Scales. Mr. Matheson gestured toward Linfordâs carriage. Mrs. Scales bent over and grabbed up her pail and a bag, and hurried toward the Linford coach. Her sister was quickly behind her, dropping her pail once and quickly retrieving it. But at the coach door, there was another discussion.
There was a shuffling around of the luggage, and then Mrs. Scales, Mrs. Tricklebank and the elderly gentleman all joined Dr. Linford and his wife in their coach. Dr. Linford climbed up to sit beside his driver. After what seemed an eternity, Dr. Linfordâs coach drove on, sliding around the stagecoach, and then moving briskly down the road.
Prudence sagged with relief. A smile spread her face as she realized she had managed to dodge Dr. Linford completely. How clever she was! Prudence had never thought herself capable of subterfuge, but she appeared to be quite good at it. She felt oddly exhilarated. At last, something exciting was happening in her life! It was only a single day, but she was completely enlivened by the events thus far.
Now that the Linford coach had gone, Prudence noticed Mr. Matheson began striding toward her, his gait long and quick, his tails billowing out behind him.
She couldnât see the harm in this, really. Sheâd had her lark with a handsome pair of eyes and stirring lips, and no one would be the wiser for it. She would arrive at Cassandraâs house as intended, and none would be the wiser of her flirt with adventure, would they?
Prudence might have strained her arm reaching about to give her back a hearty, triumphant pat, but she had a sudden thoughtâMrs. Scales or Mrs. Tricklebank could very well say her name to Mrs. Linford, who would know instantly what sheâd done, and worse, that sheâd purposely eluded Dr. Linford in this meadow as if she had something very dire to hide.
Prudence went from near euphoria for having arranged an escapade she would long remember to terror at having done something quite awful.
Now
what was she to do?
CHAPTER FOUR
M ISS C ABOT APPEARED to shrink slightly as Roan strode back to the stand of trees, which he took as another sign that she was hiding something. The woman reminded him very much of Aurora. Roan loved his sister, adored herâbut she was the most impetuous female heâd ever known. Without a care, heedless of the consequences of her actions, and therefore at risk of being irrevocably compromised. Of course he grudgingly admired Auroraâs independent spiritâhe had a bit of that himselfâbut he wouldnât trust his sister for even a moment.
Looking at Miss Cabot glance around as if planning her escape, he had the same feeling of utter distrust for her.
Miss Cabot apparently thought the better of running and engaging him in a true footrace, but she took a tentative step back.
Roan stopped himself from grabbing her by the arms and giving her a good shake. He put his hands on his waist and stared at her. âAll right, then, the sisters have gone. You may safely confess what youâve done.â
âWhatever do you mean? Iâve done nothing,â she insisted unconvincingly.
âThievery?â he asked flatly.
She gasped.
âMurder?â
âMr. Matheson!â
âDonât look so aghast, Miss Cabot, for I canât think of a single reason why you would hide herself from a doctor with a superior coach.â
Miss Cabot paled. She had nothing to say for herself and bit her bottom lip in a manner that Roan believed was a universal sign of guilt on a woman. He honestly didnât know if he should deliver a lecture of conduct or bite that lip, too, as he desperately wanted to do. He thought of a man with Aurora under similar circumstancesâanother lip biterâand inwardly shuddered.
âAdmit itâyou were to be in that coach.â
She lifted her chin, clasped her hands together tightly at her waist. âYes.â
Any number of scenarios began to race through
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