the kitten? You’ll soon tire of her in Edinburgh, I imagine,” Rafe said.
“Possibly,” Brodie said.
“No doubt she sees all this as some game.”
“Aye. She’s playing a game with me, I’m sure of it. So sweet and blushing like a wee bride, but damned if it isna attractive.”
Rafe laughed. “She has you captivated already? A crafty creature indeed.”
Lydia, her face flaming at being discussed so boldly by two men who didn’t even know her, coughed politely as she entered the room.
“Good morning.” Rafe bowed his head as he and Brodie stood. At least they had enough manners between them to know to rise when she came into a room.
“Good morning.” Lydia glanced at the sideboard laden with chafing dishes, her stomach growling. She hadn’t eaten a thing since yesterday afternoon at the Pump Room.
“Please, help yourself,” Rafe insisted.
“Thank you, Mr. Lennox.” She collected a plate from the table and served herself a breakfast of kippers, hard-boiled eggs, and buttered toast.
When she was ready to sit down, Brodie pulled her chair back and pushed her in. Again, it was a gentlemanly act, so out of place after he had brought her here against her will.
“No cries of innocence this morning?” Brodie asked.
“I have told you the truth a number of times already,” Lydia said evenly. “Continuing to do so will not change a stubborn mind that’s already made up. Instead, I will make do the best I can until you are willing to listen to reason.”
“Then you’re in for a long wait, lass,” Brodie said, his tone a little curt. “Eat quickly if you can. We are to leave once you’ve finished.”
Rafe lounged in his seat, perusing a paper, idly turning the pages as though he wasn’t really reading. Every now and then his gaze would drift lazily between her and Brodie, his lips curved as though he was resisting the urge to smile at some private joke.
The devil take handsome men! Lydia decided she would ignore them both while she had her breakfast.
Lydia drank a cup of hot chocolate, hastily ate her breakfast, and then followed the gentlemen into the hall.
“Where are we bound?” she asked. She’d heard mention of Edinburgh twice now, but she wasn’t quite sure if she believed that or not.
“Scotland,” Brodie replied.
“Oh . . .” They really were headed to Edinburgh. She’d never been outside of England before.
Rafe’s coach was already waiting for them, and she was handed up into it by Brodie. Thankfully, the coach was designed for long travel, with comfortable seats and a fair amount of cushions.
A footman loaded their luggage at the back, while their two valets assisted them before climbing on top of the coach into the seats above. Brodie and Rafe joined Lydia inside the coach. She couldn’t help but wonder how they were to pass the time during the journey, but Brodie produced a small pile of books as one of the last things loaded inside.
“Oh, might I trouble you for a book, Mr. Kincade?” she asked, mindful to keep her tone polite and hopeful. “Otherwise, I might tire you with protestations of my innocence.” This came out a little more sarcastic than she wished it to, but the man had a way of trying her patience.
He scowled at her, but after a second he handed her a book. The spine of the brown leather volume read Park’s Travels in Africa.
“Park? Who is Park?” she asked as she examined the title page. The author seemed to be a man named Mungo Park.
“’Tis a biography of sorts,” Brodie explained. “The man ventured into the heart of Africa and wrote about his adventures and discoveries.”
“Oh, thank you.” Lydia turned the page to see an engraved drawing of a very attractive young man in a powdered wig. She settled in to read Mr. Park’s story and was lost for a few hours in his retelling of his visit to Africa and what he thought of the lands, languages, and the lives of the inhabitants.
At their first stop, Lydia was escorted by Brodie into the coaching inn, where she could use the facilities and the men could see to acquiring a bit of food. Rafe caught the eye of a pretty barmaid and took the girl by the hand, leading her upstairs. They were absent an hour, and when Lydia realized what they must be up to, she blushed wildly.
“Pretending again?” Brodie asked. “I admit, I am curious—how can a woman so knowledgeable of men and their needs conjure a blush like that?”