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“But you – you always made your dislike of me quite plain when you called at Sitwell Place!” she rallied hotly.

“As did you of me,” he pointed out, narrowing his eyes.

“Precisely!”

“Things change,” he said, his gaze wandering over what he could see of her beneath that enveloping black cloak.

“Not that quickly!”

“Oh yes they do, Lizzie Toomes,” he said lowering his voice. “I’m attracted to you, alright. You need have no doubts on that score.”

“Since when?” she flung at him. “I don’t believe you!”

“I’ve wanted you since you faced down that parson at your uncle’s table,” he retorted, surprising himself as much as her.

Lizzie stared at him. “Since – ” she repeated blankly before swallowing her words. “But …” Again her words led nowhere. He waited impatiently. “But that’s preposterous! I mean, it makes no earthly sense!” she persevered, clearly struggling for words at this point.

“I can make you want me too, given the chance,” he said in a low voice. Lizzie gasped and turned to stare straight ahead. He felt her arm tremble where he touched her and it encouraged him, for he did not think it was with fear precisely. At least he hoped it was not.

“Well, it is your right, of course,” she admitted jerkily. “I just never imagined you would claim it.”

Now it was his turn to be surprised. “You never imagined I would want to bed my own wife?” he asked skeptically.

“Not when I was simply a last minute substitute you felt forced to take.”

“Forced?” he repeated, blinking. “And just who do you imagine forced me?”

“Your own sense of chivalry, I suppose,” a clearly flustered Lizzie responded.

“My sense of what?” He was so startled by this he actually laughed out loud. Lizzie clenched her fists, a spark entering her eye, but just then a rowdy bunch of young men came barging past them, waving paper flags and singing loudly.

The song was a bawdy one, and their voices raucously upraised. Benedict reached out and drew Lizzie close against him until they had surged past. She did not struggle to break free, and he kept his arms about her as the song faded into the jostling crowd.

“The way you put it, as I recall,” she said against his top shirt button. “Was that we were both backed into a tight corner and could use each other to our mutual advantage.”

He frowned. “Was that how I put it?” He could scarcely remember now as he felt her breath tickling his throat. He just knew he had been determined to pursue her. His vehemence had struck him, even at the time, as a little odd. When the crowd had dispersed a little, he released her, retaining a firm hold of her arm.

“You recall yesterday when you said I possessed certain qualities you admired,” Lizzie asked in a stifled voice.

“Yes.”

“Did you speak the truth?”

He stole a sideways glance at her, but her gaze was trained straight ahead. “I did.”

“What were they?”

“You don’t back down from a fight,” he answered promptly.

She looked at him then but almost immediately turned away again. “I see,” she said, though he had to concentrate to hear her voice against all the shouted laughter and background noise. Suddenly, she came to an abrupt stop. “Very well, then,” she said. “Let’s return to the wagon.”

She didn’t need to tell him twice. Immediately on their return he set about building a small fire to heat the water for washing. Wordlessly, Lizzie joined him in collecting nearby branches and twigs. Once it was lit and he’d encouraged the flames to take, he collected the pail from the wagon to fetch more water.

“Don’t stray far,” he warned, and she nodded. Perhaps, he pondered as he walked the five minutes to the well, he should have put their wagon closer to those of his family. There was safety in numbers, and he did not like to think of Lizzie left alone and unprotected at the wagon. Then again, proximity to his family had its own drawbacks.

This business of campfires seemed, for the first time in his life, an onerous task when he had better things to do. Perhaps a small stove, such as the ones circus performers used, would serve better. He had never considered purchasing one before, and a chimney would have to be installed, he thought with disfavor. Still, it was an option.

When he returned, Lizzie was patting their horse which was tethered near the wagon. Seeing him, she approached and threw the last of her branches into the fire. “Shall I fetch more?” she asked.