Edward and Bergen finished their lunch of mutton pie and ale, content to have had time to rest whilst the ostlers rubbed down and fed their horses.

“I do not know when I have enjoyed lunch more. I have not laughed so much in an age.” Bergen mounted his large black gelding and the two men set off for Eynsham. “I fear your touch with the females continues, my friend. I must say, though, we picked the best place to stop. Where else might we have gotten such delightful entertainment?"

“I agree, my friend! I was trying to decide whether the circus was also staying at the inn.” Edward laughed at the memory. “That young lady and her screaming bird…it did indeed feel good to laugh.”

“You imp of Satan! Imp, imp, imp,” Bergen mimicked.

The intonation was a perfect mimic of the bird. Edward could not help but chuckle, which sent them off hooting with laughter, until a piercing shriek startled the horses.

“It came from around the bend, just ahead.” Edward pulled back on the reins, steadying his mare as she sidled and attempted to swing round.

"Easy, girl." He patted her sleek neck.

“Bugger. Whoremongers! Bugger. Whoremongers!”

“Could it be?” Bergen chortled, his dark hair wild from the ride.

“After you, my friend. There is only one way to find out.”

The two men nudged their horses forward. As they rounded the bend in the narrow, tree-lined road, they spotted the woman from the inn, doggedly walking, carrying her bird cage propped on her right hip.

“Were you not recently at the Roaring Lion Inn?” Edward could not resist enquiring.

The unprepossessing female looked up and squinted at them, her upper lip almost touching her nose from the effort, but said nothing. Instead, she kept walking.

“Bugger! Whoremongers!” the bird crowed the words.

“Archie, please be quiet.” The woman tapped the cage with her free hand.

“Archie? His name is Archie?” Bergen's tone was teasing.

“Yes, do you find that amusing, my lord? I confess that I am at a loss as to why the name Archie would be humorous to you. He is my long-time companion, and a wonderful friend,” she replied defensively.

Edward cleared his throat. “Mayhap we can be of assistance, my lady.” Somewhat belatedly, he had realized that her polished accents, as well as her clothing, even as mud-stained as they were, were Quality. Her dull brown hair hung in disarray about her pale cheeks, and he was reminded that her hair had been in a severe chignon when he last saw her. The loose hair softened her appearance considerably, he noticed.

“Whoremongers!” Archie filled in the silence.

“Archie! Please, hush.” The woman’s face blazed with embarrassment. “I fear I must apologize for his chatter. He is nervous.”

“May we inquire your destination, miss?” Bergen offered. “This would not be the best road for a lady to be traveling…” His throat worked. “...with a parrot.”

“I have had an abominable day already, thank you,” she answered tartly. “I hope you are enjoying yourself at my expense, my lord. For your information, I was abandoned by the stage-coach, which left with all of my belongings except for Archie. I did not get a chance to eat, either, due to…” She broke off with a cough. “Well, you know what prevented me from doing so.” The lady continued walking without turning to look at either rider.

Edward stayed quiet, considering. They certainly could not allow her to walk along this road. Highwaymen were known to frequent this road, aided by the thick trees and brush that flanked both sides of the road for long stretches at a time.

“Perhaps we could start by introducing ourselves, since we lack some acquaintance to perform this office.” He hoped this would not be a mistake he would regret. “My name is Weston,” he said, “and this is Lord Bergen.” Signaling to his friend, he stopped his horse and dismounted. Bergen followed his lead and they began to walk alongside the lady and her outlandish bird.

He waited for her to introduce herself.

Begrudgingly she replied, “Miss Longbottom.”

Clearing his throat—Edward assumed to prevent further ill-timed and riotous laughter—Bergen joined in, perhaps also realizing this woman needed help. “Miss, might we inquire where you are going?”

“My lords, I assure you, I am quite…splendid.” She puffed the last word, clearly tiring from the exertion of carrying the parrot and his cage.

“My lady, would you care to share the nature of your destination? Lord Bergen and I would be happy to be of assistance. In good conscience, we cannot ride on and leave a lady alone in such circumstances, even with a…companion.”

“We are appointed to meet with my brother. He will surely be looking for my arrival this afternoon. I am to meet him in Eynsham, at the post-house.”

