23. Pebble

Chapter twenty-three

Pebble

L ouisa felt her aplomb start to wilt as the carriage ride dragged on interminably. The driver stopped every hour or so to change the horses. Since she had no need to use the necessary, she elected to stay inside in her seat where she would draw the least attention.

Fortunately, none of the other passengers were overly curious about the silent young lady in the voluminous cloak. A large, heavily scented shop wife tried to offer her a stale bun, but Louisa refused it even though her stomach was growling.

Best not to take anything anyone offers. You can take care of yourself, and you would not wish to encourage further acquaintance.

Louisa remembered the breakfast she had sent Gyles Audeley to fetch for her at the Swan with Two Necks. A wistful feeling—no doubt, hunger pangs—began to afflict her insides .

Of course, you could have eaten breakfast if you had not bolted for the mail coach in Cheapside. But then you would still be saddled with Gyles Audeley, so going hungry is all for the best.

Louisa swallowed. She had sneered at the idea of Scotland as a destination, but would staying with Gyles Audeley really have been so bad? She did not want to escape her uncle's clutches just to turn over her person and fortune to the first man who was kind to her. But out of all the men she knew, had she ever met anyone better than that eccentric gardener from Derbyshire?

Stupid girl. A man who considers the number and variety of town and country pollinators while riding in a carriage with a beautiful woman? You cannot be serious.

And yet, despite his strange preoccupation with cultivating rose bushes, he had managed to put that aside and be there for her exactly when she had needed him. At Carlton House in the stone pavilion. At Kendall House with her too-heavy trunk. It was pleasant having someone there who cared about her interests. Someone who took the time to assist her into an armchair when she felt faint. Someone who had the sense to deploy a decoy carriage when she needed secrecy.

Fiddlesticks! You're used to taking care of yourself. You do it better than anyone else ever has. Gyles Audeley just happened to be there at the right moment, and he would have done the same for anyone. He's a Good Samaritan, not a hero.

Finally, at midday, when the carriage stopped at a little town east of Guildford, Louisa resolved to rouse the frozen blood in her limbs and find some nourishment. She waited for the large lady with the basket of stale buns to step out into the innyard and then followed her out the carriage door.

"Milady," said a footman in green and silver, inclining his head as he handed her down the steps and out the carriage. She took his hand without thought and then advanced towards the small inn with its stained brickwork and broken shutters.

How peculiar that this out-of-the-way inn should have a footman in livery…livery that looked striking like the Kendall House uniform. Louisa paused, turned around, and gasped. The fellow in the green coat with the silver frog fastenings was none other than Gyles Audeley.

Conscious that they might be observed, Louisa nodded her head towards the little garden patch by the side of the inn. Gyles, understanding her unspoken message, followed her to that secluded spot.

"What on earth are you doing here?"

"Keeping you company in your travels, my lady."

"I don't need your company."

He said nothing to that. Clearly, he did not believe her.

"And I don't want it either."

"Apologies, my lady, but I can't let you travel alone. It wouldn't be honourable of me." His face was all earnestness, and if Louisa did not know better, she would have said he was speaking the truth.

But how could a man be that quixotic? He must have some ulterior motive for following you. Deep down, he's no different from your father, from your uncle, or from Mr. Digby.

"I suppose you think this a clever plan on your part—to wait until we're far from home and then force me into marriage with you so you'll have control of my fortune."

He let out a long-suffering sigh that made her own objection feel childish. "That has never been my intention."

"I don't see what other possible intention you could have."

"Don't you? "

She was a tall woman, but she still had to look upwards to meet his brown eyes. The pressure of his gaze was too much. She dropped her stare and focused instead on the left shoulder of his green livery.

"Upon my word, sir, you are a pebble in my shoe."

"One could be worse things," said her pursuer with a dismissive wave of the hand. "Now for my question: will you run away again if I try to secure you some breakfast?"

Louisa's treacherous stomach chose that moment to grumble. "I…suppose not."

"Good," said Gyles briskly. "The driver says we'll stop at this inn for half an hour, so with your permission, I'll secure a private parlour for your use."

Louisa stared at him and said nothing.

He turned to leave the vegetable garden and went inside the inn. Louisa noted that he was limping a little in his footman's shoes. Brow furrowed, she followed at a slower pace, and by the time she caught sight of the innkeeper, she discovered a private parlour with a fire and respectable nuncheon waiting for her.