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They stood in silence, both waiting for the other to cave, both refusing to be the first to do so.

Finally, she sighed. “As I see it, you have three options.” She raised a gloved finger. “The first, you allow me to go on my own and keep silent about it, offering me the chance to live out my life the way I wish to. The second”—she held up another finger—“you make for Daffley and tell my father my plan, thereby ruining my chance at freedom. This may sound the obvious solution, but you see, I shall already be gone on the coach before either of you have the chance to stop me, and my reputation will already be at risk.”

Edward listened with growing unease. Perhaps Miss Coventry was not so daft as he’d thought. She certainly knew how to play his own logic against her senselessness, for her words were beginning to sound sensible to him.

She drew a deep breath and continued with three fingers raised. “Finally, your third option is to accompany me to Wells.”

Well, she had certainly lost him there. He barked out a disbelieving laugh. “You cannot be serious, Miss Coventry. How could—”

She reached up, holding a finger against his lips and looking around. Fortunately, the street was still vacant. Unfortunately, her touch had rendered him as useless as an unsharpened hatchet. His heart stopped, resuming a second later with slow, irregular taps against his swelling chest.

She turned back to look at him, stared at her finger touching his lips, then swiftly pulled away. The warmth lingered like hot tea on his lips.

“You mustn’t say my name,” she murmured.

He nodded, still unable to push a word from his mouth, though his thoughts continued. Was she entirely unaware of the risks to both of them should they be discovered at any point during their absence? They’d be accused of horrible things. Her reputation would be destroyed. He’d be released from his job. He’d lose his one source of income, his chance to finally escape poverty.

“I take it you did not appreciate my third suggestion,” she said, smoothing the outside of her cloak.

Finally, he forced out his words. “Only because such an idea could never work. I could keep you from danger, yes. But all the risks would remain the same—being discovered, your reputation, my work at Daffley—”

“I would ensure that will not change,” she blurted out.

He regarded her skeptically, and she hid the flicker of doubt in her eyes. “You can promise no such thing,” he said. Then he glanced to the maid who stood a distance away. He and Miss Coventry had been speaking softly enough for the young woman to hear only pieces of their conversation, but he lowered his tone even more. “What if someone else informs your father of your departure from Daffley?”

Miss Coventry picked up on his insinuation in an instant. “I’ve paid her for her silence, as well.”

That meant very little to Edward. Money only went so far when a person’s livelihood was at stake.

“Your presence would help me,” Miss Coventry’s soft voice drifted toward him, her expression vulnerable. “Especially at the assembly. You could be my chaperone.”

“You know that would not be proper. I am not your brother, nor am I married myself.”

She wrung her hands together. “No…but you could pretend to be my husband for the evening.”

His mouth dropped open. Just when he thought she could not surprise him further. “Do you know what it is you are even asking me to do?”

Finally, she sobered, looking up at him with rounded eyes akin to a lost child. “Yes, Mr. Steele. I am asking you to help me live for just one evening.”

Her words struck his conscience. He wanted to help her. Truly, he did. But there were things that could not be solved, matters that could not be ignored.

“How would I explain my own absence to your father and the rest of the household who expect to see me?” He did not wish to encourage hope by asking such a question, but perhaps she would cease her endeavors if she realized how difficult the task was that she asked of him.

She thought for a moment. “My father is not entirely unreasonable. Send a note requesting the day to recoup from your early mornings and late evenings. He will understand.”

Perhaps. But Mr. Coventry would not understand Edward taking time away from work to gallivant around Wells with the man’s daughter.

“I will compensate you for your efforts,” Miss Coventry offered next, clearly attempting to sweeten the offer.

He cringed at the very notion. “I would never accept your money, especially when there is potential for ruining your reputation. Heavens, the risk involved…” He ended with a shake of his head.

“I am well aware of the risks in regard to myself, sir. And I am willing to subject myself to such.”

She certainly did not know of the greatest risk of all—the risk of her reputation being tainted simply by conversing with a Steele. Being alone in a different town with one would be catastrophic. How could he subject her to that? How could he risk everything for that?

“I do not wish to injure you,” he said softly, unable to share the gravity of the rumors surrounding his father, the rumors they’d all tried so hard to leave behind.

Miss Coventry’s shoulders fell forward, and she nodded contritely. “I understand why that is your answer, sir, and I accept that your mind has been made up. But then, so has mine. Good day, Mr. Steele.”