Page 8 of Willow (Out on a Limb #4)

In Which Our Unmarried Couple Hurriedly Depart the Coast for London

Harry settled himself into the carriage in the seat opposite Willow. The carriage was not new, that was certain, and the cushions could have used extra padding, but it was serviceable, the driver seemed to know his way, and it was—in Harry’s opinion—a gift from the gods.

Or goddesses, if one were inclined to endow Mrs Smithers with those attributes.

“We should make good time,” Willow said, grasping the handle nearest to her as the rutted roads made their presence known.

“I hope so,” answered Harry. “But not unless these roads get better.” He looked out the window, seeing little but wet hedgerows.

“At least we’re on our way. And in relative comfort, too.” She sighed. “Mrs Smithers has a good heart. I do, however, have to wonder why she had a town-coach at hand. She said it belongs to friends who had arrived a day or so ago, and that it had to go back to town anyway, so why not take us with it?”

“It seems plausible?”

“Yes, I suppose so.” Willow leaned back and shifted a little in an effort to get more comfortable. “I expect that you, with your talk of spies and such things, has set my mind on a slightly different course.”

He grinned. “You can’t imagine Mrs Smithers being an agent for a foreign power?”

“Lord, no,” she laughed back. “And one should never look a gift horse in the mouth. So I will simply remind myself to write to her when we arrive and thank her again. After all, she is going to look after the house, as well as helping us travel.”

“A very good-natured lady, I would say.”

Willow nodded. “Although slightly overpowering.”

“I can agree with that.”

Silence fell for a little while, broken only by the sound of the horses’ hooves, and the occasional thud and rattle as they hit potholes and puddles.

He closed his eyes for a few moments, leaning his head back and letting his thoughts flow through his mind as they willed. There was much to do when he reached London.

First and foremost, he had to pay a visit to a quiet house just on the outskirts of St. James Square. Discreetly tucked into a row of identical houses, few knew of the activities that took place behind its quite ordinary frontage, or the decisions made behind those unremarkable bow windows.

Inside, he would meet with several gentlemen, share a brandy, and sit around a table in front of the fire, just as one would expect of a party of friends.

Except that these men were more than just casual acquaintances, and they would expect more from Harry than the social niceties.

He sighed. He had everything he needed, all the information required, and a little more. He hoped it would be enough.

“You are quite sombre. Is anything troubling you?” Willow was watching him, her head tipped slightly to one side.

He managed a smile. “I apologise. I am dreadful company.”

She snorted. “Harry, you’ve been dreadful company for quite some time. Now that you’re recovered, however, I would hope for a little livelier conversation?”

“Very well.” He straightened a little in his seat. “How is your family, Miss Trease?”

She sighed. “You probably need to practice saying Mrs Chalmers, don’t you think?”

“Willow, you know that was a mere pretence. We cannot…”

“We have to.” Her voice was firm as she interrupted him. “The most important thing right now is to get you to your destination in London. Would you not agree?”

“Of course.” She had him there.

“And, since we’ve established our marital status on the coast, it would be sheer folly to try to un-establish it as soon as we start inland.”

“That argument is as full of holes as a fisherman’s net, Willow, and you know it.”

“Sometimes, the best pretences are established for the most important reasons.” She eyed him cautiously. “You’ve given me to understand that arriving at wherever it is we’re going in town is of the utmost importance, to the exclusion of everything else. Including a possible diversion from this journey to dispose of me back at Forest Grange.”

Harry gritted his teeth. “Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Oh good grief.” She threw up her hands. “The Lord spare me from absurdly thick-headed men.”

*~~*~~*

They made fairly good time for the first part of the journey, given the state of the roads. Waterlogged and sometimes partially blocked by fallen branches, they showed the results of the winter storms that had ripped through the forests.

Harry had decided to make their first stop at a small posting house, where they could stretch their legs, give the horses a rest, and perhaps have something to eat. It sounded quite sensible to Willow, so she looked out the window, busy with her own thoughts.

Prime amongst which was the matter of their supposed ‘marriage’.

It had been a most convenient charade, of course. She’d been able to take care of her husband, whereas if the truth had come to light? She’d have been shunned as a fallen woman.

How stupid people were.

