A Lady by Midnight (Spindle Cove #3)

A figure darted out from the shadows, blanketing her with an immense, dark cloak. The heavy fabric suffocated Kate and she flailed instinctively. She felt attacked.

Oh, what an irony it would be if not twenty minutes after refusing Thorne’s protection, she were kidnapped and held for ransom. He might finally laugh at that.

“Stop struggling,” a voice told her. “Almost have it . . .”

Kate’s head finally emerged through the top of the cloak. She could breathe again. And see.

“Harry?” Stunned, she blinked at the beautiful, unconventional woman she’d come to think of as a cousin.

Harry put her arm around Kate, steering her back onto the street.

“Oh, Miss Taylor!” she proclaimed loudly. “What a lovely walk we’ve had this morning. So invigorating, marching all over the Downlands. The dog enjoyed it, too.”

“What on earth are you talking of?” Kate whispered.

“Just play along,” Harry murmured back, draping the cloak about Kate’s shoulders. “Don’t worry. Unless they see you’re wearing yesterday’s gown, no one will even suspect.”

“No one will suspect what?”

Harry lifted her voice as they neared the Queen’s Ruby entrance. “Really, what a lovely ramble. The weather’s glorious. If I were the sort to gather flowers, I should have plucked dozens.”

As they entered the rooming house, Mrs. Nichols came to greet them. The older woman wore an expression of true concern.

“Oh, Miss Taylor. How good to see you this morning. Are you feeling better, dear?”

Kate stammered. “I—I . . .”

“Of course she’s feeling better.” Harry plucked Badger into her arms. “Just look at those roses on her cheeks. I’ve always said, there’s nothing that a good brisk walk through open country can’t cure.”

Before Kate could even begin to object, a smiling Harry nudged her toward the staircase.

“We’ll just go freshen up for breakfast, Mrs. Nichols. I do hope we’ll be treated to some of your delicious currant bread this morning.”

When they reached the top of the stairs, Harry steered them both to Kate’s bedchamber. She followed Kate inside, set the puppy loose, and flopped dramatically against the closed door.

“There now.” She gave Kate a conspiratorial grin. “That was satisfying. And just as I told you, no one suspects a thing.”

“I don’t understand.” Kate sank onto the edge of her narrow bed. Hers was a small bedchamber, tucked under a far corner of the eaves. The bigger rooms were reserved for the visiting ladies with larger wardrobes and more accommodating purses.

“I lied for you, of course,” Harry said. “I used to do it for Calista all the time. It was obvious enough why neither you nor Thorne showed up at the tavern last night. So when someone remarked on your absence, I volunteered to go check. I told everyone you were wretchedly ill and resting in your room. I even went to the trouble of waking Mrs. Nichols for a headache powder.” Her lips curved in a smug smile. “I’m very good at these things.”

“Evidently,” Kate said. Her head was spinning.

“I must say, it almost makes me jealous. When two women want to be alone, the sneaking around is far too easy.” She came to sit near Kate on the bed. “I do hope you enjoyed your night. But next time, be a dear and give me some advance warning?”

“Oh, Harry.” Kate let her head drop into her hands. She knew her cousin’s interference was well-meant. But it was poorly timed. Just when she’d vowed to make a clean breast of things. “It’s not at all how you think.”

“You don’t have to make excuses to me, Kate. Of all people, I’m not going to judge.”

“I know. But I’m being truthful. I swear, nothing like that happened. In fact—” She broke off, overwhelmed.

Harry clucked her tongue and patted Kate’s shoulder. “Did you and Corporal Thorne have a row? Tell me what the scoundrel did. Don’t worry, you can abuse him to me thoroughly. When you two make things right again, I’ll never let on. I say the most horrid things about Ames when I’m vexed.”

“I don’t think this will ever be made right.” Kate raised her head. “I ended the engagement.”

“Oh.” Harry moved closer and put her arm around Kate’s shoulders. “Oh, no. I’m so sorry.”

“Are you? I didn’t think any of you liked him.”

“Well, no. But you liked him, so we were trying our best.”

Kate smiled, even as tears welled in her eyes.

Harry handed her a handkerchief from her waistcoat pocket. In her typical style, the linen square was gentlemanly—unadorned with lace or fancy monograms.

Kate’s heart twisted as she traced the neatly hemmed border of the handkerchief. She hated to think their family bond might all be a lie, a misunderstanding.

Harry asked, “You didn’t break off with Thorne for our sakes, did you?”