Читать книгу: «Regency Rogues: Unlacing The Forbidden», страница 7

Chapter Nine

Thea took a deep breath and willed herself to calm. Panicking would only make her appear self-conscious and that would raise Mr Benton’s suspicions about her scandalous status, even if he had none now.

She cast a harried glance out of the window at Rhys, who at least seemed capable of sitting a horse without collapse, and studied her new companion. ‘You are travelling far, sir?’ That was a safe sort of question and put the focus on him.

‘To the Mediterranean coast.’ He smiled. ‘I have no very clear destination. I am taking advantage of the recent peace to indulge myself with a journey south to the sun before I take up a new position.’

‘A new parish?’

‘No. After I was ordained I realised I was not cut out for the ministry. I desired to put my talents, such as they are, in the service of the reform of society. I have taken a post as secretary to Lord Carstairs.’

‘He has interested himself in the abolition of slavery, has he not?’ It was a cause she had read much about, much to the disapproval of her father, who had interests in the West Indies. ‘It must be a great satisfaction to assist in that endeavour.’

‘Yes, of course, I should have realised you would be knowledgeable on the subject,’ he said, puzzling Thea. But Mr Benton swept on before she could query it. ‘He is also interested in prison reform, and his wife, Lady Carstairs, is active in advancing the education of women. I hope I may make some contribution to all three causes. I was very fortunate that my elder brother, Lord Fulgrove, knows Lord Carstairs well and was able to recommend me to him.’

‘Lord Fulgrove?’ Thea faltered before she could gather her wits.

Mr Benton shifted on his seat. ‘But do I not know you? I thought your face familiar, but I cannot place… I know, I have seen you talking to my sisters Jane and Elspeth in the park.’

Thea stared at him, struggling to find something intelligently evasive to say. ‘I have met them a few times.’ First the risk of scandal, now the danger that word would get back to Papa.

‘I shall make a point of telling them how you aided me,’ Mr Benton said. ‘I write to them almost daily. They will be delighted to know their friend Miss Smith is such a Good Samaritan.’

‘Ah. I, um… We have arrived at the inn. It seems exceedingly shabby.’ She lowered the window as Rhys walked over. ‘I do not like the look of this place. See how dirty the windows are, and the yard is full of rubbish.’

‘Indeed, the merest country drinking house and none too well equipped for travellers by the look of it.’

‘We cannot abandon Mr Benton here.’ The sooner they parted company the better, but she could not allow his health to be jeopardised to conceal her guilty secrets. A blow to the head was potentially very serious, and he had lost a lot of blood, even before his heroic efforts with the diligence. ‘He is travelling south. We can carry him to Lyon and find a doctor to attend to his head.’ She turned to study his pale face. ‘I fear you may require stitches, sir.’

Both men began to speak, but Polly, opening the opposite door to place a small bag on the floor, cut across them both. ‘Here’s the bag with the medical supplies. Mr Hodge thought the gentleman might need a fresh bandage, Lady Althea.’

Mr Benton shot Thea a glance and closed his lips firmly in a gesture that spoke far louder than any words. Rhys rolled his eyes upwards. ‘Devil take it.’

Thea looked from one to the other, her heart sinking. He was a clergyman; he would not condone what he thought to be immorality. ‘May I trust your discretion, Mr Benton?’

‘This is an elopement, I collect?’ he enquired stiffly. ‘Naturally, it is none of my business.’

‘No, we are not eloping!’

‘Perish the thought,’ Rhys added with what Thea felt was unflattering emphasis. ‘I am escorting Lady Althea to our godmother, Lady Hughson, in Venice. We are childhood friends.’

Mr Benton’s poker face softened into a smile. ‘Lady Hughson? I know her well. What a relief! I should have realised nothing untoward was happening after observing your gallant and selfless actions at the scene of the accident. I do apologise! Lady Althea…?’

‘Curtiss,’ she supplied, her conscience giving her a decided pang. They might not be sinning in fact, but her imagination was scandalous enough to condemn her in the eyes of any minister. ‘Because circumstances have led us to travel in a manner which is so open to misunderstanding, I hope you will understand if I ask you not to mention that we met along the way.’

‘But of course,’ Mr Benton assured her. ‘My lips are sealed.’

‘In that case,’ Thea said, ‘I will dress your head with a proper bandage and then we will be on our way to Lyon. Lord Palgrave, would you be so good as to have the sleeping couch put in place for Mr Benton? I am sure he should be lying down.’

