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“There is nothing untoward in what I am attempting, if that is what concerns you,” Lavinia began. “Nothing of a sinister nature, that is. I haven’t broken any laws, nor do I plan to.” Heavens, but Lucas Jennings was an extraordinarily large specimen of a man. She hadn’t realized how exceedingly tall and muscular he was when he’d been sitting, staring at a crumpled piece of paper downstairs. He’d seemed the safest choice to her then. Now it was taking all her acting ability to keep the unease she felt hidden from him. She didn’t know the man at all, shewas in his private room, and he looked like he could break a small tree in half.
He looked in the direction of his saddlebag, which sat on the floor near a corner of the bed.
“I didn’t evenpeepinside your bag, Mr. Jennings.”
He turned back to her. “I will take your word on that particular point, ma’am, and yet I have other suspicions I would have addressed. The cosmetics on your face, for example.”
Her hands flew to her cheeks. When had he had a chance to notice? Their initial encounter in the dining room had caught him off his guard, she’d known it, and she’d been careful to keep her head down since then. Unless . . .
Her stomach dropped to the vicinity of her toes. What a reckless fool she’d been! She had no idea how long he’d been in the room before closing the door loudly enough to wake her. And yet he had acted the gentleman so far. “You watched me sleep,” she said. “Yet you didn’t touch me.”
“I didnotwatch you sleep, just to be clear, but I am also not blind,” he replied. He twirled his hand in the direction of her face. “I recognize a disguise when I see one.”
Lavinia rubbed two fingers across her cheeks and looked at her fingertips. They were as gray and pasty as the dress she wore. “As you say. I used them to disguise my face a bit,” she said. “I was to meet up with friends, but I was traveling alone until then. It was a means to help me feel safer on my own.”
“You have no maid or lady’s companion, then,” he said.
Since that was clearly the case, his next deduction would be that she wasn’t a lady, and he would be correct. Lavinia’s roots were decidedly common. But being born and raised in a traveling theater troupe, she’d paid attention to the way people had spoken in the various parts of the country they’d visited and had trained herself as best she could to speak as a lady, as she was doing now, in addition to mastering several regional dialects. She was a good mimic, her father had always said.
“One of the people I was to meet serves as my maid when needed,although she is a friend rather than a servant. We are on our way north. I was to meet them here, at the White Horse, but I suspect they mistakenly went to an establishment called the White Hart instead.” Blast the Earl of Cosgrove and all men like him! She would be safely on her way north to Primrose Farm with Hannah, Delia, and Artie right now if Cosgrove had not persisted in being such a nuisance.
There was nothing Lavinia could do tonight to locate them, however; she would have to begin her search in the morning. And if that failed, she would catch up to them at the next post-stage.
“I assume your—er—attire is part of the disguise as well?” Mr. Jennings asked, grimacing as he looked her up and down.
She tugged her cloak closer. “Yes.”
“That was where you went wrong, Miss Fernley. I suspect it was your so-calleddisguisethat drew the attention of the gentlemen downstairs instead of avoiding it. It’s”—his hand was waving at her again—“too much. Almost theatrical.”
Theatrical? That was theworstthing Mr. Jennings could possibly have said since looking theatrical was the last thing Lavinia wanted. She had been so concerned she’d be recognized she hadn’t stopped to consider the possibility that she may have overdone it.
Would she have realized it anyway? Even her regular clothes were more like costumes than anything else. She was always playing a part, always on stage, no matter where she was: Ruby Chadwick, delightfully attired in sprigged muslin as she strolled through Hyde Park; Ruby Chadwick, a vision in gold satin at Lady Cowper’s soiree; The Darling of Drury Lane, smartly dressed in a pale-blue day dress, shopping on Bond Street . . .
“Ahem.”
Lavinia started. “Sorry.”
“Drifting off to sleep again or woolgathering?” Mr. Jennings asked. “I must be frank, Miss Fernley. Having a woman in disguise running to me for assistance is unsettling. It also suggests a certain willingness on your part to deceive others. It makes one suspicious.”
“I have not lied to you, Mr. Jennings,” she replied, hearing her voice rise despite the hour and knowing the guests in neighboring rooms would be trying to sleep. But she was exhausted and worried about the others, and dealing with Lord Cosgrove had frayed her nerves. “My name is indeed Lavinia Fernley, sir. I was on my way to meet my friends so we could journey north to a small farm I inherited from a family member. Since I was traveling alone until then, I wished to avoid drawing attention to myself, although it appears, at least according to you, that my overly enthusiastic disguise accomplished the exact opposite, nearly resulting in my being recognized and requiring me to act quickly.” Lavinia stood, picked up her bag, and strode to the door. “I apologize for my intrusion upon your privacy and thank you for your assistance downstairs and for the food,” she said in a lofty tone. “Now, I shall bid you adieu and good night.” She reached for the doorknob.
Behind her, she heard a slow clap. She turned.
“Brava, Miss Fernley,” Mr. Jennings said. “That was quite a performance, I must say, however unnecessary. You are not the little gray goose your appearance would lead one to believe, that it certain. Now, please sit down. I’m tired; you’re obviously tired, from what I saw when I returned to the room; and I’m satisfied that you aren’t going to rob me blind during the night.”
Lavinia dropped her bag with a thud.
“Sit, Miss Fernley,” he said, gesturing at the empty chair.
She sat.
“That’s better,” Mr. Jennings said. “Tomorrow after breakfast, we will ask our host if there are any establishments nearby called the White Hart. Does that meet with your approval?”
“Yes.” Lavinia let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and relaxed for the first time all day. “Thank you.”
“Unfortunately, we do not know if your gentleman acquaintance and his friends have taken rooms here at the inn for the night, so we shall have to act the happily married couple for now. As such, we should get used to calling each other by our Christian names. You may call me Lucas.”
