Blast and damn this mud.
“We’ve passed the midway point, I believe.” This to encourage her. “Try to step on the larger rocks. You’re less likely to slide that way.”
Without looking back again, she straightened her shoulders and took a few tentative steps in the direction she’d just slid down. This time, he grasped her waist from behind. Somewhere along the climb, they’d lost her valise. He hoped she hadn’t been carrying anything valuable. He supposed he could send someone back for it, if necessary
The going was slower now, as the top half of the climb dropped steeper than below, but they made steady progress.
Her feet slid a few more times, and her knees buckled once, but she kept moving without complaint. By the time they arrived at the road again, her face was flushed. Beneath her silly hat, damp tendrils of hair clung to her forehead and the sides of her face.
She swept the hat off her head and glanced between the two of them. “That was quite stimulating.” Illuminated by sunlight, for the first time, he noticed a few strands of silver hidden in her coiffure. Tiny lines crinkled at the corners of her eyes as she stared off into the valley below.
And then the glow of the sun disappeared, and with it the silver glints and harsh illumination.
A dark and threatening looking cloud moved visibly across the sky.
“I don’t trust this road. Are you able to continue toward the inn?” Although no longer as vigorous as he’d been as a younger man, he had retained his stamina by practicing the ancient arts.
She would be quite fatigued by now, despite the satisfaction she’d derived from their climb.
She grimaced. “I’m sorry, again, for all this.” She turned to walk, but in the wrong direction.
“Do you plan on hiking back to London, then?” His words halted her.
“Oh. Of course not.”
Niles gestured for her to go ahead of him, but then reconsidered and took hold of her arm. “This way to The Goat and Pig.”
“They’ll take one look at us and surmise the establishment was named for the two of us.”
Niles chuckled.
A woman who maintained her sense of humor under such circumstances was rare indeed.
What a disasterof a predicament this was!
Eve matched her steps to Mr. Waverly’s. She wasn’t a petite woman, but even so, she surmised he’d shortened his stride so that she wouldn’t struggle to maintain their pace.
“How far is this Goat and Pig establishment?” she dared to ask. Perhaps they ought to have marched toward London. If they were lucky, some passersby might come along and take them up. She’d abandoned her belongings when changing her footwear, leaving her with nothing respectable or even clean to change into.
All she had was her traveling dress, a light wrap she’d donned earlier that day, and her hat — and even that was ruined.
Mr. Waverly squinted into the distance. “I’d hazard to say five miles? Difficult to say as it’s been a while.”
Five miles? She stifled a groan.
What would she tell her daughters if they were in her situation? To be grateful they’d come out of the mishap uninjured? To dwell on something other than the crick in her side or the blister on her left heel.
Chin up, Eve.
“Does your work require you travel often, then? Your other clients?” She’d keep her mind preoccupied by learning something about her dedicated man of business.
“Not as much as in the past, but oftentimes Findlay has me look in on the factories. Most of those are up north.” She, herself, had met Niles through Thomas Findlay, father to Rhoda’s friend, Cecily. The man’s success in commerce was quite legendary.
“How did you meet Mr. Findlay?”
“He gave me my first job.” This might prove interesting after all. She knew very little about employment of the merchant class.
“As his secretary?”
