Free Reluctant Bride by Joan Smith Page A

trouble is, I am not free to help you. I must be in London before morning. I was about to climb into my curricle this very minute and get back on the road.”
    “That is a pity, but the gentleman who caused my accident is giving every assistance. Have you time to step into the parlor yonder and make his acquaintance?”
    “I wish I had, but this business of my watch has held me up so long. I have to get to London tonight. I really must dash off. I suppose it is folly to hope you have changed your destination?” he asked, with a rather shy smile.
    “I'm afraid it is.”
    “I was right the first time. She is perverse. Fate, I mean.” He looked at me with those long-fringed eyes. There was regret in them, and if there was not the same expression in mine I would be much mistaken. He bowed, turned and left. Mitzi, showing great discrimination, had been well-behaved throughout the meeting.
    I turned back to our parlor, then realized I had removed my spencer and would want it for the walk, so darted back to our room to get it. When I descended, the sultry-eyed female had emerged from her parlor and had cornered Sir Edmund. She was talking to him, batting her lashes, smiling. She lifted her head like a duchess when I approached; and ducked back into her parlor, as she had not time to get out of my view in any other direction.
    “I thought she might possibly have seen Greenie,” Blount explained, with a sheepish look.
    “Had she?”
    “I hadn’t time to inquire. She mistook you for my wife—was just asking about you.”
    “I trust you told her you are a confirmed misogamist.”
    “Somehow, the matter did not arise. I had not time to make her any proposal, you see.”
    “Only a proposition? Or does she handle the business details herself?”
    I do not know whether his glare was for my question or Mitzi’s querulous snapping at his boots. “Let’s get out of here before the mutt disgraces us,” he suggested.
    As we went toward the door I said, “As it happens, I have learned Greenie was in town. I met Colonel Fortescue in the lobby just a moment ago.”
    “You should have brought him in to meet us. I would like to see the paragon.”
    I gave a wistful sigh. “Unfortunately, he was in a great rush to get to London. I don’t suppose I shall ever see him again. Two ships that pass in the night . . .”
    “Did the ship have anything useful to tell you?”
    I outlined Fortescue’s information as we strolled along the main thoroughfare, our chore of walking the dog requiring a leisurely pace.
    “The idiot!” Sir Edmund muttered. “Hadn’t the wits to have the jackanapes arrested.”
    “He is too soft-hearted. I told him so. He was very upset about it.”
    “I expect that was enough to make him break into tears.”
    “No, he is too manly for tears. A veteran, you know, wounded.”
    “In the Peninsula,” he added.
    We kept an eye peeled for Greenie. Colors were still discernable, though everything was turning to gray rather rapidly. Mitzi, whom I had not fed yet, kept her nose to the ground for food and found a crust of bread against a shop wall. I tried to tug her away from it, but she held firm, necessitating my going closer to lift her away.
    “This is a pawn shop,” Sir Edmund mentioned, as these establishments were of particular interest to us. “We must try it in the morning, if my search is not successful tonight.”
    “Yes, close to the coach stop, too. He might well have unloaded his loot here.” I glanced into the window, and emitted a shriek. “Sir Edmund! That’s it! There, right in the middle of the window—my diamond necklace.”
    He nearly put his head through the glass in his excitement. He leaned against the windowpane, as I did myself, to verify my jewelry. “Funny the man would put such a valuable thing in the window—vulnerable. Anyone could break the glass and steal it. You’ll notice the other objects are not really worth much. Watches, fans, hats . . . No genuine jewelry but