Never Turn Away (Kellington Book Six) (5 page)

That was not a good idea.  He was all too aware of
the odd twinges he’d been feeling about her.  Twinges that went beyond his
physical attraction to her.  “I would not wish to keep you out in the cold.”

“I am country-bred, Inspector.  I am used to the
cold.”

It was not lost on Joseph that despite his
misgivings, he was happy he could continue to be in her presence.  “Then by all
means, my lady, let us be off.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Joseph had asked whether she was too chilled to
accompany him.  But though the weather was quite cold, Evelyn was becoming
warmer by the minute.  How could she not be, riding next to the quiet, imposing
and devastatingly handsome Inspector?

He rode his horse well and she wondered whether it
was his natural athleticism that enabled him to do so.  For on the few times
she’d been to London she’d done no real riding to speak of.  She imagined his
work at Bow Street involved more foot chases than long gallops on a horse. Yet
he rode Rocinante as if born to it.

She thought about their outing with Kensington. 
She’d felt sorry for Joseph making his way through deep snow drifts that were
probably unfamiliar to him as a city dweller.  She’d also been impressed by how
well he’d held his tongue with Mr. Kensington.  She really should find a way to
dissuade the young man from his suit.  She’d had serious doubts about their
compatibility previously, but his shortcomings were particularly evident when
measured against Inspector Stapleton.  And Kensington’s shortcomings were
hardly just physical, though the height disparity had been rather evident. 
Kensington’s callous attitude toward hunting had sickened her and his
ineptitude with a rifle made her frightened for whomever had the misfortune to
go hunting with him in the future.

Evelyn and Joseph – she’d said his name in the
privacy of her bedchamber the night before and found it to her liking – made
their way to the village in companionable silence, until they finally reached
its center.

“Here we are,” she said.

He looked around.  “Here we are…where?”

“Caversham.”

“The outskirts?”

She laughed.  “The exact center of it, I am afraid.”

He looked around again.  “But there’s nothing here.”

“My good sir!” she playfully admonished.  “There is
the church, the tavern, the shop and the general assembly room.  The smithy is
up the road a bit and there is an inn of sorts another mile from that.  But
this is Caversham in all its glory.  What else could one wish for?”

“A town,” he said, as he dismounted

She laughed.  “Inspector, I am not bamming you.  This
is our village.  There are other towns of considerable size within a few miles
of here.  We are, after all, quite close to Oxford.  But as for Caversham, this
is the business district.  And good Mrs. Trowbridge is here to welcome you.”

Before the middle-aged woman came within earshot, Evelyn
quickly explained that Mrs. Trowbridge managed the local shop while her husband
had similar duties at the tavern across the lane.  She was also an infamous
gossip. 

“Lady Evelyn, what are you doing in town?”  Mrs.
Trowbridge may have addressed the question to Evelyn, but had eyes only for
Joseph.  There was nothing lustful in the gaze, only the appraising look
perfected by mamas in search of husbands for daughters.

“Mrs. Trowbridge, may I present Inspector Joseph
Stapleton?  He is a friend of…”  Evelyn had to suppress a gasp as Joseph
reached up and helped her dismount.  “He is a friend of the Duke of Lynwood’s.”

Mrs. Trowbridge was now even more interested in
Joseph.  “I saw the carriage come through town yesterday, of course, but the
servants at Nodgley are ever so tight-lipped about anything having to do with
the Kellingtons.  Welcome, sir.  What kind of an inspector are you?”

“A good one.”

Mrs. Trowbridge’s girlish laughter was almost
frightening in its volume.  “Sir, you are a quick wit.  But, truly, what kind
of an inspector are you and what brings you to Caversham?  Is it true his grace
has married?  I never knew why he had to look so far afield for a wife when
there were so many eligible ladies here.” 

As if on cue, both of the Trowbridge girls, Anna and
Merida, joined their mother.  They ogled Joseph as if he were a particularly
tasty dessert.  Which, Evelyn was forced to admit to herself, was how she ogled
him as well.  But certainly not in public and with such little tact. 

