“You mustn’t say such things,” he whispered.
“Pardon me. I forgot we were ignoring it ever happened.”
Her needling worked to make him feel even worse. “You understand why it must remain our secret.”
She popped the last bite of sticky bun into her mouth and stared him down for what felt like an eternity. “Of course. Our secret.”
“I’m going to see about transportation.” He stood and made his escape.
The cold air was a slap in the face. He had ruined everything. Things would never be the same between them. She would become another man’s wife, and he would be forced to watch it unfold from outside Sir Hawkins’s study door. His life would be a living hell. A sickly combination of anger and despair churned his stomach.
One thing became clear. He must leave Sir Hawkins’s employ. With Sir Hawkins’s backing and the coin he’d saved, Garrick could buy a commission and become an officer on the front lines instead of a shadowy figure behind the machinations. The simplicity of charging into battle to kill or be killed held its attractions.
After shaking himself out of his stupor, he spoke with the stable master. The sun was bright overhead, and the sound of melting snow dripping from eaves was all around them. The yard had turned into a slushy, muddy mess. According to the stable master, the roads were worse, and progress would be slow in a coach.
Garrick didn’t want to remain in the village any longer than necessary, and traveling in a slow-moving carriage would make them easy targets. The only option was to proceed on horseback. Luckily, Victoria was an experienced rider. The weather would make the journey miserable, but she had borne worse with little complaint.
While the stable master readied a sturdy mare for hire, Garrick returned to collect Victoria. Lost in thought and unaware of his approach, she stared into the flames of the hearth, her profile solemn.
The urge to draw her into a comforting embrace made his muscles twitch. Instead, he cleared his throat. “The snow is melting, albeit slowly.”
“What is the condition of the road?” She didn’t favor him with a glance.
“A combination of mud and slush. Coach travel will be difficult. We’ll have to continue on horseback. A mare is being saddled for you now.”
She nodded. “I’ve been thinking.”
He braced himself. “About us?”
Now she turned the full force of her attention on him, sitting back in the chair and crossing her arms over her chest. “As a matter of fact, no. About the men who tried to take me.”
Garrick took the seat next to her. “What are your thoughts?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you only pretending to be interested in what I think to placate me?”
“You are your father’s daughter. I don’t underestimate the quickness of your mind, and I’m interested in everything you have to say.”
She blinked rapidly then let her hands fall to her lap. “You must quit saying such things. It only makes it more difficult.”
“Why? It’s the truth.”
“Because no other man of my acquaintance—not even Father—cares about what I want and even less about what I think.” She sighed. “But I will lament over that when I have the luxury of time for a good cry. Right now we must concentrate on why those men wanted to abduct me.”
“To get to your father.”
“To blackmail him into doing something against the Crown’s interest?”
“That would be a solid assumption.”
“But how did those men know I would be leaving the town house yesterday evening? Alone. I only decided on a plan of action that afternoon after I visited Eleanor.”
“I assume you went through the mews to visit Lady Eleanor as I didn’t see you.” At her nod, he asked, “Who crossed your path, even if it was for a moment?”
“A groomsman. Annie accompanied me of course.”
“Of course she was involved,” he said dryly. “I assume you trust her implicitly?”
“I do, and so do you, or she wouldn’t be employed in our household.”
While Victoria was correct, anyone could be turned if offered the right incentive. “Does she have a suitor? Perhaps a handsome footman placed in a nearby household swayed her with pretty words and cajoled information without her even realizing she was betraying you.”
“Is that what you are trained to do? Cajole women out of their secrets?” The jab was well-placed, with the force of enough truth to sting.
“What prompted your hastened visit to Lady Eleanor?” he asked.
“A note from Lord Berkwith passed to me through the milliner.”
“Why her?”
“It was at Lord Berkwith’s recommendation. A lady visiting the milliner raises few suspicions. I was most often the go-between because I am afforded far more freedom than Eleanor.”
“That’s because even in your schemes, you exhibit a certain amount of care. Usually.”
“I was careful this time. I went well disguised.”
“Not careful enough.”
“So it seems.” She ran a finger along her lower lip, and he followed the path with his gaze, wishing he could lean in and do the same with his tongue. Then he’d—
She whipped around and caught him staring at her mouth. He averted his eyes and picked at the dirt along his cuffs as if he actually cared.
“What does Father preach?” she asked finally.
“Never leave a man alive who can recognize you?”
She sputtered unintelligible words before saying in a shocked whisper, “I’ve never heard him say such a thing.”
He leaned back and crossed his arms. “I think our lessons might have covered different topics. What wisdom did your father impart to you?”
“Don’t assume anything.”
Garrick had heard Hawkins utter the words so many times they hardly registered anymore, but now he applied them to their situation.
“All right, let’s toss the assumption the attempted abduction has anything to do with your father. Do you have enemies? A gentleman scorned? A lady jealous?”
She barked a laugh. “None that I know of. I’m not lofty enough to gain such notoriety nor pretty enough to attract notice from anyone of import.”
“Balderdash. You are beautiful and intelligent and any man who isn’t besotted with you is an idiot.” He took one of her hands in both of his and caressed the back with his thumbs.
It was exactly the sort of gesture he should be avoiding, because it made him want to touch her everywhere. He dropped her hand and rubbed his palms down the legs of his breeches, as if he would ever be able to erase the feel of her skin on his. His little speech was not helping him lock his heart away. He was basically gift wrapping it and offering it on one knee.
“Or maybe not,” he said mulishly.
She raised her eyebrows. “Maybe they aren’t idiots? Or maybe I’m not beautiful and intelligent?”
An apology stumbled out of his mouth, but when his gaze met hers, her eyes were twinkling with a teasing merriment that was dearly familiar. Some of his dread dissipated. Their second moment of insanity—perhaps hour of insanity was more accurate—hadn’t destroyed their friendship.
Garrick didn’t have many boon companions. Any boon companions. The men and women who worked under Hawkins were chess pieces, never fully realized as people. Garrick was as unknowable to them. He was merely Hawkins’s shadow.