“For God’s sake, Margo,youasked me to go along with it!” Henry ran his hands through his hair, which had long since dried in the carriage. A clump of it stuck up endearingly on one side, and Margo felt oddly delighted by Henry’s dishevelment.
Which was ridiculous. She was always ridiculous.
“Fine,” she said. “We need a plan. Direct me. Consider me entirely under your command.”
A muscle in Henry’s jaw ticked. It was remarkable. Margo had heard of such things, but she wasn’t entirely certain she’d seen it in the flesh.
“Do you notwantme to be under your command? I didn’t say that to upset you—”
“No. No, damn it, don’t look at me like that, or I’ll call this whole thing off.”
Everything felt upside-down. Matilda had run off with Lord Ashford, and Henry was cursing and discomposed and acting entirely out of character. “Like what?”
“Like I’ve taken your champagne glass and dumped it in the grass.”
Margo felt her lips curl up. “Youdidtake my champagne glass and dump it in the grass.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose again. “Yes, well. You were nineteen and your cheeks were nearly the color of your hair. I was trying to save you from yourself.”
She laughed. “I can’t believe you remember.”
“I can’t believeyouremember. I wouldn’t have—”
He stopped abruptly. His cheeks colored, and Margo was reminded of how delightfully Henry blushed. “You wouldn’t have what?”
“Carried you,” he mumbled, addressing his waistcoat. “Had I thought you would remember.”
She hadn’t been nearly as tipsy as Henry had imagined—her face grew remarkably flushed with very little alcohol, a fact which she had not yet grown wise to at nineteen—only pleasantly dizzy and delighted when Henry had scooped her up after dinner at Number Twelve and hauled her from her spot in the garden to the door of her bedchamber. She’d curled her fingers in his hair and buried her face in his neck, and—
Well, Henry had never mentioned it, and so she’d rolled her eyes at her folly the next morning and attempted to put it out of her mind.
She felt very odd, at this particular moment, upon hearing that Henry had not forgotten after all.
She tried to straighten the seam of one of her leather gloves and then gave up and peeled them off. “In any case. Tell me what kind of plan you’d like for us to have.”
Henry loved plans, and at this mention of his hobbyhorse, he perked up. “As far as I see it, we have two choices. We can stop to search the major villages along the route or we can attempt to arrive at Gretna Green before Matilda and Ashford, so that we are waiting for them when they get there.”
Margo pursed her lips. “I suppose we cannot do both.”
“Not without the power of flight.”
God. She was not very good at arranging things. She plunged headlong into action, and then, like as not, had to spend twice as much time picking through the wreckage of her impetuous choices.
“Which option do you prefer?” she asked. “Does one stand a better chance of success?”
Henry drummed his fingers on his thigh. Margo was, unfortunately, helpless to avoid watching. His fingers barely made adent.Was the man cast from bronze? Surely he had not felt sofirmat twenty-two when he’d carried her up the stairs at Number Twelve.
She would have remembered that.
“Obviously finding them on the road would be preferable,” Henry said finally. Margo ordered her eyes to return to his face, which was very grave and Henry-ish. “But I think the risk is too great to take. If we miss them entirely, they could be in Scotland and have the thing done while we’re still searching Nottinghamshire.”
“So we proceed directly to Scotland?” She had to admit, it made sense.
“How do you feel about traveling night and day? If we stop in the morning and evening to change the horses—and prepare to spend a great deal of money on new cattle and coachmen—we can get there in a few days.”
“And then we just… wait for Matilda and Ashford to turn up?”
Henry’s eyes crinkled in the corners, and Margo felt on more familiar footing. “I know you don’t like to wait, but yes, I suppose that’s what we would have to do. Fortunately the two of you look enough alike that we need only parade you around Gretna Green and tell everyone that they’re not to witness the handfasting of your double.”
