A Bride for the Prizefighter - Alice Coldbreath Page 0,50
how she had willfully misled everyone earlier. For an instant, she remembered how he had referred to her as his woman, and the color in her cheeks deepened. She couldn’t focus on that right now. She needed to sort out this situation with Cecily.
A quick scout around downstairs for Nye was fruitless, and Mina deduced he must be in the public bar. She would have to use strategy, she thought with determination, as he had expressly forbidden her from entering the taproom. Thoughtfully, she took up the hurricane lamp from the hall and carried it out of the front door and into the yard outside.
Pausing there a moment, she lifted it above her head and then slowly made her way across the courtyard in the direction of the stables, giving everyone plenty of time to spot her out of the window. Sure enough, she had only just reached the stable entrance when she heard the door of the inn wrenched open and a hurried step on the cobbles.
Concealing her smile of triumph, she dodged into the stable and then turned to calmly face her pursuer. Sure enough, it was Nye, a thunderous frown on his face.
“What the hell are you doing out here?” he demanded as soon as he’d swung inside.
“Ah good, there you are,” she greeted him briskly. “I need your help with a matter concerning an ex-pupil of mine.”
He stared at her. “What?”
“I need to get her back to a place called Upton-Gadsby that’s at least a forty minutes from here if I can take Cecily’s word,” she explained. “It’s a matter of the utmost urgency.”
“Back to?” he repeated blankly.
“Yes. She’s here and she needs to be there.”
“Well, what the hell is she doing here?” he demanded, his voice rising with ire.
“I’m afraid there was something of a misunderstanding,” Mina said evasively.
His gaze narrowed. “Such as?”
“Can we not focus on that right now? I really do need to get her home post-haste, or she will face some rather dire repercussions.”
He huffed out a frustrated breath. “You always talk like that?” he asked.
“Like what?”
He shrugged. “I’ve not got much book-learning,” he said cryptically.
“Oh,” Mina paused. “You seem to follow my meaning just fine,” she said a trifle awkwardly. After all, would it not be a far worse thing if she talked down to him?
He shot her another straight look. “Upton-Gadsby?”
“Yes,” she agreed. “Do you know it?” He gave a short nod. “Do you have a conveyance, or could you get a hold of one?” She hesitated. “I could pay.” He lifted a brow at that. “It seems I still have a half-sovereign at my disposal,” she added boldly.
He gave no response to that, just stared into space a moment. “So, this solves the mystery of why you were accosted,” he commented dryly.
“Well, it never really made sense that I would be mistaken for a doxy,” Mina pointed out.
He narrowed his eyes at her before coming to a swift decision. “Bring her here in ten minutes.”
Mina breathed a sigh of relief. “I will need to go with her for a chaperone,” she said apologetically. “Her guardian would not be pleased if she turned up alone.”
“Her guardian?”
“Sir Matthew Carswell. He used to be a patron of my father’s school.”
Nye looked up quickly. “Carswell?”
“Yes. You have heard of him?”
Nye’s gaze fell. “I believe he’s a Justice of the Peace,” he said with faint scorn. “And keen on sending people to the Assizes. You know him, then?”
“Not well,” Mina responded quickly, seeing the tension in his frame for all he tried to hide it. “As soon as our school hit some difficulties, he withdrew his sponsorship.”
“So then, you owe him nothing.”
Mina’s chin rose. “I’m not doing it for him, but for Cecily.”
Nye seemed to ponder on this for a moment, as he looked at her with open speculation. “Very well,” he said after seeming to weigh things up.
“Thank you,” she said with feeling. “I really am grateful, Nye—”
“Don’t be,” he interrupted her. “I want something from you in return.”
“So long as it’s not more curtains,” she answered lightly. “Then I will most happily reciprocate. I mean,” she added hastily. “I will repay in kind.”
A grim smile flickered over his face. “I knew what you meant,” he said, then slowly held out his hand.
Mina glanced down at it a moment. Did he mean to shake? She extended her own and found it enveloped in a strong grip. She promptly exerted her own, remembering what her father had taught her about firm handshakes. His eyes