Free Too Dangerous For a Lady by Jo Beverley Page A

whether their glances at their coach showed resentment or worse. Could they turn their tools as weapons against her family?
    Oh, nonsense. This was England, and those were honest workingmen, just like the ones she’d known all her life. In Yorkshire she often passed time with their wives and daughters, talking about the weather and sharing wisdom about how to get the hens to lay, and how to preserve meat longer into the winter.
    This journey could benefit everyone on William’s estate. With Great-uncle Peake’s money William would be able to hire men to do necessary repairs to Selby Hall and other buildings. There’d be improvements to the land and the laborers’ cottages. Polly would hire more servants in the house and dairy, and be able to be less frugal all around. What a merry Christmas the next one might be.
    And Cousin Porteous would lose any ability to force her into marriage. She might even have a dowry large enough . . .
    No. Despite magical memories and astonishing kisses, Thayne was a thief. There had to be many decent ways for a man like him to make his living, but he’d chosen to steal, which meant other people lost their hard-earned property to him. Even if he did reform when he could marry a rich woman, did she want a man like that?
    Yes, said her weak and wanting part.
    â€œOh, you idiot.” She’d actually mumbled it and the others looked at her. “Sorry, nothing. Where do we stop next?”
    â€œIn Warrington,” William said, consulting a map and a guidebook. “We’ll dine there and give the horses a long rest. Our route crosses the main Carlisle-to-London road, so there are any number of inns. We have no need of the hustle and bustle of the center, so we’ll stop earlier.” He ran his finger down a page. “The Lamb sounds tranquil.”
    In time, the coachman steered under an arch into a smallinnyard, but an ostler urged them through another arch into a more spacious area. “For there’s plenty of space back there, sir, and a lane back to the street.”
    â€œAnd the small yard will then look more inviting to another coach,” Polly murmured.
    â€œNothing wrong with that,” William said as the coach just made it through the second arch. “And look, there’s a grassy area and a pond with ducks. After we’ve eaten, the boys will enjoy playing here.”
    Not just ducks but ducklings, so the boys had to be compelled to eat first. As soon as they’d finished, they were fidgeting to be off. William said to Polly, “I’ll take them out there. The horses need more rest, so why don’t you and Hermione stroll around the town a little?”
    Henrietta was asleep, so they soon set off, sharing the task of carrying her.
    Hermione knew this jaunt was to help settle Polly’s nerves, for she loved to shop. Selby village offered no opportunity for this pleasure, and if they went to nearby Wakefield, Polly was more likely to be upset about all the items she couldn’t afford. This was shopping for amusement only, but it was spiced by possibility. Beneath every discussion of a bonnet, a china dish, or a bar of French soap ran,
If we get Great-uncle Peake’s money . . .
    The amusement was ended by an ominous rumbling sound from the infant, accompanied by a smell. Thank heavens Polly had charge of Henrietta at the moment. “Time to go back,” she said, in the manner of one forced back to grim reality.
    â€œBut toward our future,” Hermione said. “What do you say to my stopping at the shop to buy a bar of that soap? It’s not a great deal of money and it will remind us of all the other pleasures.”
    â€œOh, do! But I must hurry back.”
    â€œI’ll be perfectly safe on this busy street for five minutes,and indeed if I were set upon by brigands, I don’t see what you could do.”
    Polly laughed. “You’re always so practical, dearest.