her, and with what potentially catastrophic results?
Nor would traveling separately do anything to advance his cause, which meant it made far more sense for him to accompany her on the stage.
On the other hand, could he stomach traveling at a snail’s pace in a poorly sprung coach operated by a second-rate stage company? The prospect held no appeal. Therefore the only remaining option was for both of them to travel by mail.
To be sure, Miss Jolliffe’s name was not on the waybill, but in Gabriel’s opinion that was not an insurmountable obstacle. He had never yet encountered an impediment that he could not remove by the lavish application of money, and since he never traveled without sufficient funds, the matter was as good as settled.
Smiling congenially and keeping his voice as pleasant as possible in order to keep his companion from becoming skeptical about his motives, while at the same time wishing he had not been quite so quick to lecture her about the dangers of accepting rides from total strangers, Gabriel informed her of his decision.
“Since you are, in a manner of speaking, presently under my protection, Miss Jolliffe, I fear I cannot in good conscience allow you to travel unescorted back to London. I shall therefore make it my responsibility to secure a place for you on the Mail, and to ensure against idle speculation about our relationship, which might be detrimental to your reputation, I have decided that it would be best to tell people that you are my sister.”
4
Verity could not h elp but notice the exact instant Mr. Sherington’s smile became spurious and his tone of voice patently false. Over the years her relatives had manipulated her on too many occasions for her suspicions not be instantly aroused.
She sneaked a glance at him now out of the corner of her eye, and there was no way she could pretend that his present behavior did not positively reek of duplicity.
Whereas up to this moment he had displayed a strong tendency to scowl at her for the slightest offense, real or imagined, and had, when he was not ignoring her completely, spoken to her quite frankly and even rudely, now he was obviously doing his best to turn her up sweet.
What was not so obvious was his true purpose. What could this man possibly want from her?
Although she could not begin to fathom his motives—other than to be sure that he was not merely playing the role of knight errant—she had to admit to herself that it did not matter; whatever he was trying to obtain from her she would give him gladly.
“I should not wish to be a bother,” she said, wondering if she were not perhaps letting her imagination run away with her. No doubt he was merely being polite, and would jump at the chance to continue on his way without the encumbrance of a stranger like herself.
“I doubt you will be any trouble,” he said. “On the contrary, I am quite certain having you to talk to will keep the trip from becoming tedious.”
He smiled at her in a most engaging manner, which only served to increase her suspicions rather than to dispel them.
There was, Verity soon learned, a vast difference between traveling alone on the stage and going by mail, especially when one had a forceful gentleman along to smooth the way. Without so much as raising his voice, Mr. Sherington somehow contrived to have their food brought to them first whenever they stopped at a posting house, and this despite the grumblings and complainings of the other passengers.
It was also a novel experience to travel through the night, rather than stopping when the sun set.
“You should try to sleep,” his voice came quietly out of the darkness beside her. “You will be more comfortable if you lean against my shoulder.”
Sleep? She hesitated, unable to believe that she would be able to sleep a wink if she were touching him.
“Come now, sister, do as you are bid,” he said. “We would not wish you to arrive at our mother’s house in an exhausted
Nor would traveling separately do anything to advance his cause, which meant it made far more sense for him to accompany her on the stage.
On the other hand, could he stomach traveling at a snail’s pace in a poorly sprung coach operated by a second-rate stage company? The prospect held no appeal. Therefore the only remaining option was for both of them to travel by mail.
To be sure, Miss Jolliffe’s name was not on the waybill, but in Gabriel’s opinion that was not an insurmountable obstacle. He had never yet encountered an impediment that he could not remove by the lavish application of money, and since he never traveled without sufficient funds, the matter was as good as settled.
Smiling congenially and keeping his voice as pleasant as possible in order to keep his companion from becoming skeptical about his motives, while at the same time wishing he had not been quite so quick to lecture her about the dangers of accepting rides from total strangers, Gabriel informed her of his decision.
“Since you are, in a manner of speaking, presently under my protection, Miss Jolliffe, I fear I cannot in good conscience allow you to travel unescorted back to London. I shall therefore make it my responsibility to secure a place for you on the Mail, and to ensure against idle speculation about our relationship, which might be detrimental to your reputation, I have decided that it would be best to tell people that you are my sister.”
4
Verity could not h elp but notice the exact instant Mr. Sherington’s smile became spurious and his tone of voice patently false. Over the years her relatives had manipulated her on too many occasions for her suspicions not be instantly aroused.
She sneaked a glance at him now out of the corner of her eye, and there was no way she could pretend that his present behavior did not positively reek of duplicity.
Whereas up to this moment he had displayed a strong tendency to scowl at her for the slightest offense, real or imagined, and had, when he was not ignoring her completely, spoken to her quite frankly and even rudely, now he was obviously doing his best to turn her up sweet.
What was not so obvious was his true purpose. What could this man possibly want from her?
Although she could not begin to fathom his motives—other than to be sure that he was not merely playing the role of knight errant—she had to admit to herself that it did not matter; whatever he was trying to obtain from her she would give him gladly.
“I should not wish to be a bother,” she said, wondering if she were not perhaps letting her imagination run away with her. No doubt he was merely being polite, and would jump at the chance to continue on his way without the encumbrance of a stranger like herself.
“I doubt you will be any trouble,” he said. “On the contrary, I am quite certain having you to talk to will keep the trip from becoming tedious.”
He smiled at her in a most engaging manner, which only served to increase her suspicions rather than to dispel them.
There was, Verity soon learned, a vast difference between traveling alone on the stage and going by mail, especially when one had a forceful gentleman along to smooth the way. Without so much as raising his voice, Mr. Sherington somehow contrived to have their food brought to them first whenever they stopped at a posting house, and this despite the grumblings and complainings of the other passengers.
It was also a novel experience to travel through the night, rather than stopping when the sun set.
“You should try to sleep,” his voice came quietly out of the darkness beside her. “You will be more comfortable if you lean against my shoulder.”
Sleep? She hesitated, unable to believe that she would be able to sleep a wink if she were touching him.
“Come now, sister, do as you are bid,” he said. “We would not wish you to arrive at our mother’s house in an exhausted
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