Page 21 of The Rake I Wished For
Another silence fell.
She supposed he did see. If anyone knew how her mind worked, it was Harlow.
“It would be an advantage, to be the first lady to make his acquaintance, I’m sure.”
Oh, how she hated his tone. So dry and unfeeling. So…not like Harlow.
“All the same, I think it best that we leave London,” he said.
She couldn’t even bring herself to argue. So instead she nodded and hoped he could not see that tears were welling in her eyes faster than she could blink them away. “Perhaps you’re right.”
CHAPTERSIX
Mistake.
Mistake.
Mistake.
The word seemed to echo through the carriage with every clip-clop of the horse’s hooves as they headed ever farther away from London.
Harlow shifted in his seat, but there was nowhere to go. He and Jocelyn were trapped. And her chaperone was no use. The old maid had her head down and sat there knitting incessantly, creating what had to be the longest scarf known to man.
He saw Jocelyn casting the woman sidelong glances, and he knew—he just knew—she had countless jests stored away in that head of hers about the woman’s ceaseless knitting.
But when he tried to catch her eye, she evaded his gaze.
The normally cheerful, chatty, mischievous little imp he’d known for a lifetime, was replaced by a perfectly docile…perfectlyboringyoung lady.
Not that he was complaining.
He wasn’t.
The best thing for the both of them would be to get to her brother’s home with no further incidents.
He took a cue from Jocelyn and looked out his window as well. He soon found himself staring at…well, nothing. Field after field passed, with nary a sheep nor a pig to enliven the scenery.
Still, it was for the best that they were heading away from London. He might’ve had to cancel the meetings with investors he’d arranged, but it was worth it.
Jocelyn would be hard-pressed to find trouble in the country. And there’d be no charming young marquess for her to flirt with either.
A muscle in his jaw ticced.
So that had been her ultimate plan then, had it? Couldn’t say he was surprised. Of course he’d known she planned to marry this season, and it went without saying that Jocelyn would have weighed all of her options and come up with a strategy to snare her choice.
None of that surprised him.
They’d even spoken about her plan to find a husband this season on more than one occasion.
He shifted in his seat, keenly aware of the sound of her skirts rustling and the way the breeze coming through the window seemed to waft her scent straight into his nostrils.
Devilish woman with her blasted intoxicating scent.
He sighed, trying once more to distract himself with the sight of…trees.
Oh yes, this was wonderfully diverting.
He found his gaze drifting back to Jocelyn time and again.