Edward looked at Bergen. “Miss Longbottom, we, too, are journeying west and Eynsham is but a few miles along our route. As we are travelling in the same direction, I propose that we dispense with niceties and turn to more practical matters. The weather is chilly, with intermittent periods of cold rain, and you appear to be—quite understandably—tired.” He stopped and took a breath, unsure he really wanted to do what he was about to do. “My lady, can you ride?”

Miss Longbottom squinted at them. “Sir, I do not,” she replied in a most precise tone. “What are you suggesting?”

“That we take you up with us, miss. We assure you, we are honorable in our intentions, and only wish to deliver you safely to your destination so you may meet your brother.” Edward half hoped she would decline and he could continue his journey, knowing he had been a gentleman.

Miss Longbottom looked around, peering first at her surroundings and then up at the strangers. “I cannot handle a horse, my lord.”

“Of course. But I was proposing you merely ride. I will handle the horse. You can ride with me. I know this is not what you would wish, but I am a gentleman, and you are a lady in need of…” He struggled for the right word. He did not want to laugh. “In need of assistance,” he concluded after a moment.

Bergen offered his help. “I will be much obliged to carry your…Archie.” He bit his lip and kept a straight face, although Edward could see the effort it took.

“Well, I do not know what to say.” She looked down at her mud-stained boots, and then at her bird.

“Obliged to help! Whoremongers!” Archie shrieked, repeating Edward’s words of a moment ago.

The two men looked at each other and grinned. This could be one of the more interesting trips he had taken, Edward mused, watching the parrot prattling on with his new favorite phrase.

“It seems that Archie is game,” Edward suggested, allowing a grin to spread across his face.

“Archie is not terrified of horses and has his own cage,” she countered.

She bit her lip, a determined look to her face. Edward could see she was struggling with the decision.

“You promise me that I will be safe in the saddle with you? I have not forgotten those wicked scenes in the parlor.”

“I assure you, Athena is a gentle mare.” He would make sure of it.

“And yourself?” She looked up at him bravely, and at last he could see her eyes. They were an ocean-blue and mesmerizing.

“My lady, as I said earlier, it was not as it seemed. The serving wench dropped a bowl of hot soup over her dress and we were attempting to help blot up the hot liquid before she scalded herself.” Edward returned wryly.

“Sir, her bosoms were on display,” she bit out, her cheeks bright red from having said such a word.

Tedious, righteous virgins, Edward thought in disgust. Why were they bothering? He wanted to stop this ridiculous display of chivalry and let the silly chit keep walking with her bird... but his upbringing would not allow him.

“Her…chest...was exposed because she fell out of her dress. It was a most inopportune moment you witnessed, I assure you. We are innocent of any wrong-doing.” Edward made a careful, measured response.

“Innocent! Bosoms!” Archie squawked, his feathers flapping.

Edward quirked a brow at the intrusive bird, and drew in a deep breath. He sensed his irritation was showing.

“Miss Longbottom, I am not going to argue with you or your bird any further, and neither will we leave you on this road. You are safe, and you are coming with us.” Before she could utter another word, Edward lifted her up onto his saddle, and mounted his grey mare, settling in behind his prudish passenger. His mare nodded her head, but made no objections to the added burden.

Bergen took the cage from her fist. He mounted his steed, with Archie and cage in hand. His horse objected to carrying the bulky cage as side baggage, snorting and tossing his head.

The woman was blissfully silent. He was grateful for the awkward peacefulness. Edward noticed her knuckles were white from gripping the pommel of his saddle and she was leaning as far forward as she could. Priggish, ridiculous female! She might be attractive if she were not always squinting and forcing her lip to roll up into her nose in an effort to see. He recalled her broken glasses and sighed. Thankfully, this good deed would not take long, and they could be on their way, he thought, nudging Athena into a canter.

* * *

Hattie had always been terrified of horses, and was horrified at the thought of riding on such a large animal, but her feet already ached from Archie’s extra weight and she had not yet walked above a mile. By now, her brother, Richard, would be wondering where she had got to. It was a lowering realization that her morals were so fickle, she could sink to such depths in one day as to ride with these gentlemen of ill repute. She dared not think all of her mother's and the Reverend’s warnings about the heathen world out there!

