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Constance tapped a finger against her chin. “You take the other servants and the luggage while Lady Featherton and I walk around the town. To-day is market day. There will be a great deal of traffic. Then, when we’re sure he’s not watching, she and I will slip away.”

Anderson pulled out the traveling trunk from the corner. “Maybe have the coach meet you at the other end of the town.”

“Excellent idea.” Constance tapped her cane on the floor. “I’ve been saving my horses, but both Featherton and Barham have cattle stationed along the Great North Road. We can keep going as long as need be.”

Her dresser narrowed her eyes in thought. “If you’re planning to move fast, you should keep a couple of the footmen with you, Your Grace.” Anderson’s lips twitched. “Just to make sure you can make it to the other end of town.”

Constance hurled a pillow at her maid, missing when the woman ducked. “I should send them with you,” she retorted. “You’re not that much younger than I. ”

“That may be true.” Anderson sniffed. “But I haven’t taken to using a cane to walk. I told you before you’d start relying on it.”

Drat the woman if she didn’t have a point.

Constance glanced at her elegant swan-headed cane.

She had started carrying it as a small conceit, but lately she’d been having to depend on it too much.

All this traveling probably didn’t help either.

Mayhap when all this was over, and Mary and Kit were safely wed, Constance would take the time to learn to walk without it again.

Bath would be a good place for that. The waters were vile for drinking, but bathing in them seemed to help people.

“If you want my advice,” Anderson said, “you’ll let me get you some plainer clothes and you could walk without your cane. You’ll want the footmen to be in street clothing as well. That way the blackguard might miss you if he’s still around.”

“Go in disguise?” Constance stared at her dresser. “What a brilliant idea. I’ll talk Lucinda into it as well.” An image of two old ladies in faded black came to her. “Get us some widow’s weeds. That ought to work.”

Just over an hour later, Constance and Lucinda were dressed as middling country ladies.

Their coachman had suggested blacking the gold crest marking the coaches, and Constance agreed.

Their lady’s maids left with the first carriage, and the baggage coach departed a half hour later.

The footmen were dressed in clothing bought from the landlord.

She twined her arm with one of the young men.

“I haven’t had a lark like this in years. ”

Constance headed off first out the back of the inn, down the alley behind it, and thence to a small road full of traffic going into the town.

Lucinda would meet her at the butcher’s shop.

From there they’d act like old friends meeting unexpectedly.

Even that would be a new experience. Neither of them had ever been in a butcher’s shop before.

Constance and her footman followed the directions the landlord had given them. “Do you see anyone pursuing us?”

“No, Your Grace. I had a look out the common room’s window before we left and saw the man, but I haven’t seen him since.”

“Let’s hope he’ll still be there waiting for a long time to come.” Before they reached the butcher’s, people were staring at them. “What do you think is wrong? I look like everyone else. ”

“Beg’n your pardon, Your Grace, but you don’t sound like them, and you walk different. Not like an old country woman.”

So much for her ruse. “Let’s find Lady Featherton and depart. I don’t want to leave a way for that man to find us.”

A few moments later, she saw a female who looked like Lucinda peering into a shop window. Her shoulders were hunched a bit, and when she spoke it was not with her usual clipped consonants. How had she known to do that when Constance had not?

As soon as they were close enough, Constance whispered, “We should depart immediately.”

Her friend raised a brow.

“I’m drawing attention.”

Lucinda linked arms with her. “Then let me do the talking. Round your shoulders a bit, and shuffle your feet some more.”

“Where did you learn to do that?”

“Oh”—her eyes twinkled with laughter—“my eldest sister and I used to escape from our governess and learned to blend in with the locals. It came in very handy on May Day when we attended the festival to look at the handsome local boys.”

An hour later, Constance and Lucinda settled into the soft velvet squabs of the coach. They were on their way north, and, as far as they could tell, no one was following.

“You’re sure they aren’t still at the inn?” Gawain’s groom had been across the street from the posting house since early morning. Gawain arrived a few hours later when the dowagers usually took a walk after breakfast. It was now mid-afternoon, and they were nowhere to be seen.