‘By no means, Lady Althea,’ he protested. ‘I assure you I will be quite well sitting up—and in any case, I should be travelling with your servants in the coach, should I not? After all, a lady alone in a chaise…’

‘I have been travelling in the chaise with Lord Palgrave for most of this journey,’ Thea said, unwinding the makeshift dressing from his head. ‘I may as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb. Besides, I doubt the presence of a clergyman will harm my reputation.’ She peered at the cut. ‘The bleeding has stopped, and I will not risk starting it again by washing your head with the water from this dirty inn. If you will just sit quite still…’

By the time they reached Lyon at seven o’clock that evening Rhys was convinced that he would never get off the horse, let alone walk to his bedchamber. The bruising and strains from holding up the coach had coalesced into one blaze of pain, and his hands, cut and pierced with splinters, were cramped on the reins.

‘Hodge,’ he called as the valet stepped down from the coach, ‘see her ladyship and Mr Benton into the inn. I need to talk to Felling.’

He waited until they had vanished through the impressive front door of the Chapeau Rouge before he called to the coachman, ‘Tom, come and give me a hand, I’m damned if I’m going to fall flat on my face in front of a gaggle of French ostlers.’

It was inelegant and exceedingly painful, but they managed the manoeuvre with a lot of swearing on Rhys’s part. ‘Say nothing to her ladyship or that maid of hers, do you understand?’

‘Yes, my lord. You need some liniment on your back, I reckon. Got just the thing in my baggage.’

‘Horse liniment? Do you want to take the skin off my back, man?’

‘If it’ll do for your thoroughbreds, I reckon it won’t do you much harm, my lord,’ the coachman said. ‘But they’ll be getting a doctor to the other gentleman and he’ll prescribe some fancy French potions for you that’ll set you back a bit of gold, I reckon.’

‘Hot bath is all I need,’ Rhys muttered. It took him the width of the courtyard before he could walk with the appearance of ease, but he managed the stairs and found Althea and Mr Benton in the private salon he had written ahead to reserve.

They were, it seemed, on first-name terms already. ‘The landlord has sent for a doctor and is making up the spare bedchamber in this suite for Giles. Is it not fortunate that they gave us such a spacious one?’ Thea did not turn round as she attempted to press Benton into a chair while she stayed on her feet. ‘Giles, it is foolish to stand on ceremony. You must take care and, really, I am such good friends with your sisters that you may treat me quite as one of them.’

Rhys cast a swift glance at Benton, whose faint air of dizziness seemed to owe at least as much to the effect of being organised by Thea as it did to his head wound. Or perhaps, he thought, narrowing his eyes at the other man, it was more than that. Thea, enchanting a clergyman? Surely not.

‘What are you laughing about?’ Thea demanded, her attention still on her patient. Apparently his huff of amusement had been audible.

‘Just relief at the thought of a hot bath. I’ll see you both at dinner,’ he added, and caught sight of his own grey face in a mirror. Lord, he’d better be out of there before she noticed he was looking like death warmed over.

‘Your chamber is here, my lord.’ Hodge at least had the sense not to exclaim at the sight of him until the door was closed behind them. ‘I’ll send the doctor to you when he arrives.’

‘Certainly not. There is nothing wrong with me that a good soak and basilicum powder will not put to rights. Which is probably more than can be said for that coat,’ he added as Hodge eased him out of it and then held it up to inspect its battered back.

The sting of the hot water had made him hiss between his teeth as he lowered himself into it, but half an hour’s soak had loosened the abused muscles, and he felt rather more human when he climbed out of the tub and wrapped a vast bath sheet around his waist.

Hodge began to dab cautiously at his back with a towel while Rhys hitched one hip on the edge of the table and contemplated his bruised and splinter-stuck hands. ‘I need a needle to get these out, Hodge. Can you find one?’

‘In my baggage next door, my lord. I won’t be a moment.’

The door behind Rhys opened and he added, ‘Tweezers might be a good thing, too.’

‘Rhys Denham! Look at the state of your back!’

‘I can’t, can I?’ he said reasonably, without turning. ‘Thea, you should not be in here. I am not dressed.’ In fact, he was damn near naked. Rhys reached for a towel to toss around his shoulders.

‘Don’t do that,’ Thea said sharply. ‘It needs dressing properly. Why on earth didn’t you say it was this bad?’