“I am considered an expert horseman, miss,” Weston stated. He was staring at her expectantly, she noticed, squinting. It was then she realized he was waiting to boost her up. She lifted her foot, expecting him to provide a lift with his interlocked fingers but instead, he placed his hands on her waist and she was thrust upon the horse as though she were as light as one of Archie’s feathers. She could still feel the warmth from his hands on her waist and she tittered with near hysteria. When he mounted up behind her, and she could feel his thighs against hers and his chest against her back, she knew she would soon die of mortification.

“Oh fudge,” she muttered.

“Oh fudge! Whoremongers!” Archie repeated. He began to make a raucous, screeching sound.

“Hush!” she reprimanded, beginning to feel vaporish.

“Does your bird repeat everything he hears?”

“Not always, no. Only when he is anxious or excited.”

Weston’s arm came around her and she leaned forward to place some distance between their two bodies. She was trembling from fear and she tried not to look down.

“What is your direction?” he asked casually as they rode at a mild cantor along the hedge-lined road.

“I am to live with my brother. My mother passed away recently and he has graciously offered me a home with his family.”

“Please accept my condolences. I should have apprehended such an occurrence by your mourning attire.”

“Thank you, sir. She was an invalid for the past decade. I have scarcely left her side since I was six and ten.”

“Your mother was fortunate to have such a devoted daughter.”

Hattie harrumphed. “She would not have had it any other way, sir.”

Weston made a sound as though he were smothering a laugh. She turned to discover how Archie was faring but could only see his green body bobbing up and down on the horse. She could not make out the other gentleman's face with any clarity.

“And you, sir, where are you bound?” She politely returned the query.

“An insipid house party, I am afraid. Duty calls.”

They rounded a curve in the road rather briskly and she held onto the pommel and mane with all her might. She was certain she was splayed ungracefully across the poor horse’s neck.

Weston slowed the horse once they had straightened again, but she was still afraid to open her eyes or let go of the mane.

A gentle hand was trying to tug her upright.

“By Jove, is that Livingston ahead?” Bergen called. Hattie could see nothing but a blur of black.

“I think it is,” Weston replied.

“I’ll wager you a monkey we can overtake him before Eynsham.”

Where they speaking of a race? Hattie wanted no part of this. She was finally beginning to settle and feel perhaps there was some gentlemanly behavior to be found in this pair. Then she was pulled back into his chest.

“What are you doing?” she shrieked.

“Hold on my dear, this will not take a minute,” he whispered in her ear, holding her body plastered up against him in a most vulgar fashion which sent strange new sensations coursing through her stomach.

Soon they were galloping so hard her entire body was jarred and clods of mud flew everywhere. If she was not blind before, then she was sure to be now. Her bonnet came untied and she could feel the wind whipping her hair. It would be exhilarating if she did not fear she would fall to her death.

“I demand you to stop at once!” She squinted up at him, until a whiff of dust found her nose. She fought to hold back the sneeze threatening.

“Sorry, my love. It will be over in a moment.” His voice was dripping with amusement.

She attempted to wriggle free, fearing she would be safer on the ground.

“Be still, woman!” he shouted at her as he pulled on the reins and slowed.

“You, sir, are no gentleman! Racing with a gently bred lady on your horse surpasses…everything!” she exclaimed, trying to catch her breath, which was heaving violently in her chest.

The two gave each other at look, but she could not make it out. The men dismounted, and Weston assisted her down from Athena. Bergen handed Archie to her. They both bowed regally.

“I humbly beg your pardon, miss,” Weston said, but she could not determine if he was mocking her or not.

“Are you certain this is your destination?” he asked.

“Yes, quite. This is where Richard was to meet me, but I would not go one foot further with either of you blackguards!”

“Very well. Good day to you, miss. Good day to you, Archie,” Weston said pleasantly.

“Good day! Bosoms! Whoremongers!” Archie returned to the bellowing laughter of the two gentlemen. Hattie watched them gracefully remount and raise their hats as they rode away, as though they had done her a great favor.