“Yes, I know,” he said apologetically. “But Grandmama arrived in town last night and she has commandeered the barouche for her own use. And I wasn’t about to bring an open carriage, not after we were half drowned the other day in the park. Now, may I assist you?” He opened the door.
“Thank you, I’m perfectly capable of mounting a few steps,” she said, still prickling with suspicion.
He opened the door. “Stay!”
She blinked, glanced inside, and suspicion was replaced by laughter. “This is your ‘very reliable chaperone’?”
“Are you doubting his credentials?” he said with mock indignation. “He won’t leave us alone for a minute, I can guarantee it. Not unless there’s a rabbit in the vicinity.”
Chuckling, she climbed into the carriage, where she and Hamish had an ecstatic reunion. Julian followed her in, blocking the view from any observers outside. He turned, waved to her sisters on the steps of the house and told the coachman to drive on.
The carriage set off with a jerk, and he dropped into the seat opposite Zoë, feeling very satisfied. There. It was done.
“You are shameless, you know.” Zoë fondled Hamish’s silky ears. “Bamboozling my sisters and Lady Scattergood that way.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” His blue eyes danced like sunlight on waves.
“You’re not the least bit sorry!”
“I know. Sorry.”
Zoë shook her head in frustration. Of course he wasn’t sorry. He’d achieved exactly what he wanted. But she wasn’t really upset. She did want to talk to him. She’d hardly had a wink of sleep last night, thinking about him, wondering and worrying about what to do.
She’d missed him dreadfully since she’d slipped out of the caravan that morning, and it didn’t seem to matter how often or how firmly she told herself that he was no good and she’d be better off without him, it made no difference. Swindler, villain, liar, she wanted him, and that was the truth.
She glanced out the window and stiffened. “This isn’t the way to the park.”
“No, we’re going the long way.”
He looked so innocent she knew something was up. She narrowed her eyes. “Where are we going?”
“Ardingly.”
“Ardingly? I’ve never heard of that. Where is it?”
“It’s a delightful small village. There’s an ancient, ratherlovely church established, I believe, by some fellow who came over with the Conqueror. Then there’s the remains of a Roman road that’s even more ancient, of course, and—”
“Where is it?”
“Farther along this road.” He waved vaguely.
She narrowed her eyes. “How far from London?”
He pursed his lips, thinking. “I’d say about forty miles.”
“Forty miles! I don’t believe it.”
“It was an estimate,” he said earnestly. “I could be wrong—rounding off, you know. Maybe it’s only thirty-nine miles or even thirty-eight.”
“Reynard! Stop prevaricating! Tell me why we’re going to Ardingly.”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you? We’re going to visit my sister, Dot. I told you about her, didn’t I? She’s married to Fred, and they live on a charming estate just outside Ardingly. The house was built in the late sixteenth century, and—”
“Why. Are. You. Taking. Me. There?”
He didn’t answer for a moment, but his eyes were dancing with mischief and a smile quivered on his lips, as if trying to escape. “Isn’t it obvious? I’ve kidnapped you.”
She sank back against her seat. “Of course you have. I should have known you were up to something devious and disreputable.”
