Page 30 of The Viscount's Code
“That Ihadto accompany you. I never told Father about the books, but insteadIwill make sure that they are safe.”
She seemed so proud of herself for apparently having everything figured out, but all Anthony could focus on was why she felt she had to do this.
“So you do not trust me.”
“I never said that.”
“Then why—”
“I am an extra set of eyes,” she said in a rush. “What if you are called away for one reason or another? I can keep watch on them. We can work together.”
“I’m going to tell my driver to turn around.”
“No!” she said, raising a hand toward him desperately. “You cannot. If I return home, then what? I will be ruined for certain, for we could not keep it a secret any longer. Do you think your driver will keep my presence to himself? I hope he will, as he works for you and not my father.”
Anthony sighed heavily as he sat back in his seat. It seemed she had thought of everything. Her plan was foolish, unnecessary, and actually rather insulting, but he didn’t seem to have any choice but to follow along with it.
“I do not think this secret will be as easy to keep as you think it will be,” he warned. “I can assure you that everyone who is faithful to me will not speak of it, but we will have to stop for the night, and who knows who we will see at the inn. Reeves never sees anyone, either. You should be more concerned about Faith’s visit and what others might say to your parents. That, I have no control over.”
“You are right,” she said, her bottom lip coming between her teeth. “We will likely have to include Percy in our plan as well.”
He rolled his eyes. She was not understanding his point at all. But there was no way around it.
He was stuck with her.
* * *
Hope could practically feelthe tension radiating off the viscount from his seat across from her. He was also sitting precariously close to the window, with his head almost hanging out of it like a dog.
“Are you all right?” she asked, leaning over to peer up at his face. “I know I surprised you, but—”
“Fine,” he said curtly, his eyes still outside.
“Are you sure?” she said, inspecting him as best she could, moving so far forward that she nearly fell off the seat. “Because you don’t look fine. You look… rather green.”
“A bit queasy is all,” he said, his words short. “I’ll be better when we stop. Or if the road smooths out.”
“It should, in a few miles hopefully,” she said before a realization struck her. “That was why you were already off the roundabout when it broke. It made you feel sick.”
“It did.”
“Did you know it would, before you got on?”
“Yes.”
“Then why—”
“You wanted to ride it. You said you would do so regardless of whether I did as well. So I got on.”
“You should have told me.”
He finally turned to her with exasperation.
“Would that have stopped you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it’s a good thing we were there, or else the boy could have died.”
