Samantha (Barrett 2)

Sammy could feel a sense of adventure surge through her. "Why, it's just like a Gothic mystery!" she exclaimed.

"Complete with fog, clandestine activities, and a tangled plot. And, of course, a wondrous hero."

She dimpled. "Two heroes, in fact."

Boyd chuckled, touched by her exuberance as well as her compliment. "Does that mean you'll do as I ask?"

"It does."

"Good girl." Shifting his weight, he peered out the window. "It'll be just a few moments now. We're lucky. Most of the ton is still reveling in evening festivities, so there aren't many carriages on the road." He fell silent, the only sound that of their horses' hooves clomping down the street.

"Abingdon Street is just ahead," Boyd noted at last. "Are you ready?"

Sammy nodded.

"Excellent." He drew the curtains wider, allowing all curious eyes to see him escort Lady Samantha home.

A minute or two later the carriage slowed, crawling toward the Barrett Town house.

One carriage passed.

Then another.

"That was Lord and Lady Wilmington," Sammy murmured. "She is a voracious gossip."

Boyd beamed. "Wonderful."

Three more carriages passed.

"That should do it." Again Boyd leaned forward, looking intently out the window. The street was temporarily deserted. "Number fifteen ... there. All right now, Samantha, duck."

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Sammy curled forward and eased herself to the floor, crouching down and tucking her skirts around her.

The carriage came within a whisper of stopping. It paused for a long, drawn-out moment just outside Sammy's Town house door. Then it moved on.

Boyd said nothing, just stared straight ahead. They'd gone but fifty feet beyond the Barrett's home when the sound of horses' hooves reached their ears. Waiting for the precise instant, Boyd poked his head out the window and called loudly to his driver, "I've delivered Lady Samantha as promised. Now, we'll go to the Gresham Town house and await the earl. Then it's off to the gaming tables."

The carriage sprinted forward.

Joy sang in Sammy's heart. She was on her way to Rem. He'd made provisions for them to be together— painstaking, chivalrous provisions.

He was truly the most splendid of heroes.

Sammy rested her head on her knees and waited.

Her legs were just starting to cramp when the carriage came to a flourishing halt.

Boyd climbed down at once, knocking purposefully on Rem's front door. No answer. Just as they'd planned.

Striking a match, Boyd lit a cheroot and sauntered back to the street, smoking. Simultaneously, he assessed the vehicles on Rem's street. A few carriages. Enough people to spy him here, alone, but not so many as to cause him trouble.

Good.

Leaning against the carriage, Boyd blew gray rings into the foggy skies, calling just enough attention to himself to be remembered. "Cover your head with your wrap," he instructed Sammy quietly without turning around. "And when I open the door, get out. Quickly and without a word. Go to the front door and knock." He ground the cheroot beneath his heel, waiting while the final carriage passed. Abruptly, he yanked open the door. "Now."

Her wrap cloaking her, Sammy alit, blinking as she accustomed her eyes to the foggy night. Following Boyd's instructions, she sprinted to the door and knocked.