Page 38 of The Girl Out of Time
“If you’re worried about payment, why don’t you have the duke frank it? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”
“Frank it,” she repeated slowly.
“It makes it free to send?” His eyebrow lifted.
“Right! Yes, how could I have forgotten. I’ll do that, thank you.” Time to get off the topic of her limited postal knowledge. “And you! I didn’t know you were walking around already.” He hadn’t come to see her. She tried to swallow the bitter feeling of annoyance. He didn’t remember her, and he didn’t owe her anything.
“I am.” They walked out onto the main street, bustling in the early morning hour.
“How are you?”
“Well, thank you.” He turned to her. “And Idohave to thank you. You saved my life.” He glanced around. “And you kept my secret.”
“I would’ve done it for anyone.” Well, her brothers were maybe slightly lower on the list. “But then, you’re pretty good at deception, yourself.” She winked at him.
His eyes widened, and he swallowed.
“Your accent?” she clarified. “Not a trace of French.”
“Right.” He let out a relieved exhale that wasn’t quite a laugh. “I …”
An older woman, standing by a cart loaded with metal pints and canvas bags, waved at Theo.
“I have to go,” he said. “I came here with the other servants, since they had their own errands to run.”
“Oh. Okay.” She stood there, hands clasped in front.
“You’re not alone, are you?”
“Well, I …” She made a vague motion to the road. “I walked. Didn’t feel like ordering a carriage just for me.”
His look was not dissimilar to the postal office worker’s earlier.
God, she really didn’t know how to live in this time.
“Do you think I could come back with you?”
“If you so wish,” he drawled. “But it is a cart.”
“That’s fine.” She headed toward it; Theo caught up.
Severalmy lady-sand curtsies fell as she approached the cart. She remembered a face or two from her first day here, but how did all the servants know her?
A younger male servant hopped off the front bench.
“No, please, don’t give up your seating for me,” she said. “I’ll ride in the back.”
“But, my lady—”
“It’s fine.” She lifted the hem of her dress and sat on the back of the cart, legs dangling off. “See, works perfectly.”
After a bit more fussing from the servants, Theo sat next to her, and the cart lurched forward. Either some straw or a splinter stung her backside, and Emmeline wiggled, then ignored it when that didn’t help. It was a warm summer day without a cloud in the sky—not something she could say about much of her previous vacation here—and riding on the back of a cart, heading through the vibrant countryside, felt like a little adventure.
“Why didn’t you ride a horse?” Theo asked.
“I’m not very good at it.” Bicycles, she could do, but horses? Mother had wanted her to try—riding was such a fancy pastime, after all—but Emmeline could never quite get into it.
A yet another notch in Mother’s “Emmeline’s Disappointments” board.