‘Hate fuss,’ Rhys muttered. ‘Will you please—?’

‘Hodge, kindly tell the doctor to come in here as soon as he has finished stitching Mr Benton’s head.’

Rhys took a deep breath. Unfortunately, getting the man out of the room was essential before this went any further. ‘Hodge, go and see if you can assist Mr Benton.’ He waited until the door was closed behind the valet before he added, ‘Thea, go away.’

‘You always were dreadful about admitting you were sick or hurt,’ she said, deaf to both orders and propriety. Rhys heard the rustle of her skirts and then a towel was pressed gently over his back. ‘I’ll just get this dry and then you can get half dressed at least before the doctor comes in.’

He should get up and put her outside, but, clad in only a thin towel, Rhys had no confidence in maintaining even a vestige of decency. ‘If I promise to let the doctor see to my back, will you leave?’

‘Of course.’ Thea came round to face him, her eyes sharp as she studied his naked torso. ‘Your front does not appear to be injured.’

Rhys clutched a towel to his chest before she saw his nipples tightening. He did not dare look down to see how effective the towel around his waist was at concealing his sudden arousal. ‘All I need is a light dressing on my back,’ he began, but she reached out and took his hands in hers.

‘Oh, look at these! How could you have held the reins? I will get a needle and some tweezers and take those splinters out while the doctor sees to your back.’ To Rhys’s enormous relief she released him. ‘I’ll leave you in peace to put your pantaloons on and come back when he has finished with Giles.’

‘Thea, has no one told you that a young lady should faint before mentioning a man’s nether garments?’ Rhys demanded as she bustled away. He was not certain whether he was more relieved that she had taken no notice of his near-naked state—let alone the effect she was having on him—or whether he was indignant at being bossed around by her. The temptation to get up and let his draperies fall where they might was considerable. That would stop her ever trying such tricks again.

‘Of course,’ she said with a gurgle of laughter. ‘Oh, poor Rhys, am I embarrassing you?’

‘Shocking me, more like.’ But she had gone.

It was quite obvious that she regarded him in no other light than the friend of her childhood. Grown-up to be sure, but no more to be treated with reserve than his fourteen-year-old self had been.

The only positive aspect to this trusting innocence, he concluded as he reached for his trousers, was that he was alone in the unfortunate physical attraction that being close to her provoked. If she felt the slightest awareness of him as a sexual being she would never be so open and so unselfconscious.

The doctor was ushered in ten minutes later. Monsieur Benton needed only a little rest. He had not even felt it necessary to bleed him. Ah, but monsieur le comte required a dressing on those abrasions and to rest for two or three days.

‘Be damned to that,’ Rhys said in English and was tutted at by Thea, who sat in front of him wielding a darning needle and tweezers to efficient, but painful, effect on his hands.

‘Do listen to reason,’ she scolded, her eyes fixed on what she was doing.

Rhys tried to sit still while the doctor prodded his bruised back and fixed his eyes on her bowed head, the neat centre parting of her hair and the intricate twists that secured it. How long is it? he wondered. If I pull out those pins…

Thea was still lecturing. ‘…or I will tell him to bleed you. Besides, Lyon looks delightful—what is the rush to get south?’ She did not wait for his reply. ‘May we suggest to Giles that he travel with us? I do not think he should travel on the diligence until he is well again, do you?’

Rhys almost told her that his vehicles were neither a public carrier nor a mobile hospital unit, then bit his tongue. ‘You like him?’ he asked warily.

‘Very much. He is intelligent and good company and he was very brave back there on the road. Not as brave as you, of course,’ she finished, matter-of-factly.

‘Thank you.’ She thought him brave? He had acted without considering the dangers because it was obvious what would happen if he did not stop the vehicle’s slide downwards. A flutter of something absurdly like pride surprised him. Popinjay, he reproved himself. A gentleman simply did what was necessary without having to think about it, that was all.

But Benton, who’d had the opportunity to assess the dangers, and who was hurt into the bargain, was obviously a man of courage and resolution. And good birth, even if he is a younger son. An idea, probably absurd, was beginning to form. Thea ought to be married to someone of her own choosing. The man should be someone of principle who would value her for what she was, not for her connections and wealth. The nonsense about wanting to fall in love was just that, nonsense, and she would realise it soon enough once she found someone congenial and eligible she could trust. Someone who would steady her wild starts.

