To trust was to commit a sin. Nonetheless, Garrick trusted Victoria. Yet another sin he’d committed with her.
“If you have no enemies, it brings us back around to our original theory.”
“Not quite.” She tapped her forefinger on her lips. “It was, after all, Eleanor who was supposed to be there. However, the likeliest suspect in her abduction would be Lord Berkwith, and he was incapacitated by the men.”
“Unless he wanted to make it look like he hadn’t hired them.”
“But why would it matter at that point? If Eleanor had made an appearance, his assumption would be that she was willing to elope.”
“Except she wasn’t, was she? If you hadn’t taken her place, she was planning to deny him, correct?”
“I suppose, although I believe he could have swayed her to accept him.” She shook her head. “What a tangle.”
“We can work on unraveling it while we travel. Are you ready?” He rose and tugged on his gloves, considering her. He took his hat and dropped it on her head. “Wear this. I will be cannon fodder if I return you to your mother sunburned.”
They ducked into the cold sunshine. The mare was waiting next to a mounting block. Victoria adjusted the bulk of her padding and hauled herself into the sidesaddle. Their horses trudged along the muddy lane. The winds were calm under the sunny skies, and while it was cold, it wasn’t brutally uncomfortable. He attuned himself to their surroundings, but nothing seemed amiss.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“Nothing. No one has followed us that I can tell.” He shifted toward her in the saddle. “Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”
“You don’t have faith in your ability to evade miscreants?” She shot him a small smile. “Could it be we are assigning motives where there are none? What if the men were merely opportunists and unaware of my identity? Not so farfetched a coincidence, considering the area of London.”
Garrick harrumphed. He didn’t believe in coincidence. One did not abduct Sir Hawkins’s only child without an eye to the consequences. The entire might of the British underground network would be brought to heel in order to locate her, and no quarter would be given. The risk was great. What reward had they hoped to gain?
Would Sir Hawkins betray his country and honor to save his daughter? Garrick had seen him sacrifice others without a moment’s remorse, and he thanked the gods Sir Hawkins hadn’t been tested.
The journey passed pleasantly enough. They discussed favorite foods and theater productions.
“I didn’t know you enjoyed the theater.” Victoria’s smile was one of surprised delight.
“I attend matinees on the odd afternoon with the rest of the rabble.”
“So do I!” Her huff dimmed her surprise. “You follow me on my trips to the theater.”
While it was a statement, he answered, “I do, but only as a safeguard. I’ve come to enjoy the outings as much as you. There were many times I had to stop myself from discussing the productions with you.”
“I’m not sure how to feel. Grateful or resentful.” The squelch of mud under hooves filled her pondering silence. Finally, she said, “We could have gone together. So much wasted time.”
Her conclusion startled him. He’d assumed her resentment revolved around his encroaching on her independence. If he dwelled on their squandered time, he might go around the bend. Instead, he kept his voice light. “Tell me about the books you enjoy.”
Victoria told him about the books she’d been reading, and he told her about funny things that had happened to him in service for her father. He didn’t talk about the bad, not because she wouldn’t understand but because he feared she would offer him comfort he would be hard-pressed to deny.
Dusk was falling when the edge of Danbury came into view. Larger than Upton Heath, it would be easy enough for Victoria to arrive unnoticed and join her parents.
When the inn came into view, Garrick nudged his chin. “You go on. I’ll keep watch over you from here. If you need me, I’ll come.”
Their gazes melded for one long, agonizing moment. “I’ll always need you, Thomas.”
She nudged her horse forward, dragging his beleaguered heart behind her.
Chapter 8
Riding away from Thomas sundered her heart. It was the end of a chapter. A cliffhanger, at that. Victoria had no clue what came next. Was it to be a farce, a tragedy, or a romance?
Victoria stepped into the inn. Her mother and father were in heated conversation at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the rooms. With a tight mouth, her mother glanced toward the door, and Victoria was met by a blank face.
Dear Lord, Victoria had forgotten about the extra padding and horrendous dress. Perhaps it would be best if she didn’t take off Thomas’s hat. She stepped forward and cleared her throat. Her mother’s eyes widened, and she said something that had her father whirling around. He took her in head to toe. The corners of his mouth quirked as he approached her.
The almost smile was shocking enough. The kiss he laid on her cheek was absolutely astonishing. “I should have known,” he murmured before slipping out of the door, presumably to discuss matters with Thomas.
What should he have known? Could he see the imprint of Garrick hands and mouth and…? Her cheeks heated and banished the chill of the ride.
Her mother whisked her up the stairs and into a cozy, well-appointed room decorated in blue brocade. A stand with a white-and-blue porcelain basin and pitcher stood next to a bed piled high with blankets. A fire had been laid, and an emerald-green velvet chair stood in the corner.
“What on earth are you wearing?” Her mother’s first question a surprise.
Victoria had expected an interrogation about her almost kidnapping and her night alone with Thomas. Or even inquiries about her emotional and physical well-being. Not curiosity about her attire.
“A dress.” Victoria tossed Thomas’s hat on the bed. She wasn’t usually so recalcitrant, but the past twenty-four hours had been life changing. Except, she wasn’t sure anything would actually change in her life. Her mother would still expect her to pick a husband at the house party.
“I have been too lenient with you.” Her mother’s tone took on a glacial edge. “You’ve been allowed too much independence. I’m afraid it’s ruined you.”
Although her mother didn’t mean ruination by fornication, a weary laugh popped out of Victoria.
“This is no laughing matter. We must hope Lady Eleanor and Lord Berkwith stay silent on your scandalous behavior.”
“Considering they would be implicating themselves if they speak of it, I’m sure they will remain quiet. Anyway, Eleanor is my friend.”
“A friend would not have allowed you to meet with a man unescorted and unprotected.” Her mother’s severity quashed any humor Victoria felt. “If whispers of your indiscretion turn into shouts, you won’t have a choice but to marry Lord Berkwith, and none of us want that.”
Revulsion turned Victoria’s insides to mush. For one thing, she had no interest in a popinjay like Lord Berkwith. Even worse though, was the fact Eleanor fancied herself in love with him, and Victoria wedding him would be the ultimate betrayal.