Page 54 of A Dare too Far

“Yes. Go-od.” She could not keep the shiver from her voice now. “Walk straight for quite some time, then turn right. Then straight and a tight left turn. Straight until you hit the hedge and turn ri-ight.”

“I’ll do my best,” Newburton said.

“Jo-olly good,” Jane said, trying to sound jolly herself.

“Ho there, Mr. Quillsby.” Edmund really did sound jolly. “Good to see you again, but I think you’re in the wrong place.”

“Damn.”

Jane gasped. She’d never heard any of the suitors curse before, and for some reason, it seemed against the barrister’s character.

“Mr. Quillsby,” she said, “what has happened?”

“I’ve made my way right out of the maze.”

“But-ut ho-ow?” she asked through chattering teeth.

“Jane!” George’s voice carried like crystal clear glass across the hedges.

“Ye-es?” she answered.

“Are you cold? Your voice shivers.”

“I’m wea-earing a pel-lisse.” But yes, she was very cold.

“Not what I asked. Come out now.”

“No. Mr. Quillsby is turned around and needs more instruction. And Mr. Newburton is almost here.”

“I’m afraid not, Lady Jane. I appear to be lost as well.”

“And me.” Mr. Dour’s voice was a disgruntled grumble.

“I’ll no-ot give up o-on any of you,” Jane assured them.

“Then I’m coming in,” George said. “You need your shawls if you continue to insist on playing this ridiculous game.”

“What are you doing, George?” Edmund asked.

Jane could barely hear her brother’s voice through the hedgerows.

“What does it look like?” George growled, obviously not caring to moderate his tone.

“Looks like you can’t look at all.” Edmund said.

“Give me instructions, Jane,” George called. “I’m at the East entrance.”

Whatwashe doing? He should go away and leave her be. But she was cold, and she did want her shawls. Who knew how long she’d be navigating the suitors to her side?

She steeled her jaw to stop its alarming shaking and hopefully stop George’s worry. “Just come through,” she yelled. “You’ve been visiting Whitwood since you were a boy. You know the way to the center.”

“Jane,” Edmund said, “he’s blindfolded.”

“What?” Ridiculous man.

“Just give me instructions.” George again, sounding highly irritated. “I’ve only been in this blasted maze a handful of times. I don’t relish being lost.”

“Give the shawls to Edmund. He’ll be here in a thrice and will be sensible enough not to bother with a blindfold.” She tried to keep the plea from her voice.