Page 30 of A Meddlesome Match (The Vaughns #3)

Blanching, Mother pasted on an apologetic smile. “I wanted to keep her here until you arrived. That is all. What good is this opportunity if you are not around to enjoy it?”

“Mother.”

Walter’s tone held the same command he gave his pupils when they were equivocating, and it had the same effect on her.

Drawing in a deep breath, she winced. “I distracted her and had the maid cut a few bits of the harness so Miss Vaughn would be unable to drive until you returned home to repair them, but Fanny didn’t choose the proper ones because Miss Vaughn drove off before I could stop her.”

Walter’s eyes squeezed shut as he rubbed his forehead. “And with the roads in poor condition, she may well be stuck somewhere without a functioning rig.”

“But don’t you see? This is your opportunity,”

said Mother, the strain in her expression easing despite the disbelieving stare her son leveled on her. “You can rescue her. There is nothing more romantic than being saved by a dashing gentleman—”

“A broken harness could be a danger to her and anyone else on the road.”

The lady’s brows rose, her complexion growing ashen. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“And even if nothing is amiss, I do not need to resort to trickery—”

“But I saw her at Mrs. Queensbury’s yesterday!”

blurted Mother before her hands flew up to cover her mouth, her eyes both begging him to press the issue and fearful that he would.

Walter simply waited.

With a sigh, she dropped her hands as her brows knitted together. “Mr. Gibson was there. I spied him arriving before Miss Vaughn, and though I couldn’t see most of what happened, they met in the courtyard and were there for a time. The whole thing seemed quite intimate.”

Walter’s throat tightened, but he forced himself to say, “They are friends, after all.”

“But I heard he proposed. Or is planning to.”

Reaching forward, she took her son’s hand in hers, though his own felt like a block of ice. “I fear your time is running out, and if you do not act—and soon—she will be lost to you.”

A cold, hollow feeling settled in his chest, spreading outward like a crack splintering through glass as his mind seized on the thought of Miss Vaughn, promised to another. Marrying another.

Too late. The words rang in his head, disjointed and unbearable, like the tolling of a distant bell marking the inevitable end. A future without her loomed before him, stark and colorless, and the sheer weight of it threatened to crush him. He wanted to reject the thought outright, to grasp at some hope, some way to undo what had already been set in motion.

Walter couldn’t breathe as the walls of the entry pressed in on him.

“But you can still win the day,”

prodded Mother. “This is perfect. If nothing is amiss with the gig, then you can simply keep her company. But if you find her stuck somewhere, you can ride in like a gallant knight and rescue her. Perhaps even sweep her into your arms and carry her to safety.”

The last was said with such glee that the lady looked ready to swoon at the very thought.

“Is that truly so appealing?”

asked Walter with a frown.

“Very much so,”

she said with a wistful smile. “Your father once carried me over a puddle to save my dress, and I swear that was when he won my heart forever.”

Though that seemed entirely odd to Walter, he hadn’t the time (or wits) to consider the oddities of women. Snatching up his things once more, he strode to the door as Mother called out the direction in which Miss Vaughn had traveled.

***

Having two older brothers, Sadie had acquired a vocabulary uncommon amongst ladies. Of course, she didn’t deign to use such words in company (even Gregory and Edward rarely did, as it was guaranteed to earn them severe punishments if caught), but there were times when the delicate exclamations of the world could not properly encapsulate the frustrations bubbling within.

“Egads!”

and “Confound it!”

simply did not have the same power as “Devil take it!” or “Hang it all!” And as Sadie sat on the low stone wall lining the road, staring at the gig that was firmly stuck in the mud, she couldn’t help but wish the whole day to perdition. Her fingers drummed against the stone, each tap sharper than the last as she forced her breathing to steady, the air coming through her nose in sharp but measured lungfuls.

A little jaunt around Danthorpe ought to have been rejuvenating—the perfect manner in which to shake off the frustrations of the past few weeks. Instead, she found the harness broken and useless, the gig stuck fast, and no way to rectify either problem.

