Harry raked his fingers through his thick, fair hair, spoiling its careful arrangement. “So, I’m to go happily home, with the knowledge that you will be ravished and murdered in a day or so? Is that your opinion of me?”
“I think you’re a very nice man,” she said coolly. “But apart from our fathers’ putting their heads together, you have nothing to do with my life or what I choose to do with it.”
Harry folded his arms and leaned back against the stable door. “May I ask your destination? Just as a matter of interest?”
“Ireland.”
“Jack’s on his way there.” He tilted his head to the side. “What’s the attraction of Ireland?”
“My mother’s family lives just outside Dublin.”
“How long had it been since you’ve seen them?”
She turned away to stroke Jessie’s smooth head thrust over the top of the stable door. “I’ve never met them.”
He slapped his thigh. “Ho!”
“What does ‘ho’ mean, precisely?” she asked, turning toward him.
“That my suspicions are proved correct. This is a madcap scheme, Erina. And you know it.”
She lifted her chin. “I don’t see why.”
“You should write to them. Perhaps someone will come to England to visit you.”
“I don’t have time to,” she snapped. “And you knowthatfull well.”
“I see.” Harry moved away from the door. “If you stay, you will be forced into marriage. With me. The very worst thing that could happen to a lady.”
Erina raised her hand. “Harry, that’s not true. I like you; I do. But I don’t love you.” She frowned. “And you don’t love me.”
“Please don’t tell me what I feel or don’t feel.” He stalked the length of the stables and back. “Before I leave here tomorrow, will you promise you will not go off on this dangerous expedition? We can discuss it again when we meet in London.”
“We have only a matter of days. And once I’m in London without my horse, I’ll be stuck.”
She stepped closer to coax him onside and placed her hand on his claret silk waistcoat. Beneath it, his chest felt muscular and strong. Somehow, she’d never thought of him in that way. Hastily, she withdrew her hand. “Will you help me?”
“‘Help’ you? Good Lord, Erina, what are you asking of me?”
“To defy your father and mine, Harry.”
“Contrary to what you obviously believe, I am no longer ruled by my father. But he has his heart set on this union. I am fond of him and hate to disappoint him. He has wanted me to settle down for some time. Says he might turn up his toes without seeing his firstgrandchild.” Harry paused. “If we just give it time, I’m sure he’ll relent…” He paused and raised an eyebrow. “Help you to do what, exactly?”
She grasped her hands together. “Come with me. At least see me onto the boat at Holyhead. I’ll manage from there.”
“Apart from everything else, you truly believe I would ride all the way to Holyhead?” he spluttered. “I’d rather travel on the back of a hay wagon.”
She eyed him carefully. Might he be relenting? It would be so much easier if he took her there. She’d decided riding would cause difficulties, and the stagecoach would be horrid. “You must own a vehicle of some kind. Or can’t you hire one? It won’t raise eyebrows if we’re two men traveling together.”
“Ha! You think you’d make a convincing man?”
“I’ll cut my hair.”
“You wouldn’t look like a man if you shaved your head and dressed in a subaltern’s uniform.”
“Why? I’m tall enough.”
“Your…” He waved a vague hand, his gaze flitting over her. “Figure.”
