Page 12 of Under the Champagne Moon
Besides, she was feeling low. Not only had she been unable to meet Mr. Farnham, but she’d learned more about the orphaned child abandoned on the clueless vicar. The foolish man had sent the child’s nursemaid packing, expecting various local women to care for the terrified babe. At least now he’d found a woman to live in and care for him.
But she was French.
As they approached the town, her thoughts turned to Gareth and the conversation of the previous day. She’d almost expected him to dog her steps today again, but there’d been no sign of him as they passed Sherington Manor, nor when they drove through Reabridge earlier. She must stop looking for him everywhere.
There was a reason she always chose to speak as little as possible. She’d told Gareth too much. She’d given him too many ways to taunt her.
There was also the temptation he roused in her. She’d come a hair’s breadth from flirting with him. Teasing him had only led to him turning the tables and asking questions about her family in France.
Bah. France—a place where demons sporting cockades lurked behind every bush. No one in France had cared for her mother or father or bothered to look for Fleur. To Hades with them.
And the same went for Gareth Ardleigh.
The look on his face when she’d teased him about offering his own hand? She’d mustered a smile because pride had demanded it.
“The captain,” Cora called over her shoulder. “He’s coming up behind us. Captain Ardleigh,” she shouted. “Good day to you.”
“Ladies.” He doffed his hat. “Where are you off to today?”
“We’ve just called on the Farnham’s,” Cora said. “Mama wanted to come, but she thought better of it and sent me along to make her apologies and to make the introductions. And now Fleur has promised to stop in the village so I may buy a new ribbon.”
“Has she, Miss Cora? I declare, I shall make myself a nuisance and accompany you.”
Fleur winced, refusing to look his way. She’d bet a quid he was grinning.
“But first we’ll call on the vicar, Mr. Owen,” Dulcinea said. “He was a regular correspondent of my late cousin. We have biscuits for him, if Miss Cora hasn’t eaten all of them. If you wish, Fleur, you may set me down at the parsonage while you run off shopping.”
Would it be bad of Fleur to stay at the vicarage and send Cora off shopping with the captain? Having put her daughter in the care of Fleur, Mrs. Bicton-Morledge would probably frown on the notion.
“May I join you on your mission?” Gareth asked. “I’ve seen Thom Owen at the Book and Bell, but I’ve not had a chance to call on his father.”
“Oh, I hope Thom is there,” Cora cried. “In any case, I must visit as well. The ribbon can wait. My mother will want a report on this baby the vicar has taken in.”
As they reached the vicarage,Gareth quickly dismounted, and Cora bounced down with her basket.
“Come help me down,” Dulcinea said, beckoning Gareth.
Fleur sighed and busied herself securing the lines. Dulcinea and Cora were already headed up the walk when she turned to climb down and felt Gareth’s hands on her waist lifting her as if she were a child instead of a woman of two and twenty.
Her breath left her in a whoosh, heat surging from her middle, up into her cheeks, and down into…
Shemustget hold of herself. “You may release me now,” she said to his black neckcloth. Raising her eyes, she saw he was frowning.
“May I? I suppose I ought to. In case anyone comes down the lane and sees us. Are you quite alright? There for a moment you seemed a bit breathless.”
A corner of his mouth was turning up.
A fresh wave of heat rose in her cheeks, and she silently cursed.
“How was your quest with Mr. Farnham today?”
Mustering some composure she said, “He wasn’t at home.”
“What a shame.” The smile tugged at the other corner of his mouth. “I suppose you’ll return another day?”
Suspicion dawned.He wouldn’t have…
Of course, he would have. This was Gareth.
