She had hesitated even then for she had been afraid of setting out on her own. It had quickly become clear that she had no one she could really trust, no one who could go against Augusta anyway. Only her father’s man of business could still be trusted but she knew he would have done all he could to stop her. Every other person with any power who had been close to her father or worked with him had fallen away over the last year. That had been strange but she had always assumed it had just been because they had all been getting older and traveled less. Now she began to think her aunt had been slowly but surely isolating them. Why the woman would do such a thing was the question, and none of the answers Primrose came up with were good ones.
Shaking off her grief and pulling free of her meandering thoughts, Primrose quickly braided her hair and secured it with a ribbon. Bened had said he would get them a meal and a private parlor and she had already left him waiting on her for too long. Her stomach rumbled to remind her of how long it had been since she had eaten so she hurried out of the room.
With every step she took, Primrose plotted out what she would say to the man. She needed to thank him for his help and then send him on his way without offering any offense. The man had been all that was kind, assisting her when she needed it and clearly prepared to keep doing so. It was tempting to let him continue as she had no wish to keep traveling around alone searching for her brother, an adventure fraught with danger. She would not drag Sir Bened into the middle of it and put him in danger as well. There was also the fact that he was really a stranger to her and every female was told from a very young age that she should beware of any strange men. Before she had a chance to even ask the maid where Bened was, the young woman waved Primrose to the battered door from near the foot of the stairs.
The scent of a rich stew and warm bread scattered her thoughts as she entered the private parlor. Primrose clapped a hand over her stomach when it roared its approval. Sir Bened stood up, pulled out a chair for her, and Primrose was quick to sit down. The maid hurried in with more stew and bread and Primrose silently cursed when her stomach rumbled again. She ordered mulled cider for her drink and turned her full attention on her meal.
“This is very good,” she said when they were alone again after the maid brought her cider. “Thank you.”
“You are welcome.” He pushed aside his empty bowl and sipped his ale. “’Tis but mutton stew.”
“True, but it is hot, filling, and done very well.”
“What are your plans for the morrow? Do you have a destination set?”
Primrose stuffed some stew in her mouth to smother the curse she wanted to spit out. The man was evidently going to ask her every question she had hoped he would not ask. She had to find her brother but truly had no plan beyond that. Even she knew that would sound foolish and reckless. It was certainly the latter but desperation drove her. Since she did not want to tell him the cause of that desperation, she feared he would think her a witless fool.
“I am following the sightings of my brother,” she finally said.
Bened sat back in his chair and studied her as he sipped his ale. He had not known her long at all but, despite the way they had met and what she was doing, he had talked with her enough to know she was not lacking in wits. Just following a trail marked by people who had caught sight of her brother, however, was an idiotic plan. The way she was avoiding meeting his gaze told him she was hiding something. He suspected it was all the true reasons she was riding around the countryside on her own in a desperate attempt to find her sibling.
For a moment he wondered if he should even push for the full truth, getting himself more involved than he was now. His family had stumbled into a lot of trouble and danger in the past few years, mostly when trying to help someone else. This business with Miss Primrose carried the same feel. She hid it well but he could sense her desperation, her worry and fear. The part of him that reacted to such emotions was reaching out to her to calm and soothe. If he did stay with her, offer her his help, he was going to have to learn to rein it in or he would exhaust himself before they ever found her brother.
He watched her nervously glance his way as she helped herself to some bread, spreading a thick layer of butter on it, and he inwardly sighed. There was no chance he would be able to let her ride off alone. There were too many dangers out there for a woman alone, especially a pretty little one like her. Instinct told him he was about to step into a tangled mess but it also told him he would never rest easy again if he turned his back on her and left her alone.
“You are not doing this simply because your brother did not attend your father’s funeral.”
Primrose tried to keep her expression calm with a hint of confusion. “I do not know what you mean.”
Bened leaned forward, set his tankard down, and crossed his arms on the table, determined to get the full truth from her before they went one step further. “You are not some witless twit of a lady so cease acting like one.”
“Thank you, I think.”
“You are not one to leave hearth and home, ride out completely alone, and search the whole country for your brother in some blind, confused way.”
“I love my brother and am worried about him.”
“I am certain of that. Just as I am certain you know full well how dangerous it is to do as you have been doing. There is good reason women do not travel alone. So, tell me, what drove you from your home? What has truly set you on the road alone to seek out your brother?”
Chapter Two