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Eve was constantly peppering me with questions, and Flora had caught the wedding fever and was doing her best to plan a wedding for me, or maybe two or three in one go while she was at it. Only Anne and Maria were truly reliable. They hated my guts just like before. Only a lot, lot, more. Relatives you can truly depend on are such a comfort, aren’t they?
Finally, the day of departure arrived.
‘Are you sure you’re well enough? We could wait another few days and—’
‘Stop fussing, Edmund,’ Ella ordered with a smile that said she’d like nothing better than for him to continue. ‘I’m fine. And besides…’ She glanced at me. ‘We should get home. We’ve got things to take care of.’
I squeezed her hand. It was warm and smooth, nothing like the paper-dry skeleton fingers of only a week or so ago.
‘Well, let’s go then.’ Nodding to Karim, I strode toward the door—which he promptly held open for me. Mr and Mrs Conway exchanged looks. Anne and Maria exchanged scowls.
‘You came with two coaches, didn’t you?’ Patsy asked. ‘Will we all fit, or should I hire an extra?’
‘Oh, I think we’ll fit.’ I grinned. ‘And if not, you can always sit next to Karim on the box. I’m sure he’d love the company.’
Before either of the two could dismember me with their looks, I slipped into the nearest coach.
Under the stern eyes of Karim, it didn’t take long for the hotel staff to load our luggage onto the coaches. Soon, he swu
ng himself onto the box—of the coach Patsy was sitting in, as it happened. Trying not to smile, I leaned back into the plush seat.
‘Gee-up!’
The coach jerked and started rolling forward. Smoothly, we slid along the palatial façades of Bath. As soon as we reached the outskirts of the town, riders appeared on both sides of the coaches—plain-dressed men in black and grey, with sharp eyes and forgettable faces.
Maria glanced out of the window, shifting nervously. ‘Who’re they?’
I smiled. ‘Insurance.’
The others exchanged looks, but none of them knew quite what to say.
Around mid-day, I knocked against the coach roof with my parasol.
‘Stop, please!’
The coachman veered off to the side and brought the coach to a halt at the side of the road. Pushing open the door, I slid out. One of the riders galloped up and brought his mount to a stop right beside me.
‘What is it, Miss?’
‘This.’ Raising my parasol, I pointed at a picturesque little inn beside the road. ‘It’s time for lunch, don’t you think?’
The rider cleared his throat. ‘We have instructions to proceed with all deliberate speed, Miss.’
‘And that we are,’ I told him with a smile, ‘to the nearest inn, in order to have lunch. Please help the other ladies out of the coach.’
The man hesitated, glancing back, then forward again, as if looking for some invisible authority.
‘He’s not here,’ I informed him with a cool smile. ‘I am.’
The rider made a decision. ‘Yes. Lunch, Miss. Immediately, as you say.’
‘Thank you.’
Still smiling, I turned back towards the coach—only to find every single occupant staring at me with eyes wide open.
‘Who do those men think you are?’ Anne demanded. ‘The Queen of England?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ I waved her away. ‘The Queen isn’t nearly as pretty as I am.’
