Page 59 of Crash Landing
“Will you show me?”
“Yes,” he said with a wicked arch of his eyebrow. “But not here and not now, or Timmons will have a seizure.”
She grinned. “Oh dear. We must not have every vital organ in his body falling into spasms. Look, he’s peering out the parlor window to see if we are still locking lips.”
“Ah, and he’s started toward us.”
She darted off his lap. “Do not kiss me again or he’ll run away.”
“So what?”
“I am thirsty again.”
So was he, but his thirst was for Florence.
The poor butler’s face was a fiery red as he approached with a fresh pitcher of lemonade, set it down on the table, and then sprinted back into the house with a lively spring in his step to resume his post by the front door.
Trajan laughed. “Well, we made quite an impression on him.”
Florence buried her head in her hands. “Oh, this is awful. Now he thinks I am a shameful wanton.”
“No, love.” He took her hands in his and had her look up at him. “Florence, this might scare you. It surely scares me. But it is very possible we have already fallen in love with each other. Not just on the way to it, but there.”
“Do you think so? Is this why you mistakenly called me your beloved earlier?”
He nodded. “But it was no mistake.”
“It felt nice, as though you really meant it. Why did you pretend itwasn’t real? Oh, never mind. I know why. Because of this horrid Frampton affair. I cannot wait until it is over and done.”
“Nor can I.”
“About that…I will need to leave for London as soon as I get my hands on those letters.”
“Agreed, butwewill go together. There’s no negotiation on this. You are not taking that trip alone.”
“All right. In truth, I prefer to have you with me, since a woman alone would be an easy mark for every highwayman and cutpurse from here to London. We ought to travel on horseback, even though I am not a very good rider and will likely slow us down. But horses are still faster than taking a carriage, are they not?”
“Mail coaches are even faster.”
“Oh, you’ve given our getaway plan some thought?”
He nodded. “If you manage to grab those letters, then we’ll ride to Bournemouth and take the first mail coach to London from the coaching inn there.”
“What of the horses?”
“I know a reliable stable owner. He’ll hold them until one of my cousins rides over to pick them up.”
“We have to worry about Frampton following us.”
“Yes,” he said. “I’ve thought of that, too.”
“What’s your plan?”
“Nothing complicated, but it will require the cooperation of Hermia, my cousins, and some of the Gull Hall staff. Most have been in service here for years under my granduncle and can be trusted to follow my instructions to the letter.”
“Are you sure it isn’t complicated?”
“Yes, I’m sure. We may need a decoy.”
