
She caught his arm. “I’d rather come with you.”
Noting the frightened look in her eyes, James nodded. “All right. We’ll go inside together.”
His heart swelled with protective fierceness when he saw her panic subside as relief took its place. Stepping down, James turned and offered his hand. She took it, clasping it in her own as though it contained all the strength she required to carry on. He hated seeing this woman who’d otherwise faced him with flint in her eyes look so afraid. But he was glad he was there to help and grateful to fate for making them travel together so he could guard her.
Pausing for a moment beside the carriage, James reached up and tucked a stray lock of hair beneath her bonnet, securing it behind her ear. He wasn’t sure why he felt so compelled to touch her, but he liked that she did not flinch or retreat. Perhaps this was why he allowed his fingers to linger a fraction longer than necessary, or why he let them trace the edge of her jaw as he drew them away. Maybe recent events made him want to be closer to her, to show her he cared in a way he did not yet know how to express with words.
“Thank you, Mr. Dale.”
He smiled at her upturned face. Her red-rimmed eyes contrasted against the paleness of her skin did not detract from her beauty. She was still the loveliest woman he’d ever seen, and if they’d still been inside the carriage, away from prying eyes, he believed he might have kissed her. Which would without doubt have been a mistake. After having one man press his advances on her, the last thing she probably wanted was for him to make a go of it too. Most importantly, he didn’t want her to think she owed him or that his help and protection came with certain expectations on his behalf.
So he broke their eye contact, effectively letting the tension between them fizzle, and led her inside the inn. Fifteen minutes later, they were back on the road with a new team of horses, food to enjoy as they rode, and the knowledge that Michael and Cynthia were only a couple of hours ahead now on account of their having a later start. If the young couple decided to stop for luncheon, James and Mrs. Lawson had a real chance of catching up to them before they reached Gretna Greene.
As if reading his mind, Mrs. Lawson asked, “Are you still determined to stop them from marrying?”
After resuming their journey, James had reclaimed his seat beside her since this was where he felt most at ease. And since she did not complain about his proximity, he told himself she welcomed his nearness.
Chewing the bread and cheese he’d just taken a bite of, he gave her question serious consideration before he said, “I wish I didn’t have to, but I must put my son’s best interest first.”
A brief hesitation followed before she said, “Surely if these past few days have taught us anything, it is that there may be consequences to trying to separate people who love each other.”
She had him there. It was indeed a strong argument in favor of letting Michael have the woman he’d chosen, but as long as he doubted Mrs. Lawson was being completely honest with him about her situation, he dared not risk any permanent form of attachment to her. Not to mention that nothing would truly change as long as she remained the fallen woman she gave herself out to be. She’d still threaten Michael’s reputation and the career James wanted for him.
Unless…
He studied her as she ate, observed the kindness in her eyes and the gentle curve of her friendly smile. “As you know, my reluctance to offer Michael and Cynthia my blessing has nothing to do with Cynthia. I’m sure she’s a lovely woman, but if Michael marries her, he will form a close family relationship with you, and I fear this will have dire repercussions on his future.”
A shadow fell over her face. “Just so you know, I intend to keep to myself from now on. Believe me, I have similar concerns. The last thing I want is for Cynthia to suffer because of me, which is why I’ve no intention of showing my face in London as long as she is living there.”
“I fear your absence won’t be enough.”
“You don’t believe people will forget my scandalous divorce in a year or two?”
“To be sure, they might stop thinking about it. Certainly, something else will likely grab their attention and push your divorce into the background. But your daughter will always carry the burden of your actions in much the same way as an illegitimate child would.”
Her gasp was sharp and full of indignation. “I beg to differ, Mr. Dale.”
Deciding to strategize as a barrister would, he chose his next words carefully. “Unfortunately, I see only one way in which your daughter’s happiness might be secured.”
“And how is that?”
“There’s no guarantee, mind you.”
“Nevertheless, I’d like to hear your idea.”
He pretended to give the matter some serious thought. If he was right about Mrs. Lawson lying to everyone with regard to her marriage, then surely she’d give up doing so if it meant saving her child from unhappiness.
Cautiously, so as not to remind her of his suspicions about her, he told her, “Society has painted you as Jezebel. But suppose you were to prove you’re not that person. Perhaps then you could be forgiven, welcomed back even, and see your daughter happily wed to the man she loves.”