“I am a Bow Street Inspector on holiday in Caversham
for a few days.  And it is true that his grace has married.  He and his duchess
are on their wedding trip as we speak.”

“That is a pity,” said Mrs. Trowbridge, who quickly
added, “Not that he doesn’t deserve a nice trip, of course.  Just…it is a
pity.  Will you be attending the assembly, Inspector?  I am sure you would
enjoy it.”

“Thank you, madam, I look forward to it.”

“You must dance with my girls.  Anna is nineteen and
Merida seventeen, both nearly on the shelf.”  Her eyes widened and her hand
covered her mouth – just like the mama in the melodrama that had played
Caversham the previous year.  She turned toward Evelyn.  “No offense, dear.”

“None taken, Mrs. Trowbridge.  I am perfectly happy
not being nineteen or seventeen anymore.”

“But that is not…”  Mrs. Trowbridge stopped herself
just in time from telling Evelyn she had misunderstood the insult.  But wanting
to make the most of her opportunity, she turned back to Joseph.  “They are the
prettiest girls in the county with no shortage of dance partners, of course. 
But we shall be sure to fit you in.  There is even to be a waltz and I know
Anna….”

“I will be dancing the waltz with Lady Evelyn,” said
Joseph smoothly.  “Though I look forward to dancing with both Miss Trowbridge
and Miss Merida.”

Mrs. Trowbridge cast an irritated look at Evelyn,
before continuing to describe the upcoming assembly in such glowing terms that
she declared even those in London would regret missing it.  Evelyn heard hardly
anything the woman said, for all she could think about was that Joseph had said
they would waltz.  It might not mean he wanted to waltz with her, of course. 
It might just have been his way of escaping a waltz with either Anna or Merida
or, if their mama could somehow arrange it, both.

But she was to waltz with him.  And suddenly she
felt as anxious as a girl before her come-out ball.

Interesting, that.

She realized she should say something or they would
spend the rest of the day in the village lane, while Mrs. Trowbridge searched
for a way to have Joseph as a son-in-law. 

“Inspector Stapleton wanted to come to the village
to pick up a few items he had neglected to bring with him from London,” said
Evelyn.  “But perhaps we should come back another day.”

“Nonsense!” said Mrs. Trowbridge, as she ushered
them inside.  “You will see that my shop compares to any establishment in
London.”

Evelyn smiled at Joseph.  “I am sure you will find
it to be a unique experience.”

*                    *                    *

Joseph entered the one-room shop and stared in
amazement.  It was stocked floor to ceiling with various foodstuffs, as well as
bolts of fabric, rows of ribbons and sewing supplies.  There were bonnets
trimmed with all manner of oddities, suggesting either a terrible lack of taste
or a wonderful sense of humor.  There was a small collection of scents, though
none could be mistaken for the expensive perfumes from the
parfumeries
of London.  There were small leather goods at outrageous prices.  And there was
an apothecary station.

“I am also the village apothecary,” said Mrs.
Trowbridge, following his glance.  “Girls, why don’t you select a new ribbon
for the assembly?”

Anna and Merida seemed torn between not wanting to
desert the handsome visitor lest he make his escape and very much wanting to
pick out new ribbons.  Fashion won and they left the adults for the moment. 

Mrs. Trowbridge tapped Joseph on the arm. “Inspector,
I daresay you have heard of my special talent with elixirs.”

Joseph noticed that Evelyn suddenly froze.

“I do not believe Inspector Stapleton was looking
for an elixir. A coin purse, perhaps?”  Evelyn picked up the item nearest to
her.  It was a coin purse fashioned by hand, with a cow painted on it. 

It was hideous.

“I am sure the inspector already has a coin purse,”
said Mrs. Trowbridge.  “But he may want to try my special health elixir for
gentlemen.”

Joseph’s attention was once again drawn to Evelyn,
which wasn’t that surprising, given he’d been staring at her most of the day. 
She was now an alarming shade of red.  Had he kept her out in the cold too
long?  Was she coming down with the ague?  Perhaps Mrs. Trowbridge had some
type of tonic to help her.

