Apple entered a protest. “But she’ll want paying, Alex.”
“Not a problem. I’ll stand the nonsense.”
“But —”
“No buts.”
The curt tone had dismayed Apple, but worse was to come. Having secured Mrs Tinkler’s services, he returned to the cottage only briefly to warn Apple to be ready to set off at an early hour upon the following morning.
“No point in starting today, for you and this Mrs Tinkler can’t be expected to scramble to be ready soon enough if we’re to avoid spending a night on the road.”
He’d refused Reddy’s invitation to dine with them, saying he had too many arrangements on hand, and Apple had not seen him again until the coach turned up at six that morning, with Mrs Tinkler already installed inside on the forward seat. Which had made any conversation other than the trivial impossible.
The widow, a talkative woman, had beguiled the first part of the journey with a flood of reminiscences about travels she’d undertaken in the past, interlarded with her gratitude and willingness to serve his lordship in this way.
Apple struggled to make conversation, beset as she was with apprehension. It was rooted more in the aloofness she detected under Alex’s insouciant manner than in the thought of confronting the magistrates at Bow Street. She yearned to talk to him in private, but the opportunity had not yet offered.
Every mile increased the distance she felt between them, and it hurt. The absence of the camaraderie, the companionship she’d always felt in his company, distressed her, even though common sense dictated it was better this way. When this was all over, as it must be in a matter of days now, she would likely never see him again.
This melancholy thought had the effect of suspending the breath in her chest as she fought to restrain the instant rise of grief. She must not weep. Whatever it was that had caused Alex to withdraw a little — for that was precisely how it felt — she must not appear conscious.
But no amount of chiding in her own head served to settle her mind. At last she could endure it no longer. Glancing across the carriage, she saw that Mrs Tinkler’s head was nodding. Had she fallen asleep?
“Alex!” A hushed whisper.
He turned his head. “What is it?”
She was grateful for the instant understanding that made him use a similar murmur in response. “Alex…” Her voice stuck in her throat. She could not ask him! How to say that his manner was killing her? How to tell him that in spite of all her careful reasoning, the inevitable approaching farewell sat in her breast like an open wound?
She saw him shift slightly, his face little more than a shadow in the dim interior. Then his fingers found her hand, and the warmth of them closed around it. He did not speak. Only kept her hand imprisoned within his own, turning his head away again.
Apple swallowed down the choking lump in her throat as silent tears seeped from her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. She made no move to wipe them away, trying not to sniff or make a sound. Her heart felt as if it was breaking. Alex knew. He understood. He was not aloof after all. But his silent acceptance of her grief told its own tale. The tiny thread of hope she had not been able to conquer snapped in two.
For an endless moment Apple struggled, but the exigencies of her situation forced the tears back and the worst effects subsided. At any moment Mrs Tinkler would wake. If she was to say anything at all, it must be now.
Alex’s hold had relaxed a little, and she gently withdrew her hand. He looked round. Apple drew a breath for courage. “You know something, don’t you?”
“Not now, Apple. Not here.”
She persisted. “But do you?”
He hesitated, seemingly searching her face in the gloom. Then he sighed. “Yes. Or at least, I think so.”
She caught her breath on a last sob. “That explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“Why you’ve been aloof.”
Another hesitation. Another sigh. “Forgive me, Apple. Can’t endure the thought of… Well, you know what I mean. Don’t need to say it.”
Apple sniffed. “Can you lend me a handkerchief?”
At that he laughed, and her heart lifted to the spontaneous sound.
“Here.” She took the glow of white from his hand. “Have to buy you a supply of the things, since I won’t be there to hand one over on your travels.”
The hollow opened up again, but Apple made a determined effort to sound cheerful. She kept her voice low and gestured across the coach. “I think Mrs Tinkler is well travelled enough to manage, don’t you?”
