Devon laughed. But Beth, reaching the ground, called up, “You should hope not! Handsome men are all too often scoundrels!”
“You think I’m handsome, Miss Pickering?” Devon asked, and only the fact that just then she glimpsed Cholmbaumgh and Schreib through the inn’s dining room window saved Beth from making a sassy, bantering reply. A moment later Devon dropped to the ground beside her and, catching her hand in his, pulled her into a run across the courtyard toward a gated fence, beyond which lay the road.
“Really, this constant towing of me is unnecessary,” Beth complained.
“I’m not towing you,” Devon said. “I’m using you as ballast.” And yet his grip loosened, so that she might easily withdraw from it if she wanted. Beth, however, did have to admit he provided a convenient ballast for her too. She tightened her own grip, Devon pushed open the gate, and they dashed out.
And came to a sudden, jolting halt at the sight of the French fishermen standing at the inn’s entrance, all peering at a map one of them held open.
“Damn,” Devon muttered. He very nearly yanked Beth’s arm from its socket as he began towing her even faster up the street.
Determined not to surrender every nicety, Beth called outin wayward French. “Hello! I see you there!”(“Bonjour! J’ai peur, sauve-moi!”)
Immediately, all four men began shouting and pointing to her. Beth was surprised to hear a tone of anger in their voices. Then Cholmbaumgh and Schreib emerged from the inn, plowing into their ranks, and a skirmish immediately broke out.
“We should go to help our friends,” Beth said, glancing back with concern.
Devon laughed darkly in response. “No, thank you. We’ll be lucky to outrun any of them as it is.”
Just then, a milkman’s wagon drove past the group. Devon’s eyes lit up, and thus Beth received half a second’s warning before he tugged her into the middle of the road.
“Oh no,” she said. “Not another hijacking.”
“Do you want to escape Schreib and Cholmbaumgh and get to the train on time?” Devon asked as he pulled a gun from beneath his coat. Beth stared at it in surprise.
“I thought you gave that to Miss Marin yesterday.”
He cast her a wry look. “What kind of ornithologist would I be if I didn’t keep a hidden weapon?” Extending his arm, he pointed the gun at the milkman, who gave a startled shout and reined in his horse.
“We’re taking your wagon!” Devon called out.
“Dreadfully sorry!” Beth added with a small wave.
They clambered onto the driver’s bench, forcing the milkman to its edge. Snatching the reins, shouting “Hyah!” Devon sent the horses into a gallop. The wagon juddered wildly, and bottles rattled against each other in their crates.
“Stop!” the milkman wailed, clinging desperately to the bench. “You’ll spill the milk!”
Devon flashed a sidelong grin at Beth. “Shall I tell him not to cry over it? Or shall I butter him up instead?”
She clicked her tongue with exasperation. “It’s bad enough you keep hijacking people, do you have to add the crime of cheesy jokes?”
She heard the pun a moment after she said it and winced. The man was corrupting her even at the subconscious level!
Devon laughed. “You are the cream of the crop, Miss Pickering,” he said. And it was like he’d kissed her again—the warmth, the tingles, making her blush like a fool.
“Oh God, please stop!” the milkman begged. “Hijack me if you must, but no more bad puns!”
“Sorry!” they said in unison. And Beth lowered her face to hide a smile as the wagon carried them into the sunlit wind.
—
“So this isgoodbye.”
She stared at the train ticket in her hand. It had taken almost all her money, but that was fine, she would visit a bank the moment she arrived in London. And then she would buy new clothes, new shoes, perhaps a new field guide while she was at it, something scholarly—
“Miss Pickering,” Devon said for the second time, and she drew a deep breath before raising her head to smile at him pleasantly. He smiled back, of course he did, all heedless flair and confidence, entirely untroubled by their parting.
Her heart drooped. She did not like this man, nor respect him, nor feel any ache at the thought she’d never again talk with him about birds, or kiss him in a tiny, secret room while a storm raged outside.
