She had a feeling he didn’t care if it was all right with her, he’d call her Ness anyway. “Suit yourself. And you and the boy? What are your names?”
“The boy is Charley,” he said. “My friends and family call me Monty.”
She knew that was a lie. She’d overheard him and the boy talking about the new names they’d been given. She hoped to learn in the next half hour why they couldn’t use their real names on the journey and wherever they were going.
They had stopped beside the road to eat and rest the horses. There was just one old oak tree there with meadows all around it and a few farms in the distance. The last stand of trees they’d passed was far behind them. Her guards wouldn’t like being so far from her, but they might have to get used to it. There weren’t many forests on the way to Cheshire, and that might become a problem for her, too, she realized.
She’d pulled aside into that last stand of trees to relieve herself, then galloped Snow to catch up with the coach. The pair inside it wouldn’t have noticed, but the driver did glance back at her, no doubt wondering why she was being missish.
She sat on the other side of the large basket the driver had set down on the blanket, across from Monty, and crossed her legs comfortably. Charley had gone off and hadn’t returned yet. And Monty was staring at her. It was a bold stare, which made her quite uncomfortable. Even though they were sitting under the oak, the shaded area was still quite bright with the sunshine all around them—and he might be seeing something she didn’t want him to see despite the hood she was wearing. She’d taken off the scarf earlier because the spring day had warmed up considerably, but now she wished she hadn’t.
She glanced back to see what was keeping Charley but didn’t see him. “Your ward is missing.”
“No, he’s not.”
She turned back to see Monty nodding toward the field to her right. When she looked in that direction she saw the boy walking about briskly for a little exercise. That was a good idea, and it would seem quite normal if she wanted to join someone her age rather than endure the scrutiny of Monty’s inquisitive emerald eyes any longer.
She started to get up to do that, but then he added, “I take my guardianship seriously. The boy will never be out of my sight.”
When he’d just been staring at her instead? But she wasn’t about to point that out and have him tell her what he found so interesting about her. She redirected whatever thoughts he was having by asking, “Why did you steal the horses?”
“Steal from robbers who meant to steal from us? More like justice, wouldn’t you say?”
“I suppose, when you put it like that.”
“And yet there was a more prudent reason. I simply didn’t want them finding their mounts too quickly and deciding their wounds could wait to be tended until after they’d caught up with us again. Besides, we can alternate those mounts with our horses, although that huge brute of yours could probably pull this coach on his own and get us there in half the time.”
“He was bred to be a workhorse, but he’s never been one, has been a friend instead, so I decline the suggestion. Get us where?”
“Oh, somewhere up north, on the coast I think, an estate where we’ve been invited to sojourn for a month or two. I’m sure they won’t mind if I bring you as another guest.”
“And Arlo,” Charley said as he sat down and reached into the basket.
“Arlo can take himself back to London once we get where we’re going,” Monty replied.
“No, he can’t,” Charley insisted.
Vanessa noticed the boy’s jewelry was gone, well, most of it, and likely at Monty’s request. Getting rid of the gems adorning his clothing would require a change of clothes, but that beautiful golden hair would probably be the first thing anyone noticed about him.
“He’s not that pretty,” she heard Monty say when she’d stared a little too long at the boy. Charley immediately gave Monty an aggrieved though haughty glare for that remark.
Vanessa couldn’t help chuckling. “But his hair is.”
“Excellent point,” Monty concurred, and said to Charley, “We need a hood for you, boy. If you have one buried in one of those trunks, fetch it out. Otherwise Arlo can stop in the next town to buy one for you before we go on. As for Arlo staying, explain.”
“You assumed he’s just a driver but he’s not. Arlo is with me, groomed to be my manservant from the day I was born.”
Monty sighed. “So much for thinking he would know if we’ll reach an inn before dark.”
“No, he’s never been out of London before, so he wouldn’t know.”
“What the deuce was George thinking not to give us a real driver?”
“Arlo has a map.”
Monty growled in his throat. Vanessa managed not to laugh but remarked on what was becoming obvious. “It doesn’t sound as if you’ve been Charley’s guardian for very long.”
“Merely an absentee guardian until now,” Monty said evasively.
