Netherby Halls

She ignored this and said stiffly, “That is very nice, but I am afraid it does not alter the circumstances. There is nothing really that either of you can do to help, and I am sure you were on your way … somewhere, and I do not wish to detain you. Thank you so much for your thoughtful concern, but I beg you not to bother about me any longer.”

One expressive dark brow rose as the marquis answered, “Ah, but, madam, you must allow us to be the judges of what we can or cannot do. You are perhaps too young to comprehend the dangers to a beautiful woman in your, er, predicament. You are unaccompanied and should not be left on the open road without even your driver to deter strangers from accosting you.”

“Quite true,” agreed Percy with a nod of his fair head.

Sassy wanted him to leave. She needed him to leave before she found herself throwing her arms around him. She was moved by something inside to do just that. A voice in her head whispered, Kiss him, kiss him now.

“You, my lord, and your friend here, have made me all too aware of that sorry fact. However, as you may have observed, there is little I can do about it.”

She could not help but note that the marquis’s lip quivered. Dash it, she thought, he was laughing at her. Of all the outrageous nerve. Her chin went up.

Percy was taken aback; it was apparent that he’d never thought of himself as anything but a gentleman. He stuttered an apology and reiterated that a gentleman could not abandon a lady alone on the open road, and that he and the marquis had no other intention in mind.

She smiled towards Percy, whom she found she rather liked, but her attention was diverted by the marquis, who said, “Ah, but there is something we can do about this sorry situation that the young lady would not object to, is there not, Percy?”

Percy frowned. “What do you mean, Justin?”

“Why, what else? We shall stand guard over Miss …” He looked at her to fill in the gap and repeated, “Miss …?”

“Winthrop!” Sassy snapped, irritated without true cause.

“Ah, yes, Miss Winthrop. We shall make certain she is not accosted in the absence of her driver.”

“Unless Miss Winthrop takes us up on our offer to convey her to her destination, which might be the better choice.” Percy looked skyward. “There is no telling, but it might rain.”

Sassy sighed and with a wry smile offered, “The thing is, I doubt that it would appear seemly for me to arrive at Netherby Halls with two gentlemen at my side.”

“You are bound for Netherby?” The marquis seemed surprised. “May I ask in what capacity, Miss Winthrop?”

“You may, though I don’t know why I should answer.”

“Why should you not?” returned the marquis.

“Faith! If you must know, as a tutor,” Sassy answered irritably. She was agitated by her reaction to the marquis and the fact that she was fighting an inner voice that wanted her, incredibly, to throw herself into his arms. Madness.

Once again, Jessie came to the rescue. She observed him riding beside another man in a wagon. Relief flooded through her, more than she thought possible, and she waved joyfully to him before turning around to announce that her guards were free to continue their journey.

* * *

The marquis and Percy lent a hand getting the coach upright, waited long enough to be certain the smithy would be able to get the wheel back in place, and took their leave.

“Odd,” Percy remarked, screwing up his mouth as he was wont to do when presented with a puzzle.

“Indeed—but I should like to hear exactly what you think is odd,” the marquis replied, his eyes bright with a smile.

“A beauty like that—in a decent enough coach—going off to Netherby Halls. The whole thing strikes me as odd.”

“I agree. Most curious. Rather late in the year for her to be starting a post at a seminary for young ladies as well,” mused the marquis.

“That is another thing,” Percy said thoughtfully. “Ain’t Netherby a charity school?”

“In a manner of speaking it is. It is maintained by subscriptions and caters to the gentry. However, these girls are orphans whose birthright might be aristocratic, but their pockets empty.”

“How come you know so much about it?” Percy asked, sitting up curiously.

“My aunt, you know her—the one with all the pugs running about. She is forever after me to look-see whether it’s worthy of my subscription.” The marquis offered a half-truth.

“You are a dog, Justin! I see what it is now. You have made up your mind to have this Winthrop chit. I saw it on your face when you first looked at her—it was as though … why, as though …?”