Never Less Than A Lady | Herophine

Chapter Eight

Hero

There wasn’t a single damned carriage in Carlisle available for hire that afternoon. At least none that Hero could find. If he was willing to wait until the next morning, he would have his choice, but he had a prickly desire to get Josephine out of town as soon as possible. Carlisle was an obvious place for the kidnappers to hunt her.

Luckily he located two sturdy riding hacks. Hero was not enthralled at the prospect of hours more riding, but he’d manage.

He returned to the shabby shop where he’d left Josephine. Though he watched for men who might be the kidnappers, he saw no one likely. Probably Arthur was still searching the hills near where Josephine escaped. But that could not be relied on.

The shop was small, neat, yet cluttered. Tables were dedicated to garments for men, women, or children. A particularly handsome lady’s outfit hung on the back wall with gown, shawl, and bonnet. But he didn’t see Josephine. Surely she hadn’t been fool enough to go out alone!

A movement caught his eye and he turned to see Josephine sewing in a corner. With her head bent and dressed in drab clothing, he’d overlooked her entirely. "Are you finished here, my dear?” he asked, trying to sound like a fond husband.

“Your timing is good." She knotted her thread and bit it off. “I just finished basting this hem.” She stood and shook out a dark gray cloak, then draped it around her shoulders. The garment was singularly devoid of style. She picked up a battered carpetbag and called through an open door at the back of the small room, “I'm leaving now, Mrs. Rown. Thank you so much for the tea."

“My pleasure, dearie,” a woman called in a strong northern accent. “You have a safe journey now, and thankee for the advice."

Hero took the carpetbag and offered Josephine his arm. When they were outside on the street, he said, “Did you know the proprietor already?"

Josephine glanced up from under a depressing black bonnet. “No, but she’s increasing and appreciated a few suggestions on how to feel better."

He studied her outfit. The colors were dull, the fabric worn, and the fit poor. “Your ensemble makes you as close to invisible as humanly possible. Well done.”

“I've had years of practice in invisibility." Her fingers tightened on his arm. “I thought I’d hidden so well that the past would never find me. Yet when Arthur appeared—I wasn’t really surprised."

“Soon you won’t have to hide any more. Once we’re married and Damien has accepted your right to exist, he’ll call off his dogs.”

She bit her lip. “Do you really think he will?"

“Yes, though not happily.”A lifetime of wariness had given Hero some understanding of his uncle. “For the sake of the earldom’s survival, he will."

“I hope you’re right,” she said softly.

He hoped so, too. Though Hero spoke to Josephine with confidence, he knew better than anyone that Damien was an unpredictable old devil. “Were you able to purchase a riding habit There were no carriages available, so I hired horses. They’re waiting at an inn where we can dine and write our messages."

Her glance went to his damaged leg, but she knew better than to mention that. “I did find a habit, though it’s large. I can change at the inn."

They stepped into the high street. Josephine gasped and retreated to flatten herself against the bricks of the corner building. “He’s out there! Arthur and one of his men!"

“Did he see you?” Hero scanned the people moving along the street.

“I...I don’t think so.” Josephine’s hands knotted into fists as she struggled for control. “He was looking toward the cathedral.”