Chapter Seventeen

The viscount and viscountess were in high spirits the next morning. Red's insides shriveled a little as they greeted them brightly. Red ensured he spent as much time as possible overseeing the loading of the luggage and the damned stone before joining them inside the carriage.

"You are a good man, my lord, making sure we are all set to go. Did you sleep well?" Lady Crawford asked. "I tell you, I have only stayed in a few coaching inns, but that was quite a pleasant one indeed. Soft beds, do you not think?"

"Oh soft indeed," her husband put in. "Of course, I barely took a moment to enjoy it. I was fast asleep within moments, but that is what travelling does to you, is it not?"

"Of course Miss St. John would know better than us, would she not, my dear? She is a regular traveler." The viscountess smiled.

Hannah tried to protest. "Oh I do not know about—"

"I knew you were asleep within an instant, George, as your snores were rattling the eaves." Lady Crawford laughed and gripped the window ledge when the carriage began to move. "I am surprised the whole inn did not hear it. I hope my husband did not keep you awake. I will confess I am used to it so I sleep straight through it."

"Why, it is almost like a lullaby to her!" the viscount declared. "I think if I stopped you would not sleep a wink, my dear."

They both laughed. "You are quite right," she agreed. "What a state of affairs it is when you need a snoring man to soothe you to sleep."

Hannah offered a polite smile.

"You found the accommodations acceptable?" Lord Crawford pressed Red.

"Quite acceptable," he said through a tight jaw.

Hannah had insisted that they were lucky to have such nice travelling companions—and indeed they were certainly not rude or arrogant, but how anyone could talk as much as they did about absolutely nothing, he had no idea. Perhaps in other circumstances he might have found them amusing or at least tolerable, but after another sleepless night—one in which he was consumed by wild thoughts of Hannah—he had little patience for them.

Hannah kept giving him little touches or squeezes, mostly to prevent him from saying something uncouth, he suspected, but she could have no idea that they were gradually driving him closer to the edge of lunacy.

That kiss had been a mistake and one that neither of them had been able to resist. Hannah had not mentioned it, and he didn't believe she regretted it. They had both simply been grateful to be alive and had expressed it with that kiss. There had been nothing more natural at the time.

Last night, however...if he had kissed her then, it would have been a choice. Then he would have chosen to take it further. He would have opted to touch her, to skim a hand under her garments and feel her smooth skin. He would have desired to see her eyelids flutter when he touched her higher or deeper. Were it not for the remembrance that she was utterly inexperienced, he might well have gone ahead and done that. Perhaps she would have let him too. He had seen that want there, deep in her eyes.

Red opted for fixing his attention on the view when he could. The viscount and viscountess demanded his attention at times but eventually fell into talking between themselves. Not that is was the hushed sort of conversation that allowed other occupants to talk amongst themselves, but at least they no longer required his participation.

They stopped to change horses and eat, which seemed to revive the couple. Red wished he could say the same. A heavy weight filled his gut at the idea of remaining in a closed space with them.

"Be polite," Hannah reminded him. "We only have one more afternoon of travelling. Perhaps if you engaged them in conversation you would find it easier."

"Are you giving me life lessons?" he grumbled.

"They are nice people. The journey passed more quickly when I talked to them. If you listen carefully, you will find they are interesting people."

He shook his head. "Of course you can find interest in them, Hannah. You can find interest in a bloody rock."

She rolled her eyes at him. "And you cannot find anything good in anything. You are nothing more than a jaded, grumpy old smuggler."

"Oh I can find good," he declared. "I can find plenty of good. In fact, I would declare myself an expert in it." After all, he had found something insanely desirable about this frustrating bluestocking in front of him.

"Really? Prove it."

"Prove what?"

"That you are not really a miserable old man. Find something you like about these people."

He was a grown man. He'd met many challenges and won them. He was certainly past betting or trying to prove herself. However, Hannah was smiling properly for the first time since their incident. She was feeling foolish, he knew that much, and likely a little scared still. If he could keep that smile on her face, he would play her game.

"Very well. I shall be the epitome of wit and charm for the rest of the journey. Let us see what is so wonderful about these people. I suspect by the end of this journey I shall be looking for a rope with which to hang myself."

"Do not be so dramatic," she scolded lightly.

As promised, Red laid on the charm for the rest of their travels. He flirted with the viscountess and engaged Lord Crawford in conversation of fishing and hunting as well as talk of looking after tenants. Hannah watched him for most of it, remaining relatively quiet but with a slight smile tilting her lips.

