“The first vision was of Olivia and George. She was crying in his shop. I don’t know why, but I was sure they were both angry. The next was of a man with dark hair.” Ellen felt color fill her cheeks.
“What?” He leaned closer.
“He was, ah, naked and lying on his side.”
“Naked?”
“I only saw his back view,” she rushed to add. “I mean… well, you know what I mean.”
He looked out the window of the carriage.
“Are you laughing at me?” Ellen demanded when she noted the side of his mouth twitch.
“Absolutely not. I was just thinking.”
“You are laughing at me!”
His face might be serious, but his eyes were alive with humor.
“Yes, yes, very amusing. Now tell me what you got out of that interview,” Ellen said.
“Do you think the naked man could have been this Dunstan fellow?”
“I wondered about that, but until I see him, I can’t know.”
“Was he big or small? An Adonis or…?”
“Are you teasing me now? Because if you are, I will never again go to an interview with you.”
“Miss Nightingale, do I appear to be the type of man who teases people?” he said solemnly.
“There is a type?” she asked in an excruciatingly polite tone.
“I’m just attempting to work out who I am looking for or if I come across a naked man draped in scarlet velvet how to identify him,” he said.
His face was serious, so she couldn’t be absolutely sure but thought he was teasing her.
“Miss Denton asked me if you were married or had a special woman in your life. She seemed very interested in you,” Ellen said to annoy him.
“She what?” His dark brows drew together.
“I think she sees herself as the next Mrs. Fletcher. Of course, I told her you were actually a nobleman’s son, and that interested her further, so expect some kind of communication going forward, as I also gave her your address.”
He shuddered. “That was cruel, Miss Nightingale, and if I thought you were serious, I would be extremely angry right now.”
“How do you know I’m not?”
He shrugged. “You have brothers and would hate for one of them to be subjected to women like Miss Denton.”
“She is not bad, just spoiled is my guess.”
“Yes, I would agree with that,” he said. “Would you recognize this man if you saw him, Miss Nightingale? The one in your vision?”
“It was only a rear view, but his arm was raised… a mark,” Ellen said, closing her eyes as she recalled the memory. “I remember it now. At the time, I was still recovering from George and Olivia Nicholson’s anger.”
“You feel things when you have these visions?”
She nodded, eyes still closed. Something warm settled on her hand, the one she hadn’t realized she’d clenched in her lap.
