Page 2 of Make My Wish Come True
When the man by the fireplace rose from his table, she was ready. As he made his way through the room, she saw he wore a scarlet army coat under the brown scarf slung around his neck. He paid his bill and headed for the door, which was where Gwen intercepted him.
“Please, sir, I must thank you,” she said, putting out a hand to stay him as he took a long cloak from a hook on the wall and swung it around his shoulders. “The landlady says you sent me the tea and soup, and I cannot tell you how much that kindness means to me.”
He gave a little half-smile. He was a handsome man, though tired and dirty. Up close she could see the dust in every fold of his coat, and the growth of a day’s beard on his jaw. Long dark hair fell across his forehead above warm brown eyes. “It was my pleasure, miss,” he said. “You seemed upset when I arrived.”
Gwen flushed. He must be the man who’d come in as she was sobbing into the landlady’s handkerchief. “A disappointment,” she acknowledged. “I’m over it now.”
His gaze turned piercing. “You’re going to Blackthorpe.”
Now she blinked and curled her hands in the folds of her pelisse. “Yes. But I arrived too late to catch the stage.”
He nodded. “That coach often leaves early. I’ve missed it a few times myself.”
“Oh?” She looked at him, then quickly away. “If only I’d known that,” she said, striving for lightness. “Not that it would have helped, but I wouldn’t have gone to pieces if I’d had warning it might happen.”
“To pieces!” He smiled quizzically. “Missing a coach and being marooned here overnight warrants some outrage and dismay. I hope your journey isn’t desperately urgent.”
She bit her lip. “I’m going to see my grandmother. A day’s delay is inconvenient, but…” She mustered another smile. “But you very graciously ameliorated that inconvenience. Thank you again, sir. I wish you safe travels.”
He bowed. “I wish you the same, ma’am.” He waited until she stepped back, then put on his hat, touched the brim briefly at her, and strode out the door.
Gwen retreated to her seat in the corner. It was more comfortable now that she wasn’t hungry, and she felt a warm glow inside from both the tea and the man’s kindness. He must have arrived in one of the traveling chariots she’d seen outside, since he hadn’t been on the coach with her. It was so unexpected that such a man would notice a poor governess sitting alone in the corner, let alone pay for her dinner. But Gran always believed in such people; ordinary heroes, she called them, doing a small kindness that was little to them but enormous to the recipient.
She sighed, clasping her arms around Reginald’s empty basket. Now she wasn’t hungry, but it would be a long day and night, waiting for the coach. She’d packed in such haste, she’d not had time to retrieve all her books from the Bradford schoolroom; she had her two favorite novels in her valise, but didn’t feel like re-reading either right now. She doubted there were any others to read here. Perhaps someone would discard a newspaper.
The door opened again, sending a swirl of cold air around her ankles. Gwen flinched, then started upright.
It was the kind gentleman—an officer, she realized, spotting the gold braid under his cloak as he stopped in front of her.
“I am also going in the direction of Blackthorpe,” he said abruptly. “I have room in my chariot. Would you like to come with me?”
Chapter 2
Adrian Fitzhugh could not believe he was doing this.
She’d been sobbing her heart out when he stepped into the inn, and that must have aroused some spark of protectiveness, or even pity, in him.
Or madness.
She was a complete stranger to him, despite naming the same village that was his own destination. Her clothes were respectable but plain, and he’d heard the hesitation in her voice as she inquired about a room. He’d also heard her refuse a meal, though with a thread of longing that snagged in his mind like a burr in his collar.
But buying a meal for a penniless young woman was one thing. Offering to take her home was another.
All right, she was a very attractive young woman. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t noticed that, as he’d covertly watched her from across the room. Large hazel eyes, shiny curls the color of honey. She’d chosen a quiet corner of the room as her own, a rather chilly spot near the door, rather than trying to press in near the fire as most people had done, and she’d looked so woebegone.
But his travel chaise was not large, he was desperately tired, and he had to reach Blackthorpe as soon as possible. Why on earth was he doing this?
She stared up at him with those wide hazel eyes, her pink lips parted in surprise. See, he chastised himself, even she thinks you’re mad. If she had any sense, she’d say no, of course she wasn’t going to get into a stranger’s carriage and let him carry her off…
“Oh, sir, that is… ex-exceedingly generous,” she stammered. “I couldn’t possibly…”
Nod and walk away, he told himself. “I am also flying home to see my grandfather,” he heard himself say instead. “He is ill, like your grandmother. I couldn’t abide being forced to delay an entire day.”
Slowly she closed her mouth. She studied him, then nodded once. “Yes, please.”
Adrian’s heart leapt even as he told himself he was ten kinds of fool. He stooped to collect her worn valise.
“Oh—Oh dear.” She was on her feet now, clutching a large basket, but hesitating anxiously. “I have a cat,” she blurted. “I can’t leave him…”
