change his mind and leave her here at the inn after all.
As concessions went, his acquiescence to take her with him, at least part of the way, was not exactly a gracious one. But she had few choices open to her, and at least she would be safe traveling with Ranulf.
From everyone but Ranulf himself…
Darcy traveled in far more physical comfort today than she had yesterday. Yesterday, the second carriage had been piled high with luggage, restricting her movement as she necessarily kept herself hidden amongst those bags. She had not dared to make room for herself on one of the seats in case she was seen through the window.
Ranulf had insisted she would sit inside the landau today rather than up on the seat beside him. The inside of the carriage was plush and well padded, and with half the roof folded down in the clement weather—at her request—the space was also airy. There was only one of Ranulf’s trunks and her own bag inside the carriage with her. The “necessary luggage.”
Despite her comfort, Darcy would much rather have been sitting beside Ranulf.
She was totally aware of his brooding presence just feet away. Clean-shaven today, his handsome face appeared all sharp and disapproving angles, his hard body moving almost fluidly as he handled the four horses with ease. To all intents and purposes, he had forgotten her presence behind him in the carriage.
Or perhaps he was deliberately ignoring her.
Ranulf had made it clear that, despite agreeing to take her with him, he did not trust her. Understandably so, perhaps, when she had appeared so suddenly and he admitted to having been recently beset by events he did not believe to be accidents.
Who could be doing such things?
The attack. A fire. The burr under Ranulf’s saddle. Any one of which might have resulted in Ranulf being seriously injured or, worse, dead. And last night, someone had deliberately caused damage to the wheel of the town carriage.
Strangely, it was obviously not the carriage Ranulf traveled in. Nor had the damage been made to look like an accident.
Darcy realized this last incident did not follow the same pattern as the previous three.
She longed to discuss that with Ranulf, but a single glance at his austere and averted features was enough to deter her from breaking the silence between them. So instead she kept her own counsel, her thoughts wandering from one scenario to another, none of which seemed to quite suit the crime. All, however, involved the uncle she had come to hate.
“I see I should have added no fidgeting and sighing loudly to my list of things for you not to do when traveling with me.”
Darcy glanced guiltily at Ranulf as she realized he had slowed the carriage to a walking pace and was now looking back at her.
He arched one dark brow. “Do I need to stop at the next inn so you may use the necessary?”
“No.” Darcy’s guilty blush became an embarrassed one. “I do not need—I was merely thinking.”
“And thinking requires you to shuffle about on the seat and sigh loudly?”
She glared. “If that is what I was doing, then yes.”
Ranulf was amused by the glitter of anger in Darcy’s dark eyes. She was even more beautiful when slightly angry, with those sparkling brown eyes, flushed cheeks, and delectable lips a deeper pink and slightly parted. “Would you care to come and sit up here beside me?”
Her eyes lit up. “Oh yes, please.”
He brought the carriage to a complete stop before jumping down to assist Darcy from inside the carriage and up onto the high seat beside him. “Is this the part of the conversation where I am expected to enquire what it was you were thinking about so intensely?” He flicked the reins to tell the horses to move on again.
Darcy frowned. “Why do you always have to be so mocking?”
“Perhaps it comes naturally to me?”
She shook her head. “I swear you were not always like this. You have changed this past year, Ranulf.”
His humor fled, jaw clenching.
As concessions went, his acquiescence to take her with him, at least part of the way, was not exactly a gracious one. But she had few choices open to her, and at least she would be safe traveling with Ranulf.
From everyone but Ranulf himself…
Darcy traveled in far more physical comfort today than she had yesterday. Yesterday, the second carriage had been piled high with luggage, restricting her movement as she necessarily kept herself hidden amongst those bags. She had not dared to make room for herself on one of the seats in case she was seen through the window.
Ranulf had insisted she would sit inside the landau today rather than up on the seat beside him. The inside of the carriage was plush and well padded, and with half the roof folded down in the clement weather—at her request—the space was also airy. There was only one of Ranulf’s trunks and her own bag inside the carriage with her. The “necessary luggage.”
Despite her comfort, Darcy would much rather have been sitting beside Ranulf.
She was totally aware of his brooding presence just feet away. Clean-shaven today, his handsome face appeared all sharp and disapproving angles, his hard body moving almost fluidly as he handled the four horses with ease. To all intents and purposes, he had forgotten her presence behind him in the carriage.
Or perhaps he was deliberately ignoring her.
Ranulf had made it clear that, despite agreeing to take her with him, he did not trust her. Understandably so, perhaps, when she had appeared so suddenly and he admitted to having been recently beset by events he did not believe to be accidents.
Who could be doing such things?
The attack. A fire. The burr under Ranulf’s saddle. Any one of which might have resulted in Ranulf being seriously injured or, worse, dead. And last night, someone had deliberately caused damage to the wheel of the town carriage.
Strangely, it was obviously not the carriage Ranulf traveled in. Nor had the damage been made to look like an accident.
Darcy realized this last incident did not follow the same pattern as the previous three.
She longed to discuss that with Ranulf, but a single glance at his austere and averted features was enough to deter her from breaking the silence between them. So instead she kept her own counsel, her thoughts wandering from one scenario to another, none of which seemed to quite suit the crime. All, however, involved the uncle she had come to hate.
“I see I should have added no fidgeting and sighing loudly to my list of things for you not to do when traveling with me.”
Darcy glanced guiltily at Ranulf as she realized he had slowed the carriage to a walking pace and was now looking back at her.
He arched one dark brow. “Do I need to stop at the next inn so you may use the necessary?”
“No.” Darcy’s guilty blush became an embarrassed one. “I do not need—I was merely thinking.”
“And thinking requires you to shuffle about on the seat and sigh loudly?”
She glared. “If that is what I was doing, then yes.”
Ranulf was amused by the glitter of anger in Darcy’s dark eyes. She was even more beautiful when slightly angry, with those sparkling brown eyes, flushed cheeks, and delectable lips a deeper pink and slightly parted. “Would you care to come and sit up here beside me?”
Her eyes lit up. “Oh yes, please.”
He brought the carriage to a complete stop before jumping down to assist Darcy from inside the carriage and up onto the high seat beside him. “Is this the part of the conversation where I am expected to enquire what it was you were thinking about so intensely?” He flicked the reins to tell the horses to move on again.
Darcy frowned. “Why do you always have to be so mocking?”
“Perhaps it comes naturally to me?”
She shook her head. “I swear you were not always like this. You have changed this past year, Ranulf.”
His humor fled, jaw clenching.
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