But aside from having her daughter in her life, finally after so many years, the greatest gift she had been given was the freedom to be herself. No more hiding behind fake names, no more concealing her identity to avoid her father or William Satterly, no more pretending to be someone else so that she could be close enough to Lillian to see a glimpse of her. The truth, as the saying went, would set her free. Or possibly see her in Bedlam. “I cannot. I have no notion of who he is… or was.”
Chapter Seven
Burney perched on the back of the cabriolet, hanging on next to the driver. He hadn’t anticipated that they would both display such shocking candor in discussing him. It was a terrible turn of events. To that end, he had to get them someplace where they couldn’t ask anyone else who he had been in life. It would simply confuse the issue and prevent them from doing what they needed to do… fall in love.
And so to that end, Burney did one of the things that was most difficult for a spirit. He manipulated the physical world. The cabriolet lurched left in spite of everything the driver attempted to do to right it. The vehicle veered from the path, the wheel dipping into a deep rut beside the pebbled lane. The snap of it was audible as was Miss Burkhart’s scream.
It wasn’t a crash, not in the traditional sense of the word. But the cabriolet, at the end of it, was utterly useless to them for the time being. Burney observed Lord Whittendon helping Miss Burkhart from the listing vehicle.
“I’m so terribly sorry, my lord,” the driver said. “I don’t know how it happened. I did everything I could to right it, but it was like something just jerked the reins right out of my hands!”
A knowing look passed between Miss Burkhart and the marquess before the marquess replied, “It’s fine. I know you did. Accidents happen, Jones. I will escort Miss Burkhart back to the Dowager Duchess of Templeton’s home while you see to getting this repaired. Get the horse home and see about replacing that wheel.”
“Yes, my lord. Thank you, my lord,” the driver said, clearly thankful for not being sacked on the spot.
“Miss Burkhart, if we exit over there, we can go directly up Jermyn Street to St. James’s Place and get you back home.”
Burney smiled. It was going as planned. He had a location in mind. It would be the perfect place for them to find themselves free of any interruptions or distractions. He needed somewhere that they were forced to be in close proximity to one another with no foreseeable exit.
Whistling a jaunty tune, Burney left them for just a moment to put the other portion of his plan in place. That meant heading to White’s and locating William Satterly.
It hadn’t escaped Oliver’s notice that the driver of the cabriolet had only lost control when they were discussing Burney. He had the sneaking suspicion that their other-worldly acquaintance had something to do with that. The question of why… well, that was something he simply could not answer.
Still, he didn’t mind the setback. Having a stroll with her, where they were alone and could speak freely, gave him the opportunity to know her better and also to extend the time he could spend in her presence. As they walked along the street, he paused before a store window. There were various trinkets on display. Combs and fripperies that women enjoyed.
“That would be lovely in your hair,” he said, pointing to an enameled hair comb.
“It is very pretty, but very dear,” she stated, as if that were the end of it.
Making a note to return and purchase it for her when he could, Oliver turned to move further down street. He hadn’t taken another step before he felt Miss Burkhart stiffen at his side. Her entire demeanor changed with such rapidity that he thought, at first, she might be in pain, but then he recognized it. Fear. She was afraid.
Tension emanated from her—anger, that terror he sensed in her, and something else that he couldn’t quite name all seemed to coalesce inside her. Then she was grasping his arm and moving toward a small entryway. It was a building undergoing serious renovations, the windows covered with heavy boards and a thick chain on the door.
“We have to hide,” she said, the urgency of her voice undeniable.
“Why?”
“Because… well, it doesn’t matter why!” she