Prelude to Love by Joan Smith Page A

the house too was about right to have followed Elleri and herself from Tilbury. It was strange he had not known the name of the estate, if he had been Edward's friend since school days. On the other hand, he had not put himself forward; it was rather she who had sought his help. Certainly he was to be trusted, but never to the extent of knowing her true mission. He would remain till she was rid of Kiley, then she would reconsider the matter.
     

Chapter Eight
     
    The obvious time and place to be rid of Kiley was at their first stop, and Vanessa cudgeled her brains to think of some manner to do so. She must pretend she trusted him, invent a good story to make him think she had come to mistrust Carlisle. She would say her father had warned her in particular against a gentleman who bore some peculiar physical characteristic. She rapidly scanned her brief acquaintance with Carlisle for such an oddity—something small enough to have escaped early detection. She remembered having noticed the night before that he had a scar on his left hand, a white half-moon on the knuckle of the index finger. She would claim she did not notice it till that very morning.
    Next she must invent a way to send Kiley on some errand that would take at least an hour, to give her time to evade him. This proved extremely difficult to do. She was coming to know Kiley well enough to realize he would not easily be fooled. Perhaps she could claim she was ill, and ask him to go for a doctor.... If she could assume a credible pallor, he would not suspect her of planning to flee.
    "Auntie, do you have your talcum powder in that little night bag you carry?" she asked suddenly.
    "To be sure, I have. I never travel without it. I also have my bottle of Gowland's lotion here, and rice powder and rouge—not that I ever use it! Well, occasionally when traveling. We ancients fade away to a ghost when we are on the road, especially when we cannot sleep." Elleri glanced to her niece. "Do you know, Nessa, I think you would be wise to use a daub of rouge this morning. I would not suggest it at home, but among strangers it cannot matter. You look very peaky. It would be going without proper sleep and breakfast that has done it. One of those gentlemen is not a spy, and they are both very elegant. There is no point wasting a chance to nab the respectable one. Here, let me put just a tiny daub of this rouge on your cheeks."
    "No," Vanessa said, smiling. "I want to look as pale as possible."
    "Yes, some gentlemen do like the fragile, consumptive sort of female, but I never thought that your style in the least."
    "You misunderstood. I am about to be ill."
    "What a pity! I hope you are not going to cast up your accounts. There is nothing so unromantic. It would be enough to turn off a hardened rake. It is bound to give them both a disgust of you. But even if you are, you should still use the rouge."
    Vanessa outlined her scheme, patting the talcum on her cheeks as she spoke. Her aunt listened, doubtful. "That is all very well, but what if Kiley is the innocent one? Then you have turned him off, and put us in Carlisle's clutches."
    "I'll think of something to get rid of him at the next stop. I am sorry I asked him along."
    " I am sorry they are not both eligible. There is nothing like a little competition to whet a gentleman's appetite. Ah, here is Kiley pulling alongside of us now. He is definitely the more mannish of the two, but Carlisle has a more personable air."
    Vanessa put down the window and stuck her head out. "I must speak to you, Colonel Landon," she said eagerly, using his preferred name, the one under which he was assumed to be innocent.
    He regarded her with suspicion, then noticed she was looking very pale. "What is it?" he asked.
    "It is Mr. Carlisle. I have just noticed—remembered—that is. Papa mentioned a man around Hastings whom he believed to be a French spy, and I now suspect Carlisle is the man."
    Speech was difficult, between the rattle and dust from