CHAPTER FIFTEEN

      COOP AND DANY drove away from Portman Square beneath a reasonably warm London sun, Harry and a wicker picnic basket behind the curricle seat.

      Dany considered the picnic basket a good omen. She wished Harry to John O’Groats or some other place equally distant.

      She was fast becoming A Very Bad Person.

      Her fingertips itched to stroke Coop’s cheek, to run through his hair.

      She probably shouldn’t imagine any plans beyond that. For now, she could barely look at him without her stomach twisting into knots.

      He seemed perfectly in control, however. Almost as if last night hadn’t happened. She could only hope he was also hiding his true feelings.

      “Excuse me?”

      Coop had said something, and she hadn’t heard him.

      Had the events of last night turned her suddenly stupid? Yes, that was entirely possible. Look at Mari, for goodness’ sake.

      “I said, I was surprised to have you meet me in the foyer, ready to leave. I was convinced your sister would have had a few questions for me.”

      Dany brought up a mental picture of Mari as she’d last seen her, weeping over her hot chocolate while holding up a mirror to her red, splotchy face, her usually beautiful dark hair hanging in greasy strands, wet from two washings yet still clearly clinging to the chicken fat.

      She couldn’t resist.

      “I believe she plans to confine herself to her chambers for the next several days. A slight mishap with foodstuffs.”

      She felt him looking at her and hoped she appeared suitably solemn.

      “Foodstuffs? I don’t want to know anything more about this, do I?” he asked.

      “I don’t think so, no. Suffice it to say, although I’m confident she’ll be fine, she told me she doesn’t care where I go, what I do, nor whom I do it with, as long as I don’t say, ‘I told you so,’ one more time. You and I, Cooper Townsend, are free as birds.”

      Coop reached over and squeezed her hand. “I don’t know that I’ll ever be free again. And before you fly up into the boughs, little bird, I’m deliriously happy about that.”

      “Oh.” Dany took in a breath, not deep, because even shallow breaths seemed suddenly difficult with her chest feeling as tight as it did. “We rather made fools of ourselves last night, didn’t we?”

      She waited for an answer.

      “Well? Aren’t you going to say something?” she asked at last.

      “Oh, you wanted some sort of validation?”

      She rolled her eyes. He loved to tease her, obviously. And she apparently loved to be teased. “You could tell me I’m wrong. That might help, yes.”

      He turned to her, his smile knees-melting. “Forgive me. I was fully occupied in contemplating how we might be foolish again today.”

      Dany bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing. “I like a gentleman with a fine mind.”

      “And I like an honest woman. But first, we do have to talk. Darby and I learned a few things earlier today.”

      “You visited the Fleet?” Dany allowed herself to be diverted. After all, one couldn’t think about being foolish all of the time. Although she’d have to delve more deeply into reasons why they shouldn’t. “Was it a dreadful place?”

      “Most of it, I’m sure. Ned Givens, on the other hand, apparently lives better than half of London. He explained that he was prepared to be clapped in the Fleet, and made appropriate arrangements. And before you ask, yes, Ferdie demanded money or else he’d expose him as a cheat.”

      Dany tipped her head to one side, considering this, what prepared meant.

      “How did he know this Ferdie person would expose him in any case?”

      “He didn’t know it was Ferdie. He just knew that if he met with success, the hopeful blackmailer would be back for more money until Ned’s well ran dry, and probably then expose him, anyway. Ned didn’t like the odds.”

      “Never play at cards with the man,” Dany warned, but then she smiled. “I wish you’d taken me with you. I think I would have enjoyed your Mr. Givens.”

      “I thought of that, yes. Now do you want to hear what Darby learned about Geoff Quinton?”

      “I suppose. If he’s also being blackmailed by Ferdie—such a silly name, Ferdie. I can’t seem to stop saying it.”

      “I’m happy it amuses you. I’m not feeling inclined to find anything silly about the man right now.”

      “Your friend Davy.” Dany nodded. “I’m so sorry.”

      “Yes, so am I. Sorry for Oliver, for Ned, and I reserve some pity for myself, if truth be known. But not for Geoff Quinton. Unless we should feel sorry for him now that he seems to have suffered a broken arm.”

      “He’s—he’s had an accident?” she asked, although she was fairly certain she knew the true answer. “Darby visited him this morning. Was the man injured before the viscount arrived?”

      “No, he wasn’t. I understand he was in his dining room, shoving dripping eggs and kippers down his gullet. And before I say more, let me tell you again how wonderful it is that I can speak freely to you, without fear you won’t understand, or that you’ll swoon or some such thing.”

      “Thank you?”

      “You’re welcome. And stop looking at me that way or Harry is going to receive an education he’s too young for at this moment. And here we are,” he said, pulling the curricle onto a narrow lane. “I’ll answer your questions soon enough.”

      They rode in silence for at least a half mile before he brought the horses to a halt once they’d arrived at a wonderfully thatched and cross-barred cottage, the sun shining off dozens of mullioned windows. It was at least five times the size of any cottage she’d ever seen.

      “I admit I haven’t been paying attention ever since we left London behind,” Dany said as he helped her to the ground, looking about the grassy, parklike setting. “Where are we?”

      “Just