The Perfect Arrangement (The Not So Saintly Sisters #4) - Annabelle Anders Page 0,16

hat, placed it on a metal hook which seemed to have been designed for precisely that purpose.

“It’s not too late to return to your mother’s home, Lillian. Are you certain you wish to go through with this?” He spoke softly, without a hint of judgement.

“Are you?”

He nodded, looking grim.

“Then I am too.”

Becky made a mournful sound but then turned to stare out the window.

With hardly so much as a hitch, the carriage rolled forward, taking her away from her mother’s home and toward the unknown—and more importantly, what she hoped would turn out to be the best decision she’d ever made.

* * *

“When you didn’t arrive as we initially agreed upon, I believed you had changed your mind.” He spoke softly, as Becky seemed to have fallen asleep before they’d hardly driven out of Mayfair. “Although, I could not hold it against you.”

Sunlight shone through the window behind him, allowing her not much more to study but his profile. The lines of his face were even and strong, his jaw, chiseled and his chin firm. “I woke up early enough and didn’t think I had any reason to hurry… but then all of a sudden, time got away from us.” And then she wondered, “Would that have bothered you if I had? Would you have been disappointed?”

He turned his body on the bench meeting her gaze and frowned. “You are more beautiful than I remembered.” The compliment surprised her. He didn’t wait for her response but answered her question. “And yes, I would have been disappointed. But I could hardly blame you. And of course, I would not wish for you to go through with it if you had misgivings.”

His spectacles only partially hid his eyes. He appeared tired and one of his hands was absentmindedly stroking the wiry looking fur on the back of Horace’s neck.

“I had some misgivings.” She smiled. “But I did not change my mind.”

Christian’s rich chestnut hair was fashionably combed and his face freshly shaven. She rather liked how he looked in his spectacles. They gave him a scholarly look, made him appear less of a rogue. This morning his clothing was diligently pressed, his shoes shined to a high polish, and his cravat tied into something many might consider a work of art.

“You are lovely—“ He cleared his throat. He’d been studying her as well. “I hardly recognized you when you came into view.”

Today she was not wearing a floppy bonnet or one of her oldest gowns. In fact, although dressed for travel, she’d wanted to appear pretty and had changed three times before settling on her mint muslin daydress with embroidered butterflies around the bodice and hem. And her bonnet was more for decoration than protection from the sun, allowing a few curls to dangle along her face.

“Thank you. You as well. I mean. Your clothes—“

The smile he gave her was more genuine than any she’d seen from him yet that morning. “I’m surprised you took me seriously yesterday. When I returned above stairs, my valet was most disapproving. And thank you.”

Lillian laughed nervously and would have asked considerably more questions of him if Becky wasn’t seated beside her. She wouldn’t put it past her maid to feign sleep in order to eavesdrop on the conversation.

His leg began jumping and she couldn’t help but drop her gaze toward it meaningfully.

“This is a rather unusual situation; would you not agree?” she asked.

His eyes went to his knee as well and the jumping stopped. “My apologies. My sister complains that it is my most annoying habit.” He met her eyes again. “It is most unusual indeed.” His brows rose. “Did you have a chance to break your fast? I have rations tucked under the seat somewhere…” He leaned forward and withdrew a container, the size of her valise, that matched the interior of the carriage.

“I was too nervous to even consider it.”

“I thought this a particularly clever feature…” He tugged at small knob on the wall and a table opened to lay flat between them.

“The carriage is new then?”

He looked up momentarily, catching her gaze over his spectacle lenses. “Er… yesterday afternoon.”

For their journey…

Lillian couldn’t help but feel warmed by such a gesture. This man was a good man. She was certain of it.

He, however, was quite interested in the engineering of the picnic basket contraption. “Scones? And this insulated bottle ought to have kept the tea from getting too cold.”

Becky perked up immediately and between the three of them, at least partially due to