A man walked up to the side of the wagon. “Yer ready, then, folks? We must be off.”
“Hodgkins?” asked Paul.
“That’s me, sir. Now we’re gonna drop the lady at the Chase and yerself and them barrels at FitzArden Hall, right?”
“Got it in one. Good man.” Paul hopped into the back of the wagon, and held out his hand to help Harriet climb onto the little step and then join him, steadying herself on a barrel.
“So I can sit here?” She moved to the spot where the sheepskin was folded. “It looks very soft.”
“Down you go.” He held her hand as she slid down, landing on her bottom, well protected from the hard flooring.
He wasn’t so fortunate, but given the sunshine and the shelter offered by the barrels, he cast an apologetic look at Harriet and slipped off his coat. “Apparently the other sheep had decided they preferred to keep their skins. So I must improvise.” He folded the garment as neatly as possible, put it down next to Harriet, and managed to contort himself into a position that allowed him to lower his backside onto twenty guineas worth of excellent wool tailoring.
He had just settled, when Hodgkins clicked up the horses, and the resultant jerk threw him into Harriet.
She let out a muted grunt and put out a hand to steady him.
Six inches from her face, Paul found himself perilously close to doing something quite scandalous. Her lips were full, her eyes dancing gold in the sunshine.
He recalled himself just in time. “I do apologize. I trust I didn’t hurt you.”
“Of course not.” She wriggled a little and straightened her skirts. “I don’t mind this at all. It’s a little adventure, isn’t it?”
He thought about that. “Yes, I suppose it is.” He glanced at her as he steadied himself with a boot against one barrel. “So were all your errands satisfactorily completed?”
“Oh yes.” She paused. “Well, almost. I have to return to pick up two of the items on Miss Letitia’s list. But with luck they will be ready before she returns.”
“Ah, well I’ve heard that Mrs. Archer is an excellent seamstress, so I’m sure they will be,” agreed Paul.
“Yes, I’ve heard that as well…” Her words tapered off as she turned to glance at him, both swaying with the movements of the wagon. “How did you know they were garments?” Her gaze sharpened. “Were you following me?”
Paul was surprised at how tense she had become. “Of course not,” he soothed. “I have a gift for deduction. You mentioned that the items would be ready…and you’re shopping for a woman. Put those two facts together and it’s not impossible to arrive at the correct conclusion. Clothing.”
She looked away, an embarrassed blush staining her cheeks. “I must apologize, Mr. DeVoreaux. My accusation was entirely groundless and most unpardonable.”
“Nonsense. You were correct to be concerned, and I owe you an apology for the way I phrased my comments.” He rested a hand on her arm. “I trust I’m forgiven?”
She shot him a quick sideways look from beneath her lashes. It was entrancing.
“I really am quite reliable, you know. And very good at keeping secrets.” The wagon bumped over a rut and once again, he was close against her, observing her long silky lashes and the perfection of her skin. “I wish you’d tell me yours. Tell me why you’re here, in the back of a wagon, sitting on a sheepskin and surrounded by barrels of ale.”
That caught her attention, and she looked up. “Is that what they are?”’
“Indeed. The finest ale in England, I might add. At least in my opinion. Which is endorsed by James and Edmund.”
“That good?” A tiny smile curved her lips.
“Yes, that good.” He let his leg rest against hers as they rocked along the pitted lane. “So if I can find ale that good, and I’m excellent at putting facts together; well, if I were you, I would find me quite a trustworthy chap. Just ask my sister.”
The smiled turned to a laugh. “Yes, you must be. All right. You’re a trustworthy gentleman.”
He nodded. “In that case, won’t you honour me with your story, Miss Harry? Please?” He poured every ounce of charm into his request.
She was helpless to resist. “You are really interested?”
“Oh, yes,” said Paul, surprising himself with the intensity of his answer. Yes. He reallywasinterested…
So Harriet related the long, difficult tale of her life prior to her arrival in Ridlington, and Paul was shocked, angry and finally amazed at her resilience.
Neither realized that a third pair of ears was listening very closely to every word.
