An Indecent Gambit

Chapter Eleven: Unwanted and Unwise

Grace did not see what else they could do. They could hardly wait in Mrs Partridge's house until the coach returned. And it was not very far from home, not more than one or two miles. It was well worth the price of ruined slippers to avoid the embarrassment of obliging yourself to a new acquaintance.

A soft voice intruded upon their conversation: "Is something the matter, Miss Follet?"

Grace turned, startled, to see Benson hovering behind her. He had lingered after the other guests left to talk earnestly to Miss Partridge by the piano. Now, with a pair of riding gloves in one hand, he looked as though he was at last about to leave.

"There's nothing—"

"Mr Redwood has gone away for an emergency and we cannot get home," said Emma.

Benson looked surprised. "How very troublesome."

"And my coach has already been sent out for the Bells," Mrs Partridge said. "Whatever shall we do?"

"I don't suppose I could be of assistance, Madam?" Benson sounded very hesitant and uncertain. "I have but a curricle. It might be a tight squeeze, but I could see the young ladies home."

Mrs Partridge looked relieved. "Well, I am not sure that it is right — a stranger..."

"He is no stranger to us," Emma said. "We know him quite well. Oh, please, Mr Benson. I can't possibly walk."

"Oh, no, Emma." Grace felt her cheeks burn. "We... we might wait for the coach to return."

Mrs Partridge shook her head. "The Bells live in Cheapside. Your parents will be worried if you do not arrive home soon, girls. And Mr Benson can be trusted. He is a man of the cloth."

Trust was not the issue. Grace simply didn't want to be near him. To trespass upon Mrs Partridge's hospitality was embarrassing. To have to ask a favour of Benson was mortifying.

"Grace, I'm tired." Emma tugged at her arm. "Let's just go home. Please."

Benson gave Grace a doubtful look. "Miss Follet?"

Grace took in a deep breath. Emma had a delicate constitution. The roads were dangerous at night. They could not stay at Mrs Partridge's all night. It would be very selfish to prioritize her pride over the practical considerations. She gave a small nod. "It is for the best, I believe."

"Very well then. My curricle should be at the door, if you are ready to leave now."

They were. They said their goodbyes to Mrs Partridge and a few minutes later Benson was handing Grace up into his curricle. He sat between her and Emma. It was far closer than they had been before, far closer than they had been allowed to be. Six years ago, Grace might have welcomed the heat of his thigh against. Now, she could only feel supremely awkward. She kept trying to shift away from Benson, pressing herself against the edge of the seat, holding her breath with the effort to make herself small.

"It was very unfortunate for Mr Redwood to leave you for the emergency," Mr Benson said. "I hope nothing is wrong."

"Nothing much."

"Where'd he go?" Emma asked innocently. "You didn't tell me it was— oh." She went quiet very suddenly. "I'm sure he has a good reason."

Benson took his eyes off the road for a moment to look at Grace. Grace stared away from him, at the houses they were passing, an acute ache in her heart. If it had been anyone but Benson to take them home! And where on earth had James gone?

"I do not wish to intrude," Benson said quietly, "but there was no emergency, was there?"

"Do not intrude then," Grace said.