Glory stood beside her mistress, availing herself of the grass growing on the other side of the wall, her great head dipping down as she munched away on an afternoon treat. At least someone was enjoying the respite.

Rubbing at her forehead, Sadie grimaced and glanced at her hand, only to notice then that smears of mud clung to her fingers. And now to her face. Brilliant.

With a huff, she hopped from the wall and nudged Glory away from her feast with a tug of the bridle. There was no helping it. Never mind the heaviness in her limbs or the dull ache in her head, she would simply have to abandon the gig. Gregory could fetch it later. Her shoulders sagged, the fight draining from her muscles like air from a punctured bellows—

“Miss Vaughn?”

called a voice as though it had been plucked from the heavens. Turning toward the sound, she spied Mr. Reed hurrying down the lane, his hand raised in greeting.

“Faith! You are a sight for sore eyes,”

she said as he approached. “Just when I was thinking that Fate was set against me, you appear like an angel from heaven!”

Mr. Reed slid to a halt before her, his cheeks red from the exertion. “Yes…quite…”

“Something snapped in my harness,”

she said, motioning toward the gig. “I kept it from overturning, but the wheels were stuck fast before I knew what I was about.”

But Mr. Reed looked at her rather than the vehicle, studying her as though able to see through the layers of cotton and examine the damage hidden beneath. Sadie’s pulse quickened and her muscles tensed at the reminder of that terrifying moment when Glory had fought the straps, nearly toppling them all. Her family had treated far too many such accidents before, and they rarely fared well.

“I am uninjured,”

she said. “It was frightening, but no damage was done.”

“Thank the heavens,”

he said, his shoulders sagging as he finally turned his attention to the vehicle. “I can enlist a few men to pull it free, though it will take time. You are shivering.”

Sadie hadn’t noticed the faint tremors taking hold of her, and she couldn’t say whether it was the aftermath of the accident or because her toes felt like muddy icicles, but once Mr. Reed drew her attention to the problem, the shaking grew untenable. In a smooth movement, he shrugged off his coat and slung it around her shoulders, bringing with it the warmth of his body and the faint scent of spice from his cologne.

“My thanks, Mr. Reed,”

she said as she slid her arms into the sleeves and pulled it tight.

But the gentleman ignored that and took Glory by the reins. “We ought not to leave her standing here…”

He considered Sadie and the horse. “I know she doesn’t have a saddle, but perhaps…”

She held up her hands with a halting laugh that helped to chase away the last of the cold. “I assure you, Mr. Reed, riding sidesaddle isn’t just about propriety. It would be impossible for me to get astride her with all these layers of petticoats in the way.”

Which was the most delicate way to disabuse Mr. Reed of that notion. If the gentleman was unaware of the structural impossibility of sitting astride in ladies’ undergarments, then she wasn’t going to be the one to educate him on the subject; though surrounded by layers of fabric, there was little to protect those most delicate of bits, and sitting her bare backside on a horse (saddle or not) was something she never wished to experience.

“I considered sitting sideways, but without a proper saddle, I doubt I can manage more than a few paces before being dumped onto the ground,”

she added. “I thank you for the consideration, but I am accustomed to walking.”

Mr. Reed nodded and glanced both ways down the road before turning his eyes to hers with a silent question in the raise of his brows.

“I think we are closer to Thornsby, so I would prefer to return home,”

she said with a sigh. Then, straightening, she considered her companion. “But there is no reason you need to follow me all the way there, just to walk back.”

“It would be my honor,”

he said, offering his arm.

Hesitating, Sadie glanced at her mud-stained hands. Mr. Reed’s shirt and trousers already showed similar signs, so she supposed it wouldn’t do much harm, though she didn’t care to make more work for his maid. However, when the gentleman noticed the concern, he simply nodded for her to take it.

“Thank you,”

she whispered, slipping her arm through his.