Page 17 of Road Trip With a Rogue
Daisy tried not to brood as she waited, leaning casually against the carriage. Her stomach had been grumbling for the last thirty minutes, and she was sure the two of them were tucking into a delicious cooked breakfast and a hot mug of coffee. She let out a gasp of delight when he returned and tossed a paper-wrapped package at her.
“Breakfast.”
She opened it with trembling hands, and almost groaned in happiness as the delicious aroma of freshly baked bread met her nose. There was an apple and a wedge of cheese too.
Perhaps he wasn’tcompletelydreadful.
She put the apple in her pocket for later, then bit into the roll with gusto, and he shook his head, amused by her lack of delicacy. She finished the rest in short order, trying not to feel self-conscious about the way his gaze rested on her mouth. She wiped her lips roughly with her sleeve, like a stable boy, in case anyone was watching, and he turned away.
“I’ve thought of a way we can avoid being seen together tonight,” she said as they climbed back into the coach. “We can stay at Wansford Hall, instead of at a public inn. Tess and Justin keep it staffed year-round because they’re always traveling back and forth from London.”
“Will they be there?”
“I don’t think so, but Tess would insist that we make use of it. She’d be insulted if we didn’t.”
“Hollyfield’s only a few miles past Wansford.”
Daisy wrinkled her nose. “True. But my father might be there, getting ready for one of his parties. And if he’s not, then there’s still a chance one of my brothers might have decided to rusticate. Can you imagine what they’d do if we turned up together?” Her lips quirked with dark humor at the thought. “They’d probably demand to avengemy ‘honor’ in a duel, you’d shoot them, and there’d be a hideous scandal.”
“You don’t think there’s a chance that they might shootme?”
“Sadly not. That’s not flattery, it’s just that you’ve already killed one man in a duel, so you have the advantage.AndI’ve seen them shoot. They’re all terrible.”
“Ah, but they’d have righteous fury on their side,” he said. “That goes a long way to helping a man pull the trigger.”
“Was that what motivatedyou?” she asked pertly. “Righteous fury?”
His expression darkened. “Something like that.”
He clearly wasn’t going to elaborate, so she let the subject drop. “So, Wansford Hall?”
He let out a resigned sigh. “Yes. I’d planned to stay at the Haycock at Wansford or the George at Stamford tonight anyway. I’ll tell Finch at the next change.”
The rest of the day passed surprisingly quickly. Now that Daisy didn’t need to ask after the runaways at every stop, they could travel much faster. She kept an eye out for Violet’s coach, but didn’t truly expect to see it.
It was good to have a definite plan, despite the fact that it included someone as objectionable as Vaughan. She refused to feel guilty for roping him in—he clearly preferred to travel fast himself, and he was heading in the same direction. It made sense that they should cooperate.
His ducal crest on the carriage door assured impeccably fast service whenever the horses were changed, and the hostlers all grinned and doffed their caps when Finch tossed them some extra coins for their work.
Vaughan clearly had a reputation for tipping well, which also meant he was given the best available horsesat every stop. Superior horses should give them an advantage over the runaways.
Daisy had traveled this particular route up the Old North Road countless times, both to her childhood home of Hollyfield and to the neighboring Wansford Hall after Tess had become the duchess.
Vaughan seemed disinclined to talk, so she looked out the window as they sped through Biggleswade and Alconbury. At noon they stopped at Stilton, and he emerged from the taproom of The Bell with a delicious chicken pie and a mug of hot chocolate for her, which put her very much in charity with him.
She was still surprised that he’d agreed to her scheme, but she wasn’t going to question it. It was nice that he wasn’t being completely obnoxious.
“Not far now,” she said happily as they crossed the River Nene.
He rolled his eyes. “I know that. I attended enough of your brothers’ parties to know the way.”
She tensed, biting her lip as she waited for him to mention the time she’d seen him kissing that blonde, but his eyes merely glittered with suppressed amusement.
“They were alwayssuch fun, those parties.”
“Have you ever been to Wansford before?”
“No. I know Thornton, of course, but I’ve only ever been to his London house.”