"What a shame we cannot travel farther together more," the viscount declared as they came into the town. "I believe we could learn a thing or two from each other, my lord."

Hannah was going to adore the fact that underneath all his bluster and talk, the viscount was a savvy investor as well as an intelligent man with a great deal of knowledge about new farming techniques. Red suspected there was little he could teach the man unless he wanted to be a smuggler.

"We must travel on to Taunton tomorrow. My hope is to arrange a private carriage."

"And why are you not travelling in yours now?" the viscountess asked.

Hannah chuckled. "We had somewhat of a disaster with the earl's carriage."

Red nodded. "We have had a mighty run of bad luck on this journey."

They both cast a glance at the stone that laid wrapped at their feet.

"Our sons and daughters are at home so we left the carriage with them," Lady Crawford confided. "They do so love to get out and about. You know how young people are...Well, of course you do." She laughed. "You are young people!"

"Dear wife, you are forgetful," Lord Crawford teased.

"I shall not forget that remark," she shot back with a grin.

"Oh dear, now I shall be in trouble when we are alone. Pray for me will you?"

Hannah beamed at them, somehow delighting in their incessant talk. At least they made her happy, he supposed, though he would have rather have passed the journey in silence. Or perhaps just in Hannah's company...

"You are a naughty man." His wife tutted. "Making me out to be so dreadfully awful."

"I don't need to do such a thing. They know it well." The viscount winked at Hannah.

"Oh no," protested Hannah.

Lady Crawford leaned forward, her hands clasped in her lap. "Anyway, as I was saying before my husband so rudely interrupted...we opted for the stage to take us to my sisters. Thankfully we did not have as great a journey as you two young folk. Our carriage is to meet us here tomorrow and take us home. Though I must say, I have been quite impressed with the service. I think we shall do it more often."

The viscount shook his head hastily. "We do not need to see your sister and her dozen children again anytime soon. My pocketbook says so."

"It is nine children." Lady Crawford rolled her eyes. "And your pocketbook can always stretch to treat them as you well know."

"Yes, but my back cannot take anymore jostling around in a carriage. I imagine you two are mightily looking forward to your own beds."

"Indeed," Hannah said.

The carriage drew to a halt, having passed under the archway into the inn. When Red stepped out and ensured their belongings were all together, he shook the viscount's hand.

"Excellent company, my lord. I appreciate it. You know well enough how it can be travelling with women. All they do is talk."

Red somehow managed not to laugh. "Likewise, Crawford. You have given me a lot to think on."

Crawford's wife tugged on his arm. "Come now, let us get some food and away to bed. We are all tired and hungry, are we not? And I am sure Miss St. John is as fed up with talk of farming and hunting as I am."

Hannah and he dined separately from the couple due to the larger tables being occupied. There was no private dining room, but Red was not overly fussed. All he wanted was food, drink, and a nice bit of peace and quiet. The inn was unfortunately one of the more popular coaching inns, being on the road between Plymouth and Taunton, it hosted travelers going both ways as well as those heading north from the south coast. The generous building had three floors with rooms taking up both the top floors. Their room was on the middle one, facing out onto the busy street in front. He hoped it was not noisy tonight.

Hannah eyed him as he took a long gulp of ale.

"What is it?" he asked, lowering his tankard.

"You liked them."

"Liked is a strong word."

"Very well. You respected him at least."

"He is an informed man with some interesting ideas, I shall give you that." He narrowed his gaze at her. "There is no need to look so smug. Yes, I managed to find something with which to converse with them about, but I still found them to be the most irritating of people."

"I thought they were quite lovely, though I will confess I am looking forward to some peace."

"I had better not utter another word then."

"That is not what I meant!"

"Ah, so is the saintly Miss Hannah St. John admitting they were too much for her?"

"They are nice people, but goodness, they can talk. I'm not sure how they do it."

He peered their way. Several tables divided them and they could not hear what they were saying, but the Viscount lifted a beer in salute. Red returned the salute.

"Well, tomorrow we shall be on our way to Taunton, and if we can hire a private coach from there, we might only have four days of travelling left."

Four days. Four more days in Hannah's company. How was it he had begun to enjoy sitting with her for dinner, watching her smile or even frown as she contemplated something? How was it he liked her arguing with him, tell him how very wrong he always was?

Four days did not seem enough.