Prelude to Love by Joan Smith Page B

the wheels and Landon's being mounted, but she outlined the story she had invented, and looked at him for signs of having swallowed it.
    “Odd your father didn't mention this scar to me," he pointed out.
    This seemed an auspicious moment to put her hand to her brow and claim a bout of nausea.
    "It is having set out without anything to eat. We'll stop at the first place for something. Can you hold on for a mile or so?" he asked. She nodded her head. "Good. Keep your window open and take deep gulps of air. If you are going to be sick, let me know. I'll keep a sharp eye on you, and signal the groom to pull over."
    She leaned back against the seat, while he rode alongside them for a few moments. After a while he said, "I'm going to canter ahead and see if there's anywhere close by we can stop. Are you all right for the moment?"
    She nodded her head, weakly, like an invalid. He was soon back, announcing they were approaching a small hostel where they would stop. This met with her grateful approval. She summoned her thespian powers for the next step. She was happy it was not a village, but only a small wayside inn that tended to travelers. There would not be a doctor in the immediate vicinity.
    Carlisle was not far behind them, but it was Landon who opened the carriage for the ladies to descend. Elleri had been given orders to inform Carlisle of the plan; she waited for him, while Landon helped Vanessa into the inn. She leaned heavily on his arm, allowing an occasional low moan to escape her lips.
    "Buck up; you'll soon feel better," he encouraged, helping her gently up the steps to the door. He explained to the proprietress that the lady was unwell, and was shown into the private parlor, boasting a settee as well as table and chairs. "Lie down here till you feel more the thing," he suggested, with every appearance of genuine concern. "Where is your companion? Has she a vinaigrette?"
    Elleri was still with Carlisle, explaining in her own lengthy fashion what was afoot.
    "She has one with her. She'll be here presently," Vanessa said. "Before they come, Colonel, I must speak to you in private."
    He went down on one knee beside the settee, examining her intently with those dark eyes. She was actually pale, and with a fairly sleepless night, had some dark circles under her eyes, so that her illness was possible to believe. "I don't understand your father sending you on such a mission as this," he said harshly.
    She raised a hand to object. He immediately took it in his. "Never mind. We'll make it. I am happy you have come to trust me, Miss Bradford. You must realize the danger now, with Carlisle knowing where you are going."
    "Did he tell you we are going to Ipswich?" she asked, ready to brain Carlisle for his loose tongue.
    "No, of course not. Your father told me," he assured her, but his original thought was that they were headed to London.
    She nodded, as though accepting this patent lie. "I know what is on your mind," he said, nodding with a rueful smile. "When I spoke of accompanying you to London, I revealed my own plan. I convinced Colonel Bradford London was the proper destination for your news. Is that why you have mistrusted me all this While?"
    "Yes, of course," she said, with an apologetic glance up from under her lashes. This gave her an excellent excuse to now place her apparent confidence in him. He looked immeasurably relieved.
    "What a foolish misunderstanding! All my fault too," he said, swift to exculpate. "Poor girl, what a dither I put you in. No wonder you latched onto any help that offered."
    "Now I have a favor to ask you, Colonel," she said, smiling shyly. "Will you help me to be rid of Carlisle? It was shatter-brained of me to have trusted him."
    "One never looks for both brains and beauty in a lady," he said gallantly. "It is my job to get rid of him. Don't worry about that." There was some grim satisfaction in his statement. Vanessa had a fearful premonition that he was very well able to do it, too.
    "How