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Hannah shot Lucas a dark look before begrudgingly taking Mr. Drake’s proffered arm. Lucas watched Lavinia bite her lower lip in an attempt not to smile. He winged his elbow out for her to take.
“I have a suspicion, my dear Miss Fernley,” Lucas said in a low voice, “that, once again, there is more to your story than you are letting on.”
“And I find I must thank you once again, Mr. Jennings, for it is my suspicion that my friends have not broken their fast this morning. Your offer of tea was generous. Thank you.”
“On the chance your suspicions are correct, we shall have food sent in with the tea,” Lucas said. “Your two elderly friends in particular look as if they could use a hearty meal.”
They were the oddest group of traveling companions he had ever seen: a devastatingly beautiful young woman with a cranky nurse and a doddering old couple haring off to live on a farm, of all places. It seemed absurd. How had this motley group been formed? Why were they so intent on going to the country when it was obvious none of them—except, perhaps, the maid—had ever set foot on a farm before, at least in terms of understanding the harsh physical demands of farm life?
Lucas realized he could not, in good conscience, leave them to their own devices yet, nor was he ready to part ways with the intriguing young woman who’d landed in his lap the night before.
Home could wait for his arrival a bit longer.
* * *
“Ah,” the elderly Miss Weston said after taking a sip of her tea. “This is just the thing to soothe our anxieties away, Mr. Jennings. And ham and eggs too. Such a feast.” She cut off a minuscule piece of ham from the slice on her plate and chewed delicately. With her wispy white hair, which was refusing to stay in its knot on her head, and her diminutive size, Lucas thought she looked unearthly, like an ancient wood fairy choosing to associate with humans for a time.
“Delicious,” the elderly Mr. Drake added, dabbing his mouth with his napkin. “Dashed sporting of you to order breakfast for us all, Jennings, when some of us were less than grateful for your service to our dear Lavinia.” He shot a speaking glance at the nurse, Miss Broome.
“Men has been all alike when it comes to our girl, Artie, as you well know,” Miss Broome muttered back. “Who’s to say this one’s any different?” She glared accusingly at Lucas again.
“I am, Hannah,” Lavinia said. “And I told you before, it wasIwho imposed upon Mr. Jennings, not the other way around. When I reached the WhiteHorselate last night, there were complications, and Mr. Jennings came to my assistance. You owe him an apology.”
“Thank you for helping our girl, sir, and I’m that sorry for any inconvenience I may have caused you,” Miss Broome muttered, flushing red with embarrassment at the mention of the other inn.
“Apology accepted,” Lucas replied as seriously as he could.
They were interrupted by a knock at the door before it opened. “Beggin’your pardon,” a spotty-faced youth said, looking decidedly at the floor infront of his feet. “But I been sent to ask when you be plannin’ to be on your way.”
“Inform Mr. Grimes we shall be ready in a half hour’s time and I shall be speaking to him directly, Garrick,” Lavinia said. After the youth tugged on his forelock and left, she turned back to the others at the table. “Mr. Jennings and I broke our fast before we arrived, so if you’ll excuse me, I am going to make sure everything is in order with the coachman; you can join me once you’ve finished eating. It will be a long journey, so a hearty breakfast is important. That means you, Delia.”
The wizened fairy sighed and sliced off another minuscule piece of ham.
Lavinia set her napkin down and left the room. Lucas excused himself from the others and followed her.
“Lavinia,” he said when he caught up to her again. He took her by the elbow and led her down the corridor toward the back of the inn and around a corner, away from listening ears. “I know it isn’t my right to pry, but you are clearly no less vulnerable with your friends than you were last evening on your own. Who are they? And where is this farm you intend to take them to? You do understand that farming is hard physical labor, don’t you? The only person among you who looks suitable for such work is your sour-looking Miss Broome.”
“I’m stronger than I look,” she said. “And Delia and Artie can certainly help in small ways. We shall be fine.”
“I applaud your determination, but do you even have farming experience? Do your friends? Whoarethese people?” he asked again. Her loyalty to them was obvious—and admirable too, of course—but their association with her was baffling. “And where is this farm you say you possess?”
“Idopossess it,” she said. “I inherited it from my grandfather’s spinster sister.”
“Where is it located? What is its name? Have you even been to this farm of yours?”
She sighed. “You will not cease, will you? Very well. Primrose Farm, in Lincolnshire. And no, I have not been there yet, but—”
“Lincolnshire?” he asked. Here was a stroke of good fortune. He could legitimately continue toward home and still have an excuse for delaying his arrival there by playing the gentleman and escorting Lavinia and her friends. “As luck would have it, I am traveling to Lincolnshire myself. It would be my honor to accompany you and your friends on your journey and see to your safe arrival.”
Her eyes were silvery slits as she studied his face. “Where precisely in Lincolnshire are you going?” she asked.
“Alderwood, my family seat, located northeast of Stamford. My father is the Viscount Thurlby. And where is Primrose Farm to be found?”
“The illustrious son of a viscount, hmm?”
“Indeed.” More soldier than noble son, however.
“I’m not precisely sure where Primrose Farm is,” she replied, grimacing. “The letter I received from my great-aunt’s solicitor said only that it was near Sleaford.”
