Page 55 of A Game of Scandal

When I woke, it was with a start. It took a moment for me to get my bearings, but when my surroundings rushed in, I remembered I was in Ash’s carriage – and that he had no idea of the fact. Gingerly, still aching, I turned to look out of the window.

Green. Far, far too green for us to still be in the city. The sun was fully up now – a beautiful golden day – and the countryside rolled out on either side of us like gentle waves of jade silk. I wondered how long I had slept, then raised my fingers to my head, hissing when I felt some sort of cut on my temple.

In some ways I had accidentally hit upon the perfect plan – after all, if I had no idea where I was, then how could anyone who was looking for me? Of course, the downside was that Edward Laing wasn’t going to be the only one wondering where I had disappeared to. There was going to be hell to pay explaining everything to Izzy, never mind my mother.

I considered banging on the roof to alert Ash to my presence, but what good could it do at the moment? I was exhausted. He would stop eventually, and then I would explain.

Ash’s carriage was pristine, brand new, with gold inlay in the doors, and plush seats, well padded and covered in a deep crimson velvet, comfortable enough to lull me back to sleep.

The next time I opened my eyes it was because the carriage had stopped and there was the sound of activity outside. Peeping out of the window, I saw Ash jump down from the box and hand the reins to a young boy. They exchanged some words, and Ash slipped him a coin.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the carriage door open and stepped down. I held my hand up to my eyes, shielding them from the sudden blaze of sunshine. My head was aching and I felt a bit foggy. I was standing in the bustling courtyard of what looked like a village inn: a long building with a thatched roof and a sign proclaiming it to be the Red Lion.

I turned back and both Ash and the young boy were watching me with matching looks of astonishment.

“Hello, Ash,” I said, pasting on a bright smile to try and cover the fact that I really wanted to throw myself into his arms and cry into his shoulder. It had been an awfully long day.

“Felicity?” He sounded stunned, as though he wasn’t sure I was really there at all.

That was when my own state of disarray truly struck me. I looked down at my skirts, thick with smears of mud and dirt. My hair was falling down around my shoulders; I dreaded to think about the state of my face. I raised my hand to my head, remembering the cut I had felt there. It was entirely possible that blood was mixed in with the dirt.

Ash followed my movement, and his expression turned from one of bewilderment to fury in the flicker of an eye. His face was pale as he strode towards me, reaching out to grip my arms.

“Who did this to you?” he asked, his voice kept steady under a vicious control that I could feel vibrating through his whole body as he held me.

“Technically, I suppose, I did it to myself,” I said, gently pulling away from him. He was pressing down on the bruises on my arms, and I really didn’t want to start crying here in the middle of the busy yard. I had a horrible feeling that once I began, I wouldn’t stop. “I threw myself out of a moving carriage.”

Ash clenched his hands at his sides, as though he wanted to reach for me again but was fighting the instinct.

“Of course you did,” he said after a moment, matching my deliberately light tone.

“Is this…” I trailed off, looking around us and finding the young boy who was still holding the horses watching with interest. “What are we doing here?”

“I stopped to change the horses. We need to have someone take a look at you, find you a fresh set of clothes. I’ll ask Patty to sort you out.” His voice still held that careful lightness, but I could tell it was an effort, could tell he was upset.

“Who is Patty?” I asked as he placed a hand at the base of my spine, guiding me towards the entrance of the Red Lion.

“Patty is the proprietress of this establishment,” Ash said, and then he turned. “We won’t be long, Sam. Make sure you rub them down properly.” He threw the words over his shoulder at the boy, who looked indignant.

“Yes, Ash,” the boy said in a tone that implied he was offended Ash felt the need to make such a demand.

The inn was clearly looked after with care; the smell of beeswax polish and the light yeasty scent of the beer mixed in a surprisingly pleasant welcome. The wooden surfaces were polished and smooth, the floor ruthlessly swept, and yet the scene was one of easy comfort – several patrons were sprawled in deep, well-worn-looking chairs, while two more perched at the bar, glasses of dark amber beer in front of them. As one, everyone turned to look at us, but no one betrayed any surprise at my appearance.

A woman who looked to be in her forties, small and sharp-faced, her dark hair pulled tightly back, emerged from behind the bar, rubbing her hands on her apron.

“Hello, Ash,” she said coolly, eyes running over me. “Been rescuing strays again?”

Before I could open my mouth and retort, Ash laughed again, and I thought no one would hear the forced note in it but me. It was odd, how clearly I saw him. “Not this time, Patty. This one is perfectly capable of rescuing herself. Felicity, this is Patty. Patty, Felicity.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” I said.

Amusement leaped into Patty’s eyes at my formal response, which must have been quite a contrast with my appearance.

“Felicity has run into some trouble,” Ash said. “Perhaps you can arrange a bath and a change of clothes for her?”

He raised his hand to my face, gently cupping my cheek. He tipped my head to the side, examining the cut on my head with an intensity that was at odds with the easy way he spoke.

“Patty is used to patching up brawlers; she’ll make sure you’re looked after,” he said to me, his voice soft.