Rhys would give Benton some subtle encouragement. It was, if he said it himself, a brilliant plan. Thea eligibly, if not spectacularly, married, no risk of scandal—Godmama could put it about that Thea and Benton had met when Thea was staying with her in Venice—and the fact that she had travelled there so scandalously would be conveniently hidden.

The doctor finished and Hodge ushered him out. Thea dropped her tweezers on the table and peered at his hands closely. ‘There! That should do perfectly,’ she exclaimed, tipping her head back to study his face. ‘And just what are you looking so smug about, my lord?’

‘Just relief that it is over.’ Rhys tried to turn the smirk into something innocuous. Relief no one was prodding his injuries any longer and relief that, as Thea said, he always had a plan.

Chapter Ten

‘And you will rest for at least two days?’

Rhys gave a heavy sigh. Thea watched him suspiciously. He sounded as though he was reluctantly allowing himself to be persuaded. ‘Two nights, certainly. And you and Benton can explore the city, if he feels well enough. I’ll spend tomorrow lying down,’ Rhys added. ‘I’ll probably go mad with boredom, but it is no doubt sensible.’

That was so unlike Rhys. Perhaps he really had changed with the years, for she would have sworn he would do anything rather than admit to weakness.

‘Giles says his headache is better already and the doctor does not think he has a concussion, so if you do not need us, it will be amusing to explore.’ She reached for a towel and tried to pat his hands dry.

Rhys twitched it out of her grasp. ‘Don’t fuss, Thea. I’m indestructible—you should know that by now.’

And yet you meekly agree to rest? ‘Don’t say that and tempt fate.’ She met his eyes, saw thoughts there she could not decipher and felt the colour rise to her cheeks. ‘I am sorry I burst in here when you were…had just got out of your bath. I had no wish to put you to the blush.’ Rhys raised one eyebrow and she laughed. ‘I suppose managing that is quite a challenge! But I made you uncomfortable, I know that.’

It had certainly made her uncomfortable. The shock of seeing his elegant, muscled back, and then the realisation of how much those vicious bruises and splits across the skin must hurt, had left her dizzy with a mixture of desire, horror and admiration for Rhys’s stoicism.

Thea got up and walked across to the bed where his shirt was laid ready. She found she was shivering. Perhaps it was delayed shock after the accident, or perhaps the realisation of just how much danger they had been in under that carriage. She let her fingertips trail over the soft linen. Yes, both those things, but most of all, the impact of finding herself alone with Rhys when he was almost naked.

‘You had better put this on. I’ll help you so you do not dislodge the dressings.’ She gathered it up in her hands as fiercely as she gathered her self-control and turned, her expression schooled into the one of slightly harassed practicality she knew he’d recognise.

Rhys still sat on the edge of the table, which brought them almost eye to eye. He bent his head for her to drop the shirt over, then threaded his hands into the sleeves, a little clumsy because of the strapping. For some reason that made her vision blur with sudden tears. I might have lost him.

Thea swallowed and reached to straighten the collar where it had rucked up at the back of his neck. With Rhys so close she could feel the warmth of his skin against her chest, see the laughter lines at the corner of his eyes, paler against his faintly tanned skin. What joys had caused that laughter? And what concerns had etched the faint lines between his brows and at the corners of his lips? Rhys had an entire, adult life she knew nothing of. Her fingers brushed the ends of his hair as she fussed with the collar.

Her composure seemed to unravel as though he had tugged a string, and yet he had not moved or spoken. ‘I was worried about you,’ Thea said abruptly. Before she could think she was clinging to him, her arms tight around his neck, her face buried in his shirtfront. ‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled into the cloth. ‘But when the diligence collapsed I thought you were still under it.’

Rhys closed his arms around her body and held her close. It must hurt him to hold me so, she thought, her senses filled with the scent of his damp skin, the Castile soap he had used in the bath, the smell of the liniment the doctor had applied. She felt him rest his cheek on the crown of her head and closed her eyes.

When he spoke softly against her hair it was as though his voice resonated through to the soles of her feet. ‘You told me, when you were burrowing through the mud beneath my feet, that you trusted me to hold it up.’

