Page 17 of A Lady's Heart Deceived
Piers scrubbed his hand over his face, desperately hoping he was still asleep and that this was all some sort of horrid dream.
Miss Radley huffed. “The post coach for Coventry leaves the Swan with Two Necks at quarter to the hour of eight o’clock. Lad Lane is a good two miles from here, so we need to leave within the next few minutes if we are to make it.”
Piers bit down on his bottom lip and was disappointed to discover it actually hurt. He wasn’t asleep. And this wasn’t a dream. Miss Radley was really standing in his mother’s sitting room, packed and ready to travel north.
His plans had never included her.
He stared at Maggie in disbelief. Her jaw was set hard, her eyes clear and determined. This was a woman whose mind was already made up.
Blast. She is serious about this. Think, man. What are you going to do?
“I didn’t expect you to be coming with me. I sent you the letter informing you that I was going to Coventry purely as a courtesy. When you sent me your best wishes for the journey, I didn’t think you meant … well, to be honest, I … You have caught me by surprise.”
She didn’t say anything about wanting to come with me. Did she?
His brain and mouth were completely out of sync with one another—neither able to function competently. When she licked her bottom lip in obvious contemplation, his manhood decided to take the lead. It knew what it wanted.
Her.
Settle down, boy. This woman is not for you.
The sudden bout of lust sealed the deal. There was not a chance in hell of him spending time with her. Not without at least a dozen chaperones.
“I have cleared the matter of me travelling to Coventry with my parents. They understand that we will be travelling in public coaches and staying at respectable inns and hotels. You are also engaged to be married, which I must say had a major bearing on their decision. So, there is nothing for anyone to worry about.”
She bent and picked up the travel bag. “Shall I wait for you downstairs? I could hail a hack.” A soft chuckle escaped her lips. “Not that I have ever had to do that before. I assume it involves marching into the middle of the street and waving one’s arms frantically about until a carriage stops. That’s how my brother, James, says he goes about it.”
Piers shook his head, forcing himself fully awake. He reached for the bag, but Maggie pulled it away. A tight smile sat firmly on her face.
Bloody hell, stubborn woman.
He made a second unsuccessful grab for the bag, then let out a tired sigh. “I am sorry, but it is out of the question for you and me to undertake this mission together, Miss Radley. I’m surprised that your parents permitted it.”
How am I going to get out of this?
The mention of public coaches clicked back into his mind. “If you haven’t ever travelled in a hack, then I assume you’ve also not had the pleasure of a cramped, malodorous mail coach. I must tell you that one should only travel in them if there is no other option. The last time I took the coach to our family estate in Northamptonshire, I was sat next to a gentleman with elbows so sharp you could have given yourself a close shave with them.”
The smile disappeared from her face, and she fixed him with a hard stare. “So, your answer is, no?”
“Yes. I mean, yes, my answer is no.”
She marched purposefully toward the door, and he stepped aside. “Thank you, Captain Denford. I won’t waste any more of your valuable time. Good day to you, sir.”
The sitting room door was closed firmly behind her.
“Thank God,” he sighed. He had expected her to give him a bigger fight over the matter. Clearly, the prospect of having to sit in a horrid, smelly public coach had done the trick. With her privileged background, Miss Margaret Radley had likely never had to experience the sort of discomforts that the working class endured when travelling. Her family would have an elegantly appointed travel coach with heated bricks to keep their feet warm, fine woolen blankets, and plenty of room.
She wasn’t to know that he had absolutely no intention of sitting in the mail coach either. His plans for the day included a hearty breakfast and a final check of his papers, after which Piers would be departing London in the private Denford travel conveyance.
By the time Miss Radley made it back to Fulham Palace, he would be well on his way to the town of Luton, Bedfordshire, and tonight’s destination. The two-hundred-year-old Cock Inn, a placed famed for its roast beef.
Piers’s mouth salivated at the thought of the delicious onion gravy that always came with supper. His stomach growled its agreement. Tonight, his belly would be full of roast beef, gravy, and freshly baked buttered bread. And, if he was lucky, a generous slice of Yorkshire pudding. All of it washed down with a tankard of ale.
The Bishop of London’s luscious daughter would unfortunately not be joining him.
“What a pity.”
Chapter Eleven
