A Week to Be Wicked (Spindle Cove #2)(36)

“These are decent people. It’s wicked to tell them such horrid lies.”

“We’re traveling under false pretenses. On the premise of a false engagement. Using false names. And this was all your idea. This is hardly the time for moral scruples, pet.”

“But—”

He raised a hand. “If my entertaining the Fontleys with a few exaggerated tales counts as wicked, I suggest you learn to embrace wickedness. For at least the remainder of the week. Their offer of transport is a true boon. It will save a great deal of money and perhaps preserve your reputation, as well. You have a chaperone.”

She knew it was true. “That’s all very well. But now I’m the one who must ride in a carriage with them for days, living out your absurd fictions.”

“Exactly. So why not have fun with it?”

“Fun?”

He took her by the shoulders and waited for her to meet his gaze. Minerva did so, with no slight reluctance. It was impossible to think clearly when she looked into those brilliant hazel eyes.

“Live in the moment, M. This is your chance to crawl out of that shell. There’s an interesting, confident girl in there somewhere. She comes out for a peek every now and then. Try being her, for just a few days. You won’t progress very far on this journey otherwise.”

Minerva bit her lip. She wanted to think there was an interesting, confident girl inside her, and that, at last, someone saw that girl clearly. But for all she knew, he was working the same trick he’d played on the Fontleys. Puffing her up with false praises. Telling her just what she wanted to hear.

Lying to her. Again.

“It’s only a few harmless exaggerations.” He walked her slowly toward the carriage. “Think of it like running down a slope. If you attempt to slow down and choose your steps, you’re bound to trip up and stumble. But if you simply let yourself run with the story, everything will come out fine.”

“Are you ready, Miss Sand?” Mr. Fontley said. “Mrs. Fontley and the children are already inside.”

Minerva nodded.

Colin handed her into the carriage. Once she’d taken a seat beside Lettie and arranged her skirts, her “brother” closed the coach door and popped his head through the open window.

“I’ll be riding nearby, M. Never fear. If you have any need of me whatsoever, you know what to do.” He flashed a smile and called out, “Tallyho!”

In unison, Lettie and Gilbert called back, “You’re cracked!”

With a little groan, Minerva buried her face in her hands.

“It’s always been like this between me and M,” Colin said. As they walked through a little wooded area, he pushed aside branches so she could pass. “Ever since we were in our cradles.”

“Truly?” Lettie asked. “Even as babies?”

Minerva rolled her eyes. How did he have the energy to keep manufacturing this poppycock? She was exhausted. By the time they’d stopped for luncheon and a change of horses, she’d been running down his figurative slope all morning, churning out one vague falsehood after another to satisfy the Fontleys’ boundless curiosity. She’d hoped to find some brief escape by declaring her intent to walk and stretch her legs.

But of course, Colin would decide to accompany her. And Lettie and Gilbert would jump to follow.

“Oh yes,” Colin continued, leading them all on the path. “My sister and I have always had this deep, unspoken connection. We have whole conversations without exchanging a word.”

He looked to her then. She held his gaze.

He was right. They could have a whole conversation without exchanging a word. And the conversation they had right now went like this:

Colin, shut it.

I don’t think I will, M.

Then I’ll make you.

Really? How?

I’m not certain, but it will be slow and painful. And I won’t leave any evidence.

“She saved my life once,” he told the young Fontleys.

“Who?” Lettie asked. “Miss Em?”

“Yes indeed. She delivered me, single-handedly, from death’s clutches. It’s a grand story.”

Striding through the ankle-high grasses, Minerva choked on a laugh. Oh, I’m sure it is.

“Do tell us. I’m certain the tale does Miss Sand great credit.” Gilbert looked to Minerva with admiration in his eyes. And quite possibly a glimmer of infatuation.

Oh dear. Of all the times for a young man to finally take a fancy to her.

“Well, it all started deep in the jungle,” Colin said. “While we were out exploring one day, I was bitten by a rare, highly venomous beetle.”

Lettie’s eyes sparked. “And Miss Em cut open the wound and sucked out the venom!”

“No, no. She couldn’t do that. The poison was too fast acting.”

“So she dragged you back home, to get help?”

“I’m afraid not.” Colin shook his head. “I was too heavy for her.”

“So I left him dying and went home for dinner,” Minerva said cheerfully. “The end.”

Gilbert laughed. “Of course you didn’t. You ran for help, didn’t you?”

“She did,” Colin said.

They’d reached the stream’s edge. Colin propped one foot on a fallen log.