Page 85 of Bane Bloom

“Cricket, is everything all right?” He eyed me anxiously.

“Indeed, all is well. Hamish, please allow me to apologize again for earlier.”

“It’s really not necessary. I may perhaps have been overly . . .” He studied me a moment. “No matter. Though I was disappointed to lose our dance, I took no offense. Are you going back inside?”

I nodded. “Though I fear I’m fading, and worry I’ll be a damper on the festive mood.”

I’d said this to stave off any more invitations to dance, but I had miscalculated. “I’m going home now,” he said. “I’m happy to drive you to Pine Cottage.”

For a tick or two, I weighed this in my mind. I was ready to go home, and I had no wish to drag Annie or her husband away from their party. Nor was I in any frame of mind to spend a night away from the cottage. But if what Thomas had said about Hamish was true, would it be wise to ride home alone with him? It wasn’t a question of his being a gentleman. Only that the last thing I wished to do this evening was manage the expectations of a suitor.

At least not this particular suitor.

The door opened again, and our hostess appeared. “Ah, you’ve found our wandering Londoner,” she said with relief and affection. “Cricket, you’re just in time for the bonfire. Bill’s coming out directly to light it.” Her gaze flitted behind me, possibly looking for Thomas.

A few people had already found their way out to the woodpile. Moonlight glinted off ale tankards, and I heard low chatter and laughter.

“Annie, I think I must go home, I’m sorry.” I meant it. It wrenched me to refuse her.

She frowned, eyeing me more closely. “Are you well? Has Thomas gone home?” I think she would have probed deeper had Hamish not been there.

“Yes, I’m simply tired. I’ve kept early hours at Pine Cottage.” Annie was clearly not buying this, and I quickly added, “Thank you so much for the invitation. I’ll come tomorrow for the maypole if I can.”

“Do. And I’ll ask Bill to take you home once the bonfire is lit.”

“No need for that,” said Hamish. “I’m going home myself and am happy to take her.”

Annie, brows lifting, looked to me for confirmation, and I said, “Indeed, Hamish has kindly offered to drive me.”

“Well,” she said, “if Cricket doesn’t mind and it’s no trouble, I’ll thank you for it. And I hope we’ll see you tomorrow as well.”

“I shall certainly come.”

Annie squeezed my hand, and we said good night—though I could see the questions straining inside her.

I walked with Hamish to his gig, which was parked across the road in front of the dry goods shop. Meant for transporting one or two people, the gig was cozy compared to the farm cart. The hood, too, made it feel more intimate. Hamish handed me up, and I was struck by the difference; I hardly thought about the fact our fingers were touching, and I didn’t meet his gaze. As he climbed in beside me, I didn’t flush or shiver.

Taking the reins, he asked lightly, “Did you find Thomas?”

Smiling and attempting to match his tone, I replied, “I did, yes.”

Hard as I tried not to think about what Thomas had told me, I failed. I wondered at Hamish fixing on me, whom he’d only just met. The neighborhood was rather confined, so perhaps he hadn’t many options. It might be that he was old enough not to wish for an apple-cheeked bride, which at thirty I could hardly consider myself. Yet I was young enough still to have children, which would likely be important to him. And a dowry might not be, as he appeared quite successful.

From a pragmatic standpoint, a courtship between us made sense—for both of us. Thomas had seen that. And how it still stung!

“I hope . . .” Ham shifted uncomfortably on the seat. “I hope you’re finding it tolerable at Pine Cottage on your own. I like and respect Thomas, but I don’t imagine he’s much company for you.” He glanced at me. “Though the two of you seem to get on.”

I did flush now, and was grateful for the darkness. “He was rather brusque at first. I don’t think he was pleased I had been sent. But who could blame him, really?”

Ham nodded. “I’ve always thought it wrong of the apothecaries not to have signed the house over to Miss Bane after both of her parents died. But I’m sorry if he’s taking out any grievances on you.”

“We got past the awkwardness soon enough.” A memory of Thomas shifting his body over mine in my narrow bed came unbidden, and the carriage began to feel stuffy.

I could feel Hamish’s eyes on my profile, and I swallowed. “I’m glad to hear it,” he said.

We were entering the woods now. Moonlight dappled the road, but all else was deep in shadow. I wondered whether the queen had come back here. I wondered how long our truce could hold.

Until she calls my bluff.