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‘Neither will I, most likely. I’m a sailor whose father was a footman-turned-baker, remember?’
‘It’s different and you know it. You’re a blood relation. I’m just...’
‘Don’t.’ He lifted a hand, his dark eyes flashing so brightly it was as though lightning had just streaked across them. ‘Whatever you were about to say, don’t. You’re not just anything. If other members of my family have a problem with you, then we’ll turn straight around and come back.’
Henrietta swallowed. Ten minutes ago she’d resolved to throw him out of her life for believing gossip about her. Five minutes ago she’d been clasped in his arms, kissing him with a quite shameless amount of enthusiasm. Now he was asking her to go away with him. She felt as though time were accelerating. She’d only just accepted the possibility of their being more than friends...
‘This is ridiculous.’ She shook her head against the temptation to say yes. ‘Nancy, tell him how ridiculous he’s being.’
‘Personally, I think it’s the most sensible thing I’ve ever heard him say.’ Nancy unfolded her arms. ‘I presume he’s apologised?’
‘What?’ Henrietta looked between the two of them in consternation. ‘You wanted to throw a bucket of water at him a few moments ago!’
‘Yes, well, the cold water’s given me a chance to reconsider and now I think it’s the perfect answer. You could do with a rest after the past couple of months and it would take the boys’ minds off their father.’
‘What about the shop?’
‘Belinda can move in.’
‘Oh! Can I?’ Belinda clapped her hands so enthusiastically that a cloud of white dust billowed into the air, making them all cough.
‘Yes,’ Nancy spluttered as she waved her arms around. ‘I’ll make a baker of you if it’s the last thing I do. Which will be much easier without so many people under my feet.’
‘But what will people say?’ Henrietta drew her brows together at her own question. The gossips would no doubt say that she was up to her old tricks again, trying to seduce yet another employer’s son. She might as well confirm everything bad they’d ever said about her. Mrs Willerby would be particularly delighted. And the worst of it was that this time there’d be some truth in the accusations. She’d kissed Sebastian. If it hadn’t been for the interruption, she would have kissed him some more. Given the opportunity, it was entirely likely she’d kiss him again. Which made travelling north with him probably the worst idea in the world. And yet, insane as it sounded, she wanted to go.
I won’t be a mistake... She didn’t know what the future held, but she knew those words at least were true. If she trusted any man, it was him.
‘I’ll go a day ahead and meet you in Bristol,’ Sebastian offered. ‘Then no one in Bath will know that we’re travelling together. You can say that you’re going to visit Anna.’
‘No.’ She pulled her shoulders back. ‘I’ve wasted enough time caring about what people say about me. They’ll never change their minds anyway. In their eyes, I’ll always be either a fortune hunter or an ice queen and I don’t want to be either. From now on, I’m going to be myself and let people interpret that however they please.’
Sebastian’s gaze warmed. ‘Then you’ll come to Yorkshire with me?’
She sucked in a deep breath, struck with the feeling that the whole of her future depended on this one moment. ‘Yes. We’ll go together.’
Chapter Fourteen
‘Are we there yet?’ Michael flung his head back against the seat with a loud sigh. ‘We’ve been in this stagecoach for ever! It must be time to stop soon.’
‘I told you the journey would take a few days.’ Henrietta gritted her teeth, trying to sound sympathetic, although if he asked the question one more time, she thought she might open the door and jump out from sheer exasperation. It wasn’t as if she was any more comfortable than he was! In fact, she was undoubtedly a lot less comfortable. Oliver and Peter had both fallen asleep, one on her knee, the other leaning against her shoulder, making it impossible for her to move for the last hour. Belles in biscuit tins were treated better than this, she thought, ironically. At least they came individually wrapped in tissue paper, something she might have used to make the headrest more comfortable. Every part of her ached or was numb with fatigue, but at least Michael was right about one thing. Surely it had to be time to stop soon... ‘Are you warm enough?’
‘Yes.’ Michael scowled at the blanket tucked over his lap. ‘But I’d rather ride up top like Sebastian.’
‘It’s far too cold for that.’
‘It’s not too cold for him!’
‘Yes, well...he’s a grown man.’ Henrietta pursed her lips. She wasn’t particularly happy about Sebastian riding on the roof of a violently swaying stagecoach in the middle of winter either, but unlike her three charges, she had no right to tell him what to do—besides, there hadn’t been any alternative. Between her and the boys squeezed on to one side and a middle-aged couple and their teenage daughter on the other, the carriage was already bursting at the seams.
‘Sebastian said a good sailor doesn’t complain.’ Peter mumbled sleepily across her. ‘I bet he was talking to you.’
‘He was not!’
‘No arguing!’ Henrietta felt as though her temper were hanging by a single, extremely frayed thread. ‘Or we’ll get off at the next inn and go straight back to Bath.’
‘But...’
‘Not one more word until we stop again!’
