Just so the thief takes good care of her until I get her back.”
“You will return for her, then? I hope you are able to claim her again.”
“I will.”
Again, with that cocksure attitude of his. In this matter, however, she rather esteemed him for it.
A turn appeared with a splintered sign and Mr. Bateman steered them onto a less traveled road. The sound of voices and horses beckoned from the short distance, an indication that the inn was bustling but hopefully not at capacity.
Surely, he would not expect her to share her chamber with him, in truth? Surely, he was only teasing. Of course, he was.
In a matter of hours this man had managed to finagle his way onto her coach, and under her skin. He’d be gone as quickly as he appeared.
Although he was charming and handsome and … the utter opposite of nearly every man in which she’d ever been acquainted, Aubrey could not allow herself to be caught unaware by his unusual attraction.
As the coach slowed to a halt, she straightened her back along with her resolve to resist Mr. Bateman.
“Stay here.” He rose, brushed his way around her, and then effortlessly leaped to the ground. “If there aren’t any rooms, we won’t want to delay.”
And if there was only one room?
Aubrey clutched her hands in her lap as she contemplated whether she ought to trust him not to simply claim it for himself.
No gentleman would do such a thing… and yet, his gentlemanly attributes were as of yet, debatable.
Before she could worry herself, he reappeared in the doorway with a reassuring grin. “We’re in luck! As long as you’re willing to share it with me.”
The dratted man was laughing again.
“I already told you, Mr. Bateman— “
“Forgive me.” He wiped away his smile, moved to stand below her and held out a hand. “Step down here and then you can settle up with the innkeeper.” And then he added. “The room is yours.”
Aubrey nodded and clutched her reticule tightly.
“Careful now.” Has hand felt sure and warm, even through her gloves. She’d gone from being exasperated with him, to feeling grateful in the blink of an eye. It could not all be due to his imposing presence. Likely the recent changes she was embarking upon had left her feeling… out of sorts.
She’d considered herself so brave when Mr. Daniels had directed the coach toward London, away from Rockford Beach. She’d been excited, gleefully so. Surely come morning she’d be feeling more herself again. Yes, that was it. Too many new places and new people had put her on edge.
Not to mention this extraordinary situation with Mr. Bateman, who, although considerably helpful, managed to provoke her to behave in a most uncharacteristic manner.
In the matter of a few days, they would both go their separate ways.
A sense of calm, but also disappointment settled on her, and before she could step down from the driver’s box, in one swift move she found herself flipped over Mr. Bateman’s shoulder, upside down and clutching at anything she could grab for dear life.
Which in this case, was Mr. Bateman’s behind. She required a moment to scrutinize the sinewy muscles shifting and flexing directly in front of her eyes before she realized exactly what had happened.
“What…? Mr. Bateman!”
“Didn’t want you to ruin your pretty little shoes in all this mud.” He informed her calmly as she watched the ground pass with each step he took.
Itwasrather muddy.
Was that his hand on her bum?
“Please,” Her voice came out harsh sounding, what with her abdomen bearing most of her weight. “This really isn’t,” Breath. “Necessary.”
“No trouble at all Mrs. Bloomington.”
