Madcap Miss

~ Four ~

“SCOTT, ARE YOU sure this is the correct road?” Felicia peered through the dark of night, squinted, and made up her mind that it was not at all the right road. She didn’t know why she had listened to him. They should have backtracked to the fingerpost and made certain of their direction.

Her friend sighed unhappily and kept his horse in a forward jog. He apparently did not plan on answering her.

Felicia’s eyes narrowed. They had taken the wrong road. She was sure of it. She could see that Scott was worried. He couldn’t fool her; she knew him too well. He probably thought it was the honorable thing to keep the fact that they were lost to himself.

Well, she didn’t give a rap for honor and intangibles. What she needed was an answer. “Scott, tell me do, are we lost? It is easy enough to turn back now and—”

“It is already past seven, you know. Wish we had managed to get off sooner,” he replied, sounding grumpy. “Not turning back. No time for that.”

She snorted. “No time to turn back, but time enough to wander around on the king’s roads without having a not

ion where we are?” She wagged a finger. “We must backtrack to the fingerpost. ’Tis the only logical thing to do.”

“We are not backtracking!” Scott responded. He eyed her as he came up close and added, “Deuce take it, girl. I have already told you that I am sure about the road and I did read the fingerpost. No point losing more time going back to read it again.”

She sighed. He had an obstinate streak, and usually it was about directions. He had no sense of direction. This was her fault because she knew it and should have studied the fingerpost herself. She sighed and said despondently, “This is slow going in the dark.”

“Aye. What we want now is the Northport Inn, and if we don’t concentrate and pick up our pace, we won’t get there for another hour or so!”

She sniffed and stopped her unruly tongue from making its way out of her mouth. Childish, she told herself. Indeed, she was a grown woman now, and although he deserved that she stick her tongue out at him, she refrained. Instead, she arched a regal look at him and then relented. After all, he was doing all this just for her. She said, “Yes, well, I can’t see a thing, Scott, so I don’t know how we can pick up the pace. I don’t want Whiley here to land in a hole, you know.”

“Hen-witted and chicken-hearted,” Scott pronounced and laughed. “Any ninny can see that the road is as smooth as silk.”

Her resolve to treat him with respect was lost somewhere in the word ‘ninny’. She said on a warning note, “Chicken-hearted? You big oaf. You are much like all your kind.”

He chuckled. “My kind being men?”

“Indeed,” she said, the humor returning to her voice.

“Well, I don’t know how you would know anything about ‘my kind’. You don’t know very many men besides me.”

“Oh, is that so? Well, you are very wrong indeed. My friends and I were acquainted with any number of so-called men when we were up at school. I have a superior knowledge of your kind,” she said and laughed at his expression. “And here at home, Scott, well, my latest flirt has been Daniel Waters, who you often refer to as a top sawyer!”

Scott seemed struck dumb with this information. He opened his mouth but was apparently unable to speak. Finally he exclaimed, “Danny? But … are you telling me … you have a tendre for Danny?”

She laughed. “No, I am telling you that I know enough young men to form a judgment about your gender. And Danny had a tendre for me.”

“Never say so!” Scott seemed astonished. “Damn his soul. I warned Danny to stay away from you. He is the biggest rogue ever when it comes to the ladies. Told him he had no business near you. Why, I should head back and land him a facer. Tell you what—when we are done in London, mean to do just that.”

She giggled, for he seemed stuck on this point. “Well, he says that you are rather accomplished with the ladies,” she teased with a smirk of sorts.

“He said that?” Scott appeared to be torn between being annoyed and flattered. “Well, that is neither here nor there, for I don’t go around breaking their hearts. He does.”

She said, “Well, he is a rogue, for after he kissed me, he did try to become even more … familiar with me, and I had to slap him to get him to stop.”

Scott appeared at this juncture to suffer severe palpitations and finally uttered with disbelief, “He tried to force himself on you? I shall pound him into the earth and then pick him up and do it again.”

She laughed. “Oh, stop, Scott. ’Twas the veriest nothing, and I told you, I gave him a good hard slap. His cheek was absolutely red.”

“I can’t believe he would … would …”

“Why, Scott, don’t you think me pretty?” she teased.

“What has that to say to anything? I told him to treat you as though you were my sister. I shall wring his neck!”

“After or before you pound him into the earth?” she said and giggled.