Page 66 of Memories Made At Midnight

Twenty-one

The primary route from

Carlisle to Cumberland

SIX HOURS LATER

The horse’s rocking plod came to a stop, rousing Beatrice from a fitful doze. Too afraid to sleep, lest she tumble from the gelding, she hovered on the brink of slumber with her cheek pressed against Cassius’s broad back the past few hours as the horse picked its way over the uneven terrain.

Despite the troubling circumstances, she had to admit she rather enjoyed snuggling up to Cassius’s back. As it was unlikely she’d ever embrace such a fine specimen of masculinity again, she kicked aside any guilt for indulging.

How different things might have been if he hadn’t buried his heart in his work, and she hadn’t determined long ago to remain a spinster.

Ah, well…

Blinking sleepily, Beatrice lifted her head and peered around.

A road. A proper road.

And a well-traveled one at that.

Thank God, they’d made it to the principal route to Cumberland. That meant Cassius’s familial home lay less than twenty miles away. By nightfall, she would be clean, sated from a good meal, and resting in a comfortable bed, and her fears of Uncle Cedric’s men overtaking them gradually fading away.

Ifthe rest of the trip was as uneventful as the past few hours.

Now that they must travel on a road, there was a greater risk of discovery if Uncle Cedric persisted in trying to apprehend her.

Intuition told her he would not give up, but she was no closer to understanding why her uncle was so bent on seeing her married than she had been when this fiasco started in Brighton.

Teddy whined and fidgeted in the sling behind her.

Beatrice coughed into her shoulder, but her chest didn’t hurt anymore.

No doubt, the dog, like her, could use a few minutes of privacy. If the Good Lord showed her any favor, she would never again for as long as she drew breath, have to hide behind a bush to see to her personal needs.

Instead of riding straight onto the road, ever vigilant, Cassius lingered in the shadow of the trees. With his forefinger raised in warning to keep silent, he scanned the area.

Sitting up tall on the horse, Beatrice craned her neck to see past his shoulders and peered up and down the dusty track.

Nothing disturbed the summer afternoon’s calmness.

“Is it safe?” she murmured in Cassius’s ear, still fearful of being overheard.

Her voice came out a throaty scratch, as much from being silent for hours as recovering from her cold.

He gave a slow nod. “I think so.”

How she longed to have the right to soothe the lines of fatigue from his dear face.

“Before we continue, do you need a few minutes alone?” he asked.

A discreet way of inquiring if Beatrice needed to relieve herself.

She did.

Quite desperately, in truth.

No doubt, he did too, though how she would get back onto the horse might prove challenging.