Page 65 of The Mysterious Miss Lydia
“Maybe we’ve scared them off,” Lydia whispered. “If one of them saw us as we approached...”
Luke nodded, but it soon became apparent that only one of the cohorts had been scared off...that, or the actress was running late for their rendezvous. Because Wendell was there. On the far side of the clearing, but his fair hair caught the moonlight and made him stick out like a beacon.
“He’s not very good at this, is he?” Richard mused.
“Even I knew to cover my hair with a hood,” Lydia agreed.
“Yes, but he has no reason to believe anyone is waiting and watching,” Miss Farthington pointed out.
At Luke’s pointed look, Lydia shrugged. “I couldn’t exactly keep her in the dark.”
Miss Farthington looked ready to laugh. “Not after I caught you two in the dark.”
Richard’s brows rose as Luke flashed Lydia a wolfish grin that made her blush, which was apparent even in the dark of night.
“I feel like I’ve missed a part of this story,” Richard muttered.
“I’ll fill you in on everything,” Miss Farthington assured him. She shivered slightly. “Just as soon as this is over.”
“Here, allow me.” Richard was so quick to shed his coat to assist Miss Farthington, that the bushes around them shook with the movement.
They all stilled as one, but from his vantage point, Luke saw Wendell tense and look over.
“He knows someone’s over here,” Lydia said.
Luke’s jaw clenched. This whole thing was a mistake. He’d been too impatient to have this over and done with. He hadn’t used his head.
“He’s expecting the redhead,” Lydia murmured.
“I don’t think she’s coming,” Miss Farthington whispered.
Luke opened his mouth to chime in. He meant to tell them to abort the plan, to take what little evidence they had a bring it to Sir Cedric, but then—
“Lydia!” Miss Farthington hissed.
Luke nearly caught her, but his fingers skimmed her cape and then she was gone, slipping out from behind the brush and heading straight toward Wendell.
“What is she doing?” Miss Farthington breathed. She sounded as horrified as Luke felt.
Richard wrapped an arm around her shoulders, but it was Luke who spoke.
Luke who understood.
And much as his protective instincts despised it—some part of him was awed by her bravery. “She’s going to pretend to be her,” he said.
“What?” Miss Farthington’s tone was breathy and high. “But he’ll—”
“I won’t let anything happen to her,” he promised.
He tensed as he watched and waited. To come bursting out now would ruin whatever haphazard plan she’d concocted.
As Wendell moved toward her his expression was easier to read. “I thought you’d forgotten.”
She kept moving closer, her head down and her collar up so all Wendell would see was her red hair in the moonlight.
Luke’s heart hammered as Miss Farthington clutched his arm as if willing him to intercede. But to do so now was even riskier than what Lydia was doing.
“I don’t have all night,” Wendell said, his gaze was darting around, not on her at all. “Be a good girl and take this to my man at the tavern. You know the one.”