“As sure as I can be. I went in just like you told me and said I had an urgent message for the Dowager Lady Featherton.” Whitely held out the sealed missive he’d used.

“The landlord said they’d left before noon.

” He spat on the ground. “Couldn’t get more than that out of him.

So’s I went around to the stables and sure enough, the coaches was gone. ”

Bloody hell! Gawain ran a hand through his already unruly hair. “Let’s go. Even with several hours’ head start, at the pace they travel we won’t have a problem catching up with them.”

Close to dinner time, Gawain stopped at one of the larger inns. “Find out if they’ve been here,” he instructed Whitely. “I can’t believe we lost them somewhere along the road. I hope they didn’t turn off to visit someone.”

A few minutes later, his groom returned. “No one ain’t seen hide nor hair of them.”

Where in the bloody hell could two old ladies have got to?

“They had to have come through here. I’ll wager anything the servants have been paid not to tell.

” Gawain ran his hand over his face. What was he supposed to do now?

“We’re going to Edinburgh. Perhaps I can find something out at the bank.

We’ll travel until dark. They can’t be that far in front of us. ”

It was a damned good thing he hadn’t gone out gambling since before quarter day, and his father paid for his servants and living expenses.

All this traveling around wasn’t helping much, but it was strange, he seemed to have more money than usual.

Gawain grinned to himself. He’d have a lot more money after he married his cousin.

Every penny of it would be his, and she wouldn’t have any say at all how he spent it.

All he had to do was find her. Unfortunately, he’d just lost the dowager.

The one person who knew where she was, and he was running out of time.

As usual, Kit escorted Mary to dinner, bowing gracefully after tucking her chair in before taking his place at the head of the table.

Ever since he’d stared her out of countenance earlier, he’d been more attentive.

Reminding her why he was called Mr. Perfect.

Perfect to every lady except her, that was.

Well, she had said she’d give him a chance, and she would.

After dinner, instead of remaining with their port in the dining room, the gentlemen rose to accompany the ladies into the drawing room for tea. Once more, he joined her, remaining by her side. She found herself relaxing around him.

She stifled a yawn. “If we wish to make an early start, we should retire soon.”

He leaned his head close, as if making their conversation private. His breath touched her ear, and she fought not to sigh at the warmth. His voice was seductively low. “I agree. Have you ever visited Edinburgh?”

She fought the impulse to lean into him. “No, but I’ve heard it is lovely. ”

“If you wish, we may discover it together. I’ll bring my curricle, and we can take trips around the area.”

He should not do this to her. One minute he was praising her housekeeping skills and the next he acted as if he really intended to court her. “That sounds lovely.”

When they entered the drawing room, Mary glanced around.

This was another of her favorite rooms, and she would miss it.

An ache began in the area of her heart. He was always so considerate and easy to get along with, except he wouldn’t kiss her.

If only she knew she and Mr. Featherton were meant to be together, she need not feel as if she were leaving her home.

After about a half hour, she called for tea. One cup later, the married couples excused themselves and made their way to their chambers.

Kit walked with her up the stairs. They stopped outside of her parlor, and he kissed her knuckles. “I’ll see you in the morning, my lady.”

“Good-night, sir.”

She entered her room and heaved a frustrated huff.

If only he would have kissed her lips instead of her hand.

If her friends were right and he liked her, then it followed that he would kiss her on the mouth.

She would wager that her friends’ husbands had kissed them.

Maybe not Huntley, but that was different.

He and Caro had hardly known each other when they’d been forced to marry to protect her from a madman.

Their story had been too much like a romance novel for comfort.

Mary knew Kit was reserved, but why did he have to be so very proper?

On the other hand, he had complimented her on her person to-day.

She sighed. Falling in love was rather difficult.

A few moments later, Mathers helped Mary out of her gown and stays, combed her hair, then helped her don her nightgown.

Too excited about the trip to sleep, she went into her parlor.

A small stack of mail she’d not got around to earlier lay on her desk.

On top was a letter from her brother. She popped off the seal, read it, and laughed.

Typical of Barham not to have dated the thing.

Mary,