She looked at her father, then at the coach.
“Go,” her father said. “This is not up for discussion.”
Hew thought Miss Howard might just stomp her foot in a show of petulance. Instead, she sloshed past the outrider, ignoring his help, and climbed into the coach. Hew wished he could have done the same, but he would have ended up face down in the muddy water. Instead, he allowed the outrider to help him into the coach, where he sank into the squabs beside Miss Howard. She gave him a look that stabbed almost as deep as his wound and turned her back to him.
Lady Keating climbed in last, taking a seat across from them. A moment later, the coach lurched away, leaving Mr. Howard slumped in the doorway of Howard’s Teas & Treats with Mrs. Price at his side.
MRS. PRICE HAD BEEN waiting for this moment for years. Belle knew the thought was uncharitable, but it was true. Mrs. Price had been trying to sink her claws into Belle’s father for as long as she could remember. Maggie had always thought it was sweet. She’d even tried to play matchmaker, but Belle had been glad her father showed little interest. In fact, he’d seemed oblivious to Mrs. Price’s efforts at flirtation.
Now, he was in her clutches.
Oh, very well, she thought as the carriage moved slowly away from Fenchurch Street and toward Mayfair. That characterization was a bit dramatic. Still, Belle would like to have cared for her father herself. And that was just selfishness because even this afternoon Mrs. Price had demonstrated she was a better nurse than Belle. Besides, Belle would not be away long. She’d see Mr. Arundel settled then return to Fenchurch Street to help repair the damage from the fire to the shop and they’d be open again in just a few days.
She sighed with impatience at the slow-moving conveyance. The rain had made the roads worse than usual and standing water impeded their progress further. She glanced at Arundel. Lady Keating had given them both blankets to ward off the chill from their damp clothing, but Arundel was still shivering, and his hands were white knuckled on his knees. Clearly, the journey was causing him pain. Belle couldn’t even fathom how he was still upright.
First, he had shocked her by appearing in the flat when she’d heard the intruders. How could he have possibly heard them and known they were a danger? She’d not even been injured and almost slept through their break-in. Then he had fought them off—with her help, of course—and insisted on working with her to douse the fire. All of this while battling a life-threatening injury and fever.
Who was this man?
Belle glanced at Lady Keating, who was also watching Arundel fighting his pain. The two women exchanged a look then Lady Keating opened a compartment in her seat and withdrew a dark bottle. She uncorked it and handed it to Arundel. “Drink this.”
He took the bottle, sniffed, then drank a large sip and handed it back.
“He has seen a doctor?” Lady Keating asked.
“Yes, and a surgeon who stitched the wound before he came to stay with us,” Belle answered.
“They gave him laudanum, I assume,” Lady Keating said.
“He won’t take any.” Belle realized she’d left the laudanum in the flat, so even if Arundel had agreed to a dose, she had none to offer.
“I have something that will help with the pain. I’ll need to take a look at what we’re dealing with first, though.”
“You need to take a look?” Arundel said. “No.”
Lady Keating didn’t argue, but Belle saw the tightening around her mouth and doubted the conversation was over. Though the woman had white hair and her face showed the lines of age, she carried herself with an authority that indicated she was used to being obeyed. “I don’t think I caught your name,” Lady Keating said to Belle, which was a polite way of indicating they hadn’t been introduced.
Arundel waved a hand. “Lady Keating, might I present Miss Belle Howard.”
“It’s Isabelle Howard,” Belle said. “But my friends call me Belle.”
“Miss Isabelle Howard,” Arundel said, “the Baroness Keating.”
“I’d curtsey,” Belle said, “but I’m not sure how one does that in a coach.” Or even outside of a coach.
“It’s not necessary, Miss Howard. The shop where there was a small fire—was that your family’s shop?”
“Yes, my father’s tea shop. The two ruffians who stabbed Mr. Arundel set it on fire.”
“The fire was contained?”
“Yes. I did not have a chance to assess the damage, but once Mr. Arundel is settled, I will return and do so.”
“Hmm.” Lady Keating pursed her lips. She offered the bottle to Arundel again, but he shook his head. Lady Keating replaced it in the seat compartment and closed it. “Are you in London on a mission for my husband?” Lady Keating asked.
Her husband? Her husband was part of Arundel’s secret group?
“No. I just finished a mission and am in London on holiday.”
