“And leave you unattended across from the men’s lounge? No.”
“No one will know I am here. Unless our yammering has given me away, of course.” She leaned around his arm and peeked through the curtain. “The corridor is clear.” She laid a hand on his chest and gave a push. “Come on. You can escort me back to box.”
Her touch seared him through his waistcoat. Her delicate fingers lay there for one interminable minute as his nose filled with her light floral scent and his gaze fastened to the rise and fall of her cleavage. Then his self-preservation kicked in and he yanked open the curtain and stepped out of the alcove. Grasping her hand, he tucked it into the crook of his arm and began walking down the hallway.
“What are you doing at Astley’s anyway?” Susanna asked.
“I was invited by friends,” he replied.
She raised an eyebrow.
“I have friends other than you, troublemaker. And where were you coming from? Backstage I assume?”
She nodded. “Just saying goodbye to my friend Clara. She and her husband will be traveling with the troupe this summer.” She glanced up at him. “One of their stops will be Weymouth Bay. Which made me think about James Marlow. Have you looked into whether Baron Heyward is still alive? Still in Weymouth Bay?”
Miles grimaced. He had totally forgotten. “Um,” he cleared his throat. He should just say he had looked into it, but hadn’t heard back. He was a terrible liar though, and Susanna was far too sharp. “No, sorry,” he mumbled.
She pulled to an abrupt stop. “Really, Hawksridge! You promised and it’s been two weeks. After all I am investigating this whole thing partially for your benefit.”
“I will send my firm a note tomorrow.” He crossed his finger over his heart. “I promise.”
He felt bad. Normally he did not forget things, but really, her plan was far-fetched at best. And he was trying to wrap up business matters in London so that he could bloody get away for a few weeks. He gave her arm a gentle tug and they walked forward. “Which box are you in?”
“Seventeen,” Susanna muttered. Her brow was still furrowed in annoyance. Why was that so dammed attractive? Perhaps what he really needed was to get away from her. He valued their friendship but his very inconvenient attraction to her was becoming harder to control. And control was very important to him.
His father had given him plenty of advice over the years before his death. But the most important piece was to not fall in love. His father and mother had loved each other madly. When his mother died Miles had watched his father disappear too, sinking deep into grief. Years later, his father had confessed that the pain of losing her had been too great a price to pay. His advice was that Miles should choose a sensible match to be his marchioness and avoid the pitfalls of an emotional attachment if he wished to have peace in his life.
He glanced down at Susanna’s hair glowing like burnished copper in the candlelight. One shiny curl had escaped her coiffure and brushed the delicate curve of her neck. His fingers itched to tuck it behind her ear. To see her lips part in surprise at his touch. To watch them turn up into a smile just for him. He tore his gaze away.Yes, a dangerous creature indeed.
Chapter Eight
“Icannot believethis,” Susanna muttered. She peered out the window of her carriage. “Do you think Sam will be able to get them out of the way?”
Jenni shrugged and slid over to press her nose against the window next to Susanna. “Don’t know, miss. That is an awful lot of cows.”
“Shouldn’t there be some farmer with the herd, you know directing things?”
Her maid simply shrugged again. Susanna sighed loudly. This was definitely going to set back the timetable she had created for the journey to Guilford. Her coachman had been out there trying to shoo twenty cows across the road for at least a half hour. The herd was paying no attention to him and instead milled about forming an uncrossable bovine river. This did not bode well for the first day of their journey.
Her parents had left for the Grangers country home three days ago. It had taken a full day for her to pack. Jenni, bless her, had been a saint as Susanna changed her mind several times about what was appropriate to wear for an adventure of this type. They had finally left this morning at dawn. The plan was to meet up with Astley’s circus this evening in Guilford. She had written ahead to Clara and had the name of the inn that Mr. Maddox booked for the troupe for the four days they would be in town.
Susanna watched Sam slap the hide of one cow to get it moving then lose his footing in what could only be cow dung. He regained his balance at the last moment, but his face was red with frustration. He smacked the next cow on its back rump. This one did not take kindly to the signal to move and its back leg kicked out and clipped Sam right in the shin. This time Sam did fall over with a yelp of pain. Before he could get to his feet the herd seemed to shift. Perhaps it was Sam’s sharp yelp of pain that had startled them but the cows started to move across the road heedless of the man on the ground.
“Oh no,” Jenni cried out.
They watched in horror as Sam tried to scramble out of the way still on his hands and knees. Then a large cow trampled over Sam’s legs. His scream of pain sliced through the air. Susanna pushed open the carriage door and she and Jenni jumped down onto the dirt road. They weaved through the herd to reach Sam, and the two of them surrounded him as cows pushed past them. The melee was over in minutes. The cloud of dust from hooves and the braying moos of the herd all that was left as they moved into the pasture.
“Sam, are you hurt?” Jenni kneeled at his head, her hands moving over his face wiping dirt from his cheeks and forehead.
Susanna could see from where she stood that his leg was twisted at an unnatural angle below his left knee. “Sam, I can see your leg is broken. Are you hurt anywhere else?”
Jenni glanced down to his leg and gasped loudly. Sam grimaced. “This hand, I can’t move my fingers.”
She assessed the hand he held up. Two fingers were definitely broken as well. Hopefully none of the bones in the hand had been crushed. They needed to get him out of the road. She nodded. “All right. Jenni and I are going to get you into the carriage. I will drive us to the next town and we will have a surgeon there fix you. Jenni, I’ll grab him under his arms and you support the broken leg.”
Jenni stood and shook her head. “No, I will haul him and you support the leg. I’m much stronger than you, miss.”
Susanna paused and assessed her maid’s words. Jenni was right, of course, she was much stronger. She nodded. Jenni slid her hands under Sam’s armpits and hefted him off the ground. Susanna carefully supported his injured leg with two hands under his thigh and they slowly moved backward toward the carriage. Sam used his good leg to balance, his face twisted in pain as they half dragged him. He propped himself against the side of the carriage while Jenni clambered inside. Thank God for steady horses.
