Page 19 of The Banished Bride
“A most interesting idea,” murmured Jack, in obvious fascination.
“What sort of woman would we be looking for?” added Alex.
“One who is clever and resourceful. One who is practical enough to do meticulous planning and imaginative enough to be able to improvise if things go awry. And most of all, one who has the nerve and resolve to take great risks in order get what she desires.”
“Sounds very much like you.” As Aurora’s mouth fell open in indignant protest, he grinned. “Except for the, er, ladybird part, of course.”
“Hmmph!” Resisting the childish urge to stick out her tongue, she merely narrowed her eyes and gave him what she hoped was a piercing glare before turning away with an audible sniff. “As I was saying, sir,” she went on, directing her words to Jack alone. “Is there anyone among your suspects who might be prone to be boastful. Or in need of being told how very clever he is?”
He scratched at his thatch of chestnut curls. “Now that you mention it, Dearbourne or Meechum might be possible candidates. Both think rather highly of themselves, and both have expensivecher amies.
His choice of a French phrase set Aurora to thinking. “Cher amies—I don’t suppose either of the ladies in question has anything so obvious as a French parent?”
A look of dawning comprehension spread across Jack’s face, followed by one of undisguised admiration. “By Jove, whata clever idea, Mrs. Sprague! I should never have thought of something like that.” He spent some time mulling over the question. “It may be nothing important, but I think I remember some rumors about Dearbourne’s, er, lady having spent some time in Paris.”
“Would either of you recognize her on sight?”
Alex shook his head. “It has been some time since I was last in London. What about you, Jack?”
“Ahhh, I do believe I have seen her at the Opera and, er, at perhaps several other places.”
“Well then, that is one face to be watching for.” Aurora drummed her fingers on the rough wood of the table. “But don’t expect her to make it easy for you. She’ll not act or dress as she would in London. No, this woman has shown herself to be extremely clever. Be on the lookout for an aging lady’s maid or a simple farmer’s wife.”
“You think she may be a master at disguise?” asked Jack with some incredulity.
Aurora permitted herself a slight smile. “Of course. Females in her line of work understand all too well the art of appearance.” She then stood up and gave a small yawn. “Now, if you gentlemen have no further questions, I think I will lie down for a bit.”
Jack scrambled to his feet, while Alex took a bit more time in rising. “I think I shall do the same,” he announced. After a bit of a stretch he removed his jacket and started for the back room.
“A-are you going to?—”
“Sleep with you?” He finished off the sentence when it became clear the words were stuck in her throat. “A lovely offer, but I’m afraid I’m too tired to be at my best. Another time, maybe.”
“Conceited oaf,” she muttered through clenched teeth, mortified that yet again he had managed to bring a burn to her cheeks.
Alex was already dragging the second pallet into the main room. “Just teasing, Aurora.”
She was about to inform him that she had not granted him leave to use her given name with such irritating regularity when she saw a spasm of pain squeeze the laughter from his eyes. “Let Jack finish with that, sir. The bandage on your shoulder needs to be changed.” The edge was gone from her voice, replaced by a stab of concern. “Sit down and let me attend to it.”
He looked up, surprised. “You needn’t trouble yourself. I’ve dealt with plenty of scratches over the years. If I need a hand, Jack can help with the dressing.”
Such assurances caused the other man to go a bit pale. “Ahhh, actually, I’m not sure that I am?—”
“Males usually make a hash of such things—that is, if they don’t keel over first. Really, one would think that given your penchant for violence, you men wouldn’t be so squeamish at the sight of a little blood.” She disappeared for a moment, then returned with her reticule in hand. “I took the precaution of keeping a roll of clean linen in here.”
“A shame that the flask of brandy wasn’t as pliable as cloth,” quipped Alex.
“Oh, it wasn’t the spirits that shattered, it was the bottle of vinaigrette. So don’t faint again.”
“I didn’t faint,” he murmured. “But why on earth do you carry vinaigrette? Somehow I can’t imagine you ever succumbing to a fit of girlish vapors.”
“It makes sense to be prepared for every contingency.” Her fingers peeled back the shirt from his shoulder. “Jack, I don’t suppose you have a bowl that I might use for the water?”
The other man rummaged in his rucksack and managed to locate a battered tin cup.
“That will do.” Aurora unwrapped the old bandage, then extracted another bit of cloth, along with a glass vial, from her reticule. After dampening the rag, she began to swab at the jagged wound. Jack made a strange sound in the back of his throat and offered to refill the jug. He was out of the door without waiting for a reply.
“OUCH!” exclaimed Alex.