Although she’d not spent time in London, or attended crowded balls and elegant soirées, she was wise enough to know that few of the aristocracy lived up to the rules they set for their daughters. And she was also wise enough to know that a titled gentleman would prefer his firstborn son—who would inherit his estate—be the fruit of his own loins, not someone else’s.

But given all that, it was still quite silly to assume that any young woman who spent time alone with a gentleman, especially overnight, was seriously compromised and in deep trouble. Would it have mattered in Little Witham? In all fairness, probably not very much, since small villages were mostly concerned with the day-to-day issues of simply living a comfortable life.

But people talk. And talk travelled faster than a storm sometimes. Willow would never want unpleasant rumours to reach her family. She didn’t give two farthings for the Ton, but she did worry that her impetuous declaration might get back to her family and worry them.

They knew Harry, of course. Did they like him? She glanced across the carriage to where he was also gazing from his window, lost in his own thoughts.

Yes, they liked him. Her Mama had always welcomed him with a smile, Ashe had called him friend since they were both very young, and he’d pretty much made Forest Grange his second home. So this entire matter of their pretend marriage might cause some concern, but they’d understand how vital it had been in order to save Harry’s life.

She crossed her fingers, just in case.

“You’re very quiet.”

His words jerked her from her thoughts. “Am I? I apologise.”

“No need. It surprised me, that’s all.”

Willow raised an eyebrow. “Really? Why?”

He chuckled. “In my experience, most young ladies find an endless flow of chatter to be most pleasing.”

She snorted. “You have been associating with the wrong young ladies, then. I know more than a few who enjoy a lively discussion, but also aren’t afraid of silence.”

“You’ll have to introduce me, then.” He grinned.

Willow didn’t. “I don’t think I’ll be able to do that,” she answered with a sigh. “We must settle our business first, before we think about re-entering our ordinary world.”

“It’s been a long time since I even thought about that world,” he mused. “To be honest? I do not miss much of it at all.”

“What has your world been like, then, Harry?”

He shook his head. “Challenging. Difficult a lot of the time, and yes, dangerous once or twice.” He crossed his legs and frowned as he tried to get more comfortable.

Willow pulled one of the cushions from the back of the carriage and put it next to her. “Here. Rest your foot and ankle. Just for a few moments.”

“Ahhh…” he sighed with relief as he followed her suggestion. “Thank you.”

“You were telling me of your world…” she reminded him.

“Was I?” He glanced at her with a smile. “Very different to yours, Willow, I can assure you.”

“But there were horses…?”

“Oh yes. There were almost always horses. The French have some lovely breeds, I must say. Were the times a little different, I might have bought one or two for my own stable. I’ll wager they’d breed some amazing racers.”

The carriage bumped, making him wince as his foot rose and fell.

“I would guess we might be at our first stop?” She leaned forward to peer from the window. “I see what looks like a few buildings ahead.”

“Good. I think I’m about ready to admit I’d like to sit in a chair that doesn’t move for a few minutes.”

“We’ll make sure that happens, don’t worry.”

“I won’t. I have every confidence that my wife will arrange everything to my liking.” A teasing smile settled around his lips as he spoke.

Willow’s heart gave a little ping, but she managed to return his smile with one of her own. Even though, at that moment, she understood that she might well have created a mess from which she would not escape unscathed.

The inn was small but clean and efficient, and their driver reassured Harry that he had his directions and could easily change horses when necessary.

Willow wondered at that, but when they set off again after their brief stop, he seemed to sense her curiosity.

“Mrs Smithers is an astounding woman,” he chuckled. “Not only does the driver know the way to town, but he has some sort of paperwork that gets us a fresh team if and when we need it.”

“Good heavens,” Willow remarked. “I wonder how she managed that?”

“I don’t know, and the driver didn’t, either.”

“You asked him?”

“Of course I asked him,” frowned Harry.

“Well, I wondered, that’s all. No need to snap at me.”

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to snap, as you put it. It’s just…” he sighed and shook his head as he stared out of the window.”

Saying anything at that point would be irrelevant, decided Willow, so she too watched the countryside pass by their carriage. Once or twice they passed similar vehicles travelling in the opposite direction, and a couple of riders, well-wrapped against the weather, galloped along the same road, often with a shout to their driver.

But overall, their journey was proving to be uneventful, quiet, and actually a bit boring.

Willow closed her eyes and tried not to wish Harry was beside her, holding her, saying nice things…