Page 44 of Memories Made At Midnight

He loomed over her, his face strained and eyes flashing.

Still half-asleep, she blinked at him groggily.

Lord, she felt positively horrid.

“I’m sorry, Cassius. I must’ve fallen asleep.”

“’Tis of no consequence.” He cast an urgent glance toward the locked door. “A man arrived fifteen minutes ago, asking about a young woman traveling with two dogs—a large boarhound and a small black mongrel.”

Teddy wasn’t a mongrel, though how many times had Uncle Cedric called him precisely that?

“Oh, my God.” She bolted upright, her heart stampeding behind her breastbone.

Cassius speared a worried glance toward the uncovered window. Night was upon them fully now. “Thank God no one saw you enter, and the dogs are still in the coach.”

“How c-could he have f-found us so fast?” She fumbled with her hair, most of which had come loose from her makeshift turban. Fingers thick and awkward, she wound her hair into a knot at the back of her head and retied the strip of lace.

“I don’t know.” Expression grim, he shook his head. “Since no one in the common room saw you enter, Layton and I hope he’ll think he’s on the wrong trail. My brother is distracting the fellow with drink and talk of soldiering. He hopes to get the chap drunk while we make our escape. He’ll catch up to us on the road later on.”

She slipped from the bed and pushed her feet into her slippers.

Cassius shoved her ugly hat and cloak at her. “I’ve already asked for a new team for the coach.”

Thatwouldn’t raise any suspicions. Leaving less than an hour after they’d arrived.

Beatrice donned both garments in a matter of seconds. However, her fingers shook so badly, she couldn’t tie the bonnet’s ribbons or secure the cloak’s clasp.

“Here.” Cassius gently pushed her quivering hands aside. “Let me do it for you.”

“Thank you,” she mumbled on a barely audible thread.

Terror, unlike anything she’d ever known, sent icy chills pulsating through her body, swiftly followed by a wave of heat.

Or were the flashes of cold and warmth because of her illness?

What did it matter?

Cassius finished securing her cloak, then ever-so-gently cupped her chin.

“I’ll keep you safe, Beatrice. You have my word.”

For her uncle to have sent a man after her this quickly didn’t bode well. Beatrice would never forgive herself if something happened to Cassius while he helped her. She should never have involved him, but how else could she have escaped Brighton?

She opened her mouth to respond, but he twirled her around and gave a little shove. “Go.”