condition.”
Verity hoped no one else had heard the laughter lurking behind his sober words. Fearing what he might say or do if she did not comply with his wishes, she leaned her head against his shoulder.
Immediately his arm came around her, and she started to jerk away—from surprise only, not because it was unpleasant in the slightest.
“Don’t fidget,” he ordered, “else I shall let you risk being cast to the floor when we hit an especially large bump.”
She did her best to relax, but being held in his arms was even more intensely exciting than she had envisioned, and sleep eluded her while the carriage raced through the night.
Someone was speaking in such a loud voice that Verity was awakened from a pleasant dream about her grandmother, only to discover she was no longer leaning against Mr. Sherington’s shoulder, but was actually sitting directly on his lap.
“I say sister or no sister, it is highly improper conduct,” the voice continued indignantly.
Horrified to find herself behaving in such a wanton manner, Verity wasted no time in resuming her proper place on the seat beside Mr. Sherington, but the woman who had spoken, a parson’s widow on her way back to London after visiting her daughter in Edinburgh, did not make any attempt to conceal her displeasure.
“Scandalous is what I call it. To behave so in public. What is the world coming to?”
Stung by the criticism, even though it was completely justified, Verity turned helplessly to Mr. Sherington, who opened one eye to peer at her. In response to her unspoken plea, he opened both eyes, and scowled at the woman sitting across from Verity.
With a last angry mutter, the woman averted her gaze from the two of them and stared pointedly out the window.
It took much longer for Verity’s heart to subside to a normal rate, and she resolved to stay awake for the rest of the journey.
Unfortunately, her mind kept returning to those few moments when she had been on Mr. Sherington’s lap. What must be his opinion of her now? That she should repay his kindness by ... by ...
Her face grew hot at the thought of what she had done. And even hotter when she realized how much she wanted to climb back onto his lap and wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him full on the mouth.
But then her heart plummeted when she looked out the window and realized it would not be long before they reached London, where Mr. Sherington’s self-appointed responsibility for her safety and well-being would end.
“I cannot believe you were so lost to propriety as to travel the length of England with a total stranger,” Petronella whispered to Verity. Then she smiled at Mr. Sherington, who was sitting across from them.
“He was most helpful,” Verity started to explain.
“You must get rid of him at once, before Ralph comes home,” her sister hissed in her ear. “More tea, Mr. Sherington,” she said in a louder voice. “At once, do you understand me?” she repeated in a whisper to Verity.
Not at once, Verity decided. No matter how her sister fussed—and she could only be grateful her sister had better manners than the rest of their family and so was able to conceal her displeasure—Verity was determined to postpone saying good-bye to Mr. Sherington for as long as possible.
So she ignored her sister’s repeated admonitions and offered their visitor more tea cakes. From the look in his eye, it was obvious to her that he knew precisely how welcome he was not, but he was even more adept at dissembling than was her sister.
There was a sound of footsteps in the hall, and Petronella rose with alacrity. “That is doubtless my husband,” she explained, then hurried out.
“Somehow I have the impression that your sister does not approve of me,” Mr. Sherington murmured, sending Verity another of his lethal smiles.
“Why do you say that?” Verity asked, smiling back at him as calmly as if her heart were not racing madly in her breast.
“Perhaps it is the daggers
Verity hoped no one else had heard the laughter lurking behind his sober words. Fearing what he might say or do if she did not comply with his wishes, she leaned her head against his shoulder.
Immediately his arm came around her, and she started to jerk away—from surprise only, not because it was unpleasant in the slightest.
“Don’t fidget,” he ordered, “else I shall let you risk being cast to the floor when we hit an especially large bump.”
She did her best to relax, but being held in his arms was even more intensely exciting than she had envisioned, and sleep eluded her while the carriage raced through the night.
Someone was speaking in such a loud voice that Verity was awakened from a pleasant dream about her grandmother, only to discover she was no longer leaning against Mr. Sherington’s shoulder, but was actually sitting directly on his lap.
“I say sister or no sister, it is highly improper conduct,” the voice continued indignantly.
Horrified to find herself behaving in such a wanton manner, Verity wasted no time in resuming her proper place on the seat beside Mr. Sherington, but the woman who had spoken, a parson’s widow on her way back to London after visiting her daughter in Edinburgh, did not make any attempt to conceal her displeasure.
“Scandalous is what I call it. To behave so in public. What is the world coming to?”
Stung by the criticism, even though it was completely justified, Verity turned helplessly to Mr. Sherington, who opened one eye to peer at her. In response to her unspoken plea, he opened both eyes, and scowled at the woman sitting across from Verity.
With a last angry mutter, the woman averted her gaze from the two of them and stared pointedly out the window.
It took much longer for Verity’s heart to subside to a normal rate, and she resolved to stay awake for the rest of the journey.
Unfortunately, her mind kept returning to those few moments when she had been on Mr. Sherington’s lap. What must be his opinion of her now? That she should repay his kindness by ... by ...
Her face grew hot at the thought of what she had done. And even hotter when she realized how much she wanted to climb back onto his lap and wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him full on the mouth.
But then her heart plummeted when she looked out the window and realized it would not be long before they reached London, where Mr. Sherington’s self-appointed responsibility for her safety and well-being would end.
“I cannot believe you were so lost to propriety as to travel the length of England with a total stranger,” Petronella whispered to Verity. Then she smiled at Mr. Sherington, who was sitting across from them.
“He was most helpful,” Verity started to explain.
“You must get rid of him at once, before Ralph comes home,” her sister hissed in her ear. “More tea, Mr. Sherington,” she said in a louder voice. “At once, do you understand me?” she repeated in a whisper to Verity.
Not at once, Verity decided. No matter how her sister fussed—and she could only be grateful her sister had better manners than the rest of their family and so was able to conceal her displeasure—Verity was determined to postpone saying good-bye to Mr. Sherington for as long as possible.
So she ignored her sister’s repeated admonitions and offered their visitor more tea cakes. From the look in his eye, it was obvious to her that he knew precisely how welcome he was not, but he was even more adept at dissembling than was her sister.
There was a sound of footsteps in the hall, and Petronella rose with alacrity. “That is doubtless my husband,” she explained, then hurried out.
“Somehow I have the impression that your sister does not approve of me,” Mr. Sherington murmured, sending Verity another of his lethal smiles.
“Why do you say that?” Verity asked, smiling back at him as calmly as if her heart were not racing madly in her breast.
“Perhaps it is the daggers
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