matter that she’d no idea who he was and would never see him again. She was going to a pawnbroker’s, and it was too humiliating.
Unconsciously, she bit her lower lip in indecision. She tried to sound confident, but she knew she didn’t quite succeed. ‘I’m going rather far. I imagine you have better things to do.’
He seemed to sense her uncertainty. His tone brooked no refusal. ‘Actually, I have the afternoon free, and we could take my carriage. It’s just across the road.’
She turned her head. His carriage gleamed with a fresh coat of glossy green paint, and two sleek bays waited impatiently to depart. His coachman, in green livery to match, had alighted in order to confront a cart driver over some infraction. A coat of arms surmounted by an earl’s coronet decorated the carriage door.
Oh, God. He was not only handsome, but he was rich and probably titled, too.
‘Your driver is making friends, I see,’she said drily. She was now more resolved than ever that he would not come with her. She’d some pride left—not much, maybe, but enough that she didn’t want him to witness her sell the last of her valuable possessions.
He smiled again, and she wished she hadn’t attempted humor. ‘McGrath loves an argument. If we linger much longer, they’ll be asking us to second them at dawn. Shall we go?’ He held out his arm.
She stared at it for a second before simply starting to walk again, carrying on in the same direction. The pawnbroker’s shouldn’t be much further now, and she needed to get rid of him quickly. ‘I think that would be unwise. I thank you for your help, but I no longer require it.’
He fell in beside her, easily keeping pace with her long strides. ‘I can perfectly well understand your reluctance to ride in my carriage, but I assure you it would be wiser than wandering around here on foot. We’ll probably both be robbed.’
‘You needn’t come with me,’ she said stiffly.
He sighed. ‘Much as I’m tempted to leave you here, I’m afraid my conscience won’t allow it.’
She kept walking, looking straight ahead. She knew he was watching her face, probably hoping that his mild statement would elicit some reaction: eyes widened in shock, maybe even a verbal rebuke. She refused to indulge him.
‘You’re right to be suspicious, of course,’ he continued after a few seconds of silence. ‘I wouldn’t trust anyone I met wandering around here.’
‘So why are you wandering around here?’ She knew she sounded accusatory, but, well, what was someone like him doing there, and why had he decided to take an interest in her? Her arm was starting to ache from the weight of her bag, and he’d made no sign of leaving. With an annoyed sigh, she placed the bag on the ground and then crossed her arms over her chest, waiting impatiently for his answer.
He looked as if he found her irritation comical. ‘I assure you, I wasn’t. I was just passing through on my way back from the country when I saw you about to be robbed. Could hardly just stand by and watch.’
‘Oh.’ She picked up the bag and started walking again, now feeling rather guilty for her curt behaviour. He was infuriating, but she’d be far worse off if not for his intervention. ‘I…I am grateful that you stopped that man. I’m sorry if I’ve seemed rude, but I really will be all right on my own. I don’t want to take up any more of your time.’
He nodded, but otherwise seemed to disregard her words. He walked along beside her quietly for a few seconds before offering, ‘I’m William Stanton, by the by. Earl of Lennox, actually, but you needn’t m’lord me.’
‘I won’t.’
She hoped she sounded as unimpressed as she’d intended, but her impertinence seemed only to amuse him. Until a few years ago, she wouldn’t have felt so intimidated by his title. All right, so she’d never been nearly as grand as an earl—quite a few stations in life separated them. But she’d had a bit of money once, and what had seemed to be a respectable family, too. She’d grown up in a rambling brick house draped in wisteria and surrounded by neat gravel paths and herb gardens. She’d never been fashionable—the plain clothes she wore now represented the sort of sensible attire she’d worn her whole life. However, they were well made and reasonably expensive. She’d never had reason to be ashamed of her status.
Only things had changed. The gardens had been replaced by a squalid street, and her unfashionable dresses had become both unfashionable and worn. The one she wore now was several seasons old and many times mended.
‘You might introduce yourself,’ he said, his gaze wandering over her face. ‘It’s your turn.’
She stopped walking to answer him, feeling depressed and defeated. ‘Isabelle Thomas.’
‘How do you do, Miss Thomas. Let me carry your bag.’
‘No, thank you.’
Finally, she’d managed to provoke him. He actually sounded offended. ‘I assure you I’ve no interest in stealing from you. It’s heavy.’
‘No.’ Her grip tightened.
He sighed loudly and then, after a moment’s consideration, began fiddling with his waistcoat.
She turned her head to the side to stare at him, feeling mildly alarmed. ‘What are you doing?’
He made a face at her. ‘My, but you’re suspicious. I’m removing my watch.’
‘Why?’
‘Because we’re going to trade. I will carry your bag, Miss Thomas, and you will carry my watch. So you can rest assured I won’t abscond with your possessions.’ He held it out to her, but when she didn’t immediately accept it he took her hand in his, placed the watch on her palm, and then closed her fist around it. ‘Now, I’ll have your bag.’
She saw no reasonable argument against accepting his offer, but she still didn’t want him to come with her. ‘You barely know me, sir,’she pointed out. ‘I might run off with it.’
‘Then I will catch you. I don’t recommend you test my word.’
She didn’t doubt him, and, seeing no alternative, handed him her bag. Her arm cried out in relief, and she tucked the watch into her pocket. She wouldn’t have dreamed of running off with it anyway, not just because she believed his threat, but also because that would be stealing. She hadn’t yet stooped to that level.
‘I wouldn’t take your watch, you know,’she said quietly as they started walking again. ‘I’m not a thief.’
‘I’m pleased to hear it. What’s in this bag? Stones?’
She paled. ‘If you’re going to complain—’
‘I’m not complaining.’
‘Don’t open it.’
‘I won’t,’ he replied grumpily. ‘Lead the way, Miss Thomas.’
She looked nervously up the street, hoping she remembered Samuel’s directions. She’d written them down and had studied them that morning, but examining them in public would have made her look lost