‘I did. For as long as there was anyone under it, I knew you would, somehow. I knew I was safe, and the baby, too. But when we were out…’

‘Hush now.’ Rhys rocked her back and forth, gentler than she could ever remember him being. All her will-power seemed to ebb as his tenderness sapped it. She would weep in a moment, and she had to be strong. ‘We are all safe. Don’t think about what might have been or you will have nightmares.’

‘I know.’ Thea sniffed, determined not to let him see how affected she was by the touch of his body, the strength of his embrace.

She felt his mouth move against her hair and knew he smiled. ‘Don’t you go crying on me now, Thea.’

‘I’m not.’

‘You are sniffing.’ He chuckled. ‘Any other woman I have had in my arms would die rather than do anything so prosaic.’ Any other woman would be in his arms because he desired them. ‘No other woman I can think of would be so brave. All right now?’

‘Mmm.’ She loosened her stranglehold on his neck and leaned back against his linked arms to look up into his face, almost undone by that tribute. She had thought him angry with her, or, at the very least, that he had considered her foolhardy. She blinked back unshed tears, glad now she had not given in to them. ‘Thank you.’

His lips were very close to hers. How had that happened? His breath was sweet—coffee and honey—and his lips were parted, his eyes intent and bright. She swayed closer as he lifted one hand to her hair, fumbled for the pins. What was he doing? His cut, bruised fingers lacked finesse, strands catching as the pins fell to the floor with tiny metallic sounds, and she felt the whole elegant construction unravel before the sliding weight was caught up in his palms.

‘Soft, brown, scented silk,’ he murmured.

‘Rhys?’

‘Thea.’ She saw the movement of his throat as he swallowed and his voice roughened as he said, ‘I wanted to see what it was like down. It is lovely, a living thing.’

‘Mousy,’ she protested.

‘Pretty mouse.’

She took a deep breath and realised that she had been holding it ever since he had touched her hair. What is happening? One of us has to be sensible. ‘I think we have both had a shock today and probably we are not ourselves. Perhaps we should lie down before dinner.’

For a moment she saw the thoughts behind his eyes quite clearly. He had interpreted that as an euphemism, believed for a moment that she was suggesting they lie down on his bed and… Please. Had she said that out loud?

Then Rhys’s face became an expressionless mask. She stepped back and he opened his fingers, letting her hair fall around her shoulders.

‘That is a good idea.’ Rhys said. ‘Will you give Hodge whatever orders you think best about dinner? Tell him I am going to rest now and will not need him until just before it is served.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Thea stooped and raked together the little pile of pins, swinging the mass of hair over her shoulder. Pretty mouse… What is this? Is he flirting because there is another man with us now? Men are so foolish like that, so possessive and territorial. Oh, Rhys.

What would he have done if she had not stepped back, if she had lifted her lips to his and claimed a kiss?

He stood when she got to her feet, but did not turn as she left the room. Thea made herself walk with dignity, not take to her heels and flee as every instinct of self-preservation screamed at her to do.

Dinner was oddly unsettling. Perhaps it was because she had never eaten with Rhys in company like this. It felt as though they were a couple entertaining a guest, and that was too close to her foolish daydreams to be comfortable. Thea compensated by paying most of her attention to Giles, on whom a rest and the attentions of the doctor had worked wonders.

No one, Thea decided as they exchanged impressions of Paris, would think he had been in an accident, hit on the head and half squashed under a stagecoach. He must be tougher than his slender frame suggested.

‘Is your post with Carstairs a permanent position, Benton?’ Rhys asked during a lull in conversation while the soup tureen was removed. He was a trifle paler than usual, and his hands were disfigured by the emerging bruises, but otherwise he seemed recovered. Perhaps she was imagining the strange watchfulness in his demeanour.

‘Yes, to my great good fortune. I spent some time assisting him last year, so he knows I will suit.’ Giles passed Thea the butter.

‘He will be an influential patron. Do you have ambitions in politics yourself?’

‘I hope for a seat in Parliament in a year or two, if I can convince his lordship and the party that I would be an asset. As you know yourself—’

‘Oh, let us not discuss me.’ Thea could have sworn Rhys threw Giles a warning glance. What was that about? ‘And you will reside in the household?’

Thea shook her head slightly, but Rhys did not seem to notice. Really, he was interrogating poor Giles as though interviewing him for a position!

‘I have my own small town house, although Lady Carstairs has made a suite available for me in both the town house and at their country seat.’

