she’d taken the key out of the door. His instincts told him she was no longer in the house. Experience told him she had left through the front door. If she had escaped via the window, she would have left the key in the door.
“Shall I barge the door, my lord?”
“No, Haines, that won’t be necessary,” Sebastian said abruptly, as he stood and straightened his coat. “I believe Miss Beaufort has already vacated her room. But you may ask Mrs. Cox for the spare key.”
“Beg your pardon, my lord, but this is my fault,” Haines said standing with his shoulders slumped forward. “I’ve never known anyone as angry as Miss Beaufort when you left her in the carriage,” he said scratching his head. “But she seemed happy when we arrived.”
Of course she was bloody happy, Sebastian thought, she had probably been planning her escape from the moment she knew he was not following behind. Thank goodness he had the necklace else he doubted he would see her again. He patted his chest to make sure it was still in his pocket and Miss Beaufort didn’t know of a conjurer’s trick to spirit it away.
Sebastian did not know what bothered him most. The fact Miss Beaufort was now wandering around town dressed in those blasted breeches for the entire world to see, or that she seemed to have an innate ability of making him look like a complete idiot.
“I’m afraid the blame rests firmly at my door, no pun intended,” Sebastian replied. “I foolishly assumed Miss Beaufort would seek my counsel before tearing off around town.” He was going to have to put an end to this cat and mouse game they played.
Haines cleared his throat. “When you give Haines a job to do, my lord, he always does his best. Never let it be said Haines don’t do his duty,” the coachman proclaimed, as though reapplying for his position. “It’s just the lady has a look about her, a way of … well, let’s just say she was mighty cheerful for someone about to bolt.”
Sebastian felt sorry for the man. “Miss Beaufort is an unusual lady, Haines. I fear I will never quite understand her motivations or her impulsiveness. I suppose you cannot attempt to cage a tiger and expect it will not try to bite you.” He smiled, remembering Miss Beaufort’s prince and mouse story and her threat to gobble him up.
“I can’t say I know much about tigers, my lord,” Haines replied, scratching the top of his head again. “But I know what it’s like to catch a butterfly, to trap it in a glass and watch it struggle to break free, to watch it grow tired and flutter to the bottom, all hopeless an’ lost.”
“You’re suggesting Miss Beaufort is struggling to be free of the glass.” Sebastian leaned back against the jamb and folded his arms across his chest. “I did not know you were so perceptive, Haines.”
“Beg your pardon, but there’s not much else to do atop a carriage all day long, besides think.”
“Indeed,” Sebastian replied arching a brow with curious interest.
Haines opened his mouth but then snapped it shut.
“Please, continue,” Sebastian said. Any information to aid him in understanding Miss Beaufort’s psyche was valuable indeed. “I feel I am in need of enlightenment and I find your analogy quite refreshing.”
Haines shuffled on the spot. “Well, you take Miss Amy,” he continued a little cautiously. “There’d be those who’d be annoyed by her constant chattering. Some might say no good can come from such foolish talk.”
“And you, what would you say, Haines?”
The corners of Sebastian’s mouth curved into the beginnings of a smile, for he already knew the answer.
“Well, my lord,” Haines began. “I’d say that when she speaks the whole world lights up and if it means my ears have to take a bashing, seems like a fair trade to me.”
Sebastian’s thoughts were drawn back to Miss Beaufort. He admired her tenacity, her courage. Yet the qualities that intrigued him the most were the qualities he tried to