“My special elixir helps a man maintain his vitality,”
said Mrs. Trowbridge, quietly enough that her daughters wouldn’t overhear.

That finally got his attention.  “My vitality?”

“Yes.  It is no secret among married couples that
sometimes men lose their…vitality as they age.”

The rest of Mrs. Trowbridge’s words were lost to
Joseph as the pieces fell into place.  Did the woman think he was impotent? 
And was that why Evelyn looked like she wanted to sink into the ground?  And
why the devil had Lynwood not warned him that, save Lady Evelyn, his neighbors
were bloody Bedlamites?

“Thank you, madam, but my vitality is in excellent
shape.”

“Are you sure, inspector?  How recently has it been
tested?”

Now Evelyn’s red color was explained.  He was
perilously close to blushing himself.  “I believe I would like to purchase that
coin purse.”

Anxious to change the subject, Evelyn wagged the
hideous thing about as if it were the crown jewels.  “This is a fine piece of
artistry.  Did Anna or Merida paint the cow?”

“That, Lady Evelyn, is not a cow.  It is my mother.”

Evelyn was silent but a moment.  “And how is Mrs.
Dorsett?  It seems like an age since she has visited.”

Mrs. Trowbridge did not seem best pleased with
Evelyn, yet somewhat graciously seized onto the subject of her mother while
Joseph overpaid for the coin purse.  By that time, the two girls had grown
tired of selecting ribbons, so he escorted Evelyn from the shop as quickly as
possible without being insufferably rude.

He was willing to settle for being rude a smallish
amount.

But finally, he and Evelyn were on their horses and
making their way back to her home.

The silence was not quite as companionable as before
and even seemed to be a bit awkward.

“My vitality is in excellent shape,” he said.  “I
just wanted you to know that.”

“I have no doubt your vitality is…vital and
everything it should be,” she said.  “Not that it is any concern of mine, of
course.”

“Certainly.  I did not mean to imply…that is to
say…”  Yet he could think of nothing else to add.  “Does Mrs. Dorsett resemble
a cow?”

“Very much so.  Do you like your new coin purse?”

“I believe you know the answer to that, my lady,” he
said, noting that her lips were quivering to keep from laughing.  “If you wish
it, I can buy you a matching reticule.”

“Alas, it would be most improper for me to accept a
gift from a gentleman with whom I do not have an understanding.”

“I believe we have an understanding about the
artistic merits of this coin purse.”

Now she laughed outright.  “Perhaps, Inspector, you
could gift it to one of your informants in London.”

“That would only turn the man against me.”

“What about a particular lady friend?   You could
always give it to her.”

Joseph laughed at the very notion.  He would never
give such a gift to a lady.  Then Lady Evelyn rephrased her question.

“Do you have a particular lady friend to whom you
could give the purse?”

Evelyn was bright red, her eyes fixed forward.  Could
it be possible that she was trying to find out if he was betrothed?  Or had a
mistress?

“If I had a lady friend I would like to think she
would have better taste than to accept that coin purse as a gift.”

Was that relief he saw on her face?

“But wouldn’t a lady friend of yours have
questionable taste by definition?” 

She turned to him, grinning, and he could not
prevent a bark of laughter from escaping.  “If you do not watch yourself, my
lady, I shall take a rope and tangle up every sheep you own, keeping you busy
for the next fortnight at least.”

“I should like to see you try,” she said.  “I am
certain you run villains to ground on a regular basis.  But it is the ones on
four legs that seem to be elusive.”

“Elusive?  Or tomorrow’s dinner?”

They arrived back at her home and Joseph could not
remember the last time he’d laughed so much.  It was with great reluctance that
he wished her good day and returned to Jasmine Manor.

*                    *                    *

He arrived at the house with a great deal to think
about.  He waved off the groom in order to curry Rocinante himself, an activity
that always aided his ruminations, though the horse gave little advice.