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Chapter 7
Lavinia watched Lucas tromp throughthe mud, his wide shoulders hunched over in the downpour. The rain drummed constantly on the roof of the carriage and slashed at the windows.
He wore no greatcoat, only the traveling clothes he’d been wearing yesterday. He was going to be soaked to the skin in no time.
“Where is he now?” Artie asked from his position on the floor of the carriage.
Lavinia leaned closer to the window, using her handkerchief to clear away the moisture that had formed there so she could get a better glimpse of Lucas. He’d nearly reached Mr. Grimes, who had already unhitched the horses, including Lucas’s, and had led them off to the side of the road where they could calm themselves and graze after becoming agitated by the mishap.
“He’s speaking with the coachman,” Lavinia replied, reluctant to drag her eyes from his receding figure.
“That’s good, then,” Delia said.
Lavinia heard shuffling and turned away from the window to look. Delia was propping herself up on her hands so she could sit up.
“What’s going on?” Hannah asked.
“I say, brilliantly done, Delia,” Artie said. “You were always the best, my dear.”
“Hardly that, Arthur,” Delia said, patting her fluffy hair back into place as best she could. “Although I do pride myself on producing quality work, if I must say so myself.”
Hannah shook her head.
“Delia, what are you up to?” Lavinia asked.
“It should be obvious, Livvy,” Delia replied. “I was ensuring that our escort remain with us until we arrive at Primrose Farm.”
“She always was the best fainter onstage,” Artie exclaimed proudly. “You are just as impressive a fainter up close, my dear. I was thoroughly convinced you were in agonizing pain, even though I was fairly certain I knew what you were about. Well done!” He clapped.
Lavinia rolled her eyes. “Next you’ll be telling me you planned for the carriage to break a wheel.”
“Don’t be foolish, Lavinia,” Delia said. “That was merely an opportune moment.”
“Perfect dramatic timing,” Artie added.
“I would have found another reason to faint if that carriage wheel hadn’t broken as it did.”
“You weren’t injured at all, were you?” Lavinia said accusingly. “Mr. Jennings had already agreed to accompany us. I don’t see that this little antic of yours was called for in the least.”
“It wasn’t any different than whatyoudid,” Artie said. “You threw yourself in his lap and called him your husband. Inpublic.”
“That wasentirelydifferent. I hadn’t planned it ahead of time and only did it when it appeared I was about to be recognized by one of Cosgrove’s nasty little minions.”
“Now, dearie,” Delia said. “It isn’t as if I didn’t get jostled and bruised a bit. I’ll be sore for a day or two; Hannah does have a sharp elbow, but a good actor takes his—or her—lumps. It’s all part of the craft. But have you taken a goodlookat that fellow, Lavinia? He’s a tall, brawny, utterly splendid specimen of masculinity.Andhe’s a gentleman with all his manners intact. These types don’t show themselves very often, especially lurking backstage after performances, I’m sorry to say. Perhaps he did agree to accompany us to Primrose Farm, but a little insurance never hurt anyone.”
“You’re the cleverest girl I know, Delia, and your performance was first-rate—but surely he’s too young for you?” Artie asked a bit anxiously.
Hannah snorted and shook her head again.
“Arthur,” Delia said gently, “you’re the dearest man in the world, and thank you for thinking I’m still capable of attracting such a handsome young man at my age. But, gracious, I’m not thinking of keeping Mr. Jennings around formyself. It’sLivvyI’m thinking about.”
“Ah, of course,” Artie said.
“Delia,nomatchmaking, and I mean it,” Lavinia warned. “I’ve had my fill of men—the flowers and flirting and propositions . . . not to mention my name appearing in the betting books at all the gentlemen’s clubs. Oh yes, I’ve heard the stories. We’ve worked too hard for this little bit of independence, and for the first time, we will actually have a place to call home and put down real roots. I’ll not be tossing it all aside on the first attractive gentleman with whom I cross paths—”
“Aha! So youdofind him attractive, then!” Delia said in a triumphant tone that couldn’t help but irk Lavinia.
“Well, of course I find him attractive,” she retorted. “What young lady wouldn’t? And of course I’m indebted to him for coming to my rescue and for helping me find all of you this morning—”