‘How wonderful that both Lord and Lady Carstairs have such similar interests,’ Thea remarked before Rhys could enquire how much Giles was being paid or something equally intrusive. ‘So many couples in society appear to be completely distanced from each other.’

‘And that is a bad thing?’ Rhys enquired. ‘Most marriages are ones of convenience, not of shared interests. Or passions,’ he added sardonically. ‘I would not expect a wife to want to live in my pocket.’

‘I do not agree,’ Thea retorted. ‘That is another reason why I will not marry without lo—without affection. Do you not agree, Giles?’

‘I am completely in accord with you, Althea. Take the question of prison reform, which greatly interests Lady Carstairs…’

Ten minutes later, when the servants came in to clear for dessert, Thea realised they had been in earnest dialogue the entire time. Giles had tried to draw Rhys in from time to time, but, after a few near snubs, had apparently accepted that he did not want to talk about social policy.

Guiltily she glanced across at Rhys and caught him with a look almost of approval on his face. It was odd, because Rhys must be completely bored by the conversation. As soon as he saw her watching him he raised a brow and assumed such an expression of innocence that she almost burst out laughing.

He was up to something, the rogue—she remembered that look all too well. But what could he be plotting? A mystery. She contented herself with giving Rhys a reproving shake of the head. ‘Is there any shopping we can do for you tomorrow? Giles and I intend to visit the cathedral and then explore the town.’

‘And the shops by the sound of it.’

‘But, Rhys, this is Lyon. Silk! Surely you do not expect me to ignore the finest silk in France, if not in Europe?’

‘I expect Benton to return virtually on his knees, staggering under the weight of your purchases.’ He addressed Giles earnestly. ‘I recommend you take at least one sturdy footman with you unless you wish to set back your recovery by days.’

‘I will follow your advice, Denham, but I confess to finding industry of any sort of interest. I intend to take notes while Lady Althea makes her purchases.’

‘I would have thought you better employed advising her on the best green to suit the colour of her eyes,’ Rhys said, surprising Thea into silence and earning a startled look from Giles.

After Rhys’s haste to reach Lyon, he had slowed their journey to what seemed to Thea to be a crawl by contrast. At first she could not understand it, but after the first day from Lyon, as they set out for Valence and she quizzed him about it, he confessed with reluctance that he was feeling sore and battered and preferred to take it easy.

‘If you did not ride, you would be more rested,’ she said, wishing she dared ask him to let her check his back, or call the doctor. This willingness to admit weakness was so unlike Rhys.

‘You want me to act as gooseberry?’ he enquired.

‘Whatever do you mean? You are most welcome to ride in the chaise! I hardly feel that I am on such terms with Giles as to lead you to think you would be intruding upon anything.’

‘Whoa!’ He held up a hand to ward off the vehemence of her protests. ‘I am not suggesting you have set up a flirtation with Benton and require a chaperon.’ He studied her face and Thea felt her colour rising under the scrutiny. ‘Hmm…on second thought, are you perhaps protesting too much?’

‘Ridiculous man,’ Thea muttered. ‘Of course I am not flirting with Giles, merely enjoying his conversation and company. I do not flirt and, even if I did, Giles is too serious for that. Thank goodness,’ she added.

Giles was indeed rather serious and, although intelligent, he lacked Rhys’s sharp wit, but she was coming to like him very much. But surely neither man thought she was falling for Giles? She shot Rhys an anxious look from beneath her lashes. How could any woman fall for Giles Benton when there was Rhys Denham riding beside their carriage? Though she could hardly put forward that argument.

‘You are blushing,’ Rhys remarked. ‘I will say no more. I have no wish to squash up in the chaise with you. The couple I was referring to are your maid and my valet—I foresee a wedding in the offing. At least, I trust one will be forthcoming.’

‘Polly and Hodge? My goodness.’ How had she not seen that developing? ‘It would probably be a good idea if they were not alone for so long, in that case.’ Hypocrite. Why can’t my maid enjoy a flirtation—it is what I want for myself after all. Flirtation and rather more. But how reliable was Hodge where women were concerned?

‘You may go and chaperon them if you wish,’ Rhys said with a shrug. ‘But I prefer the fresh air. Besides, my back may be stiff, but the exercise is good for it.’

Rhys’s teasing made Thea self-conscious for a while, but Giles appeared not to find any awkwardness in being alone with her, and the unrolling countryside and the drama of the Rhone flowing beside the road were so engrossing that she forgot to be distant with him.