He’d looked so comfortable. She hated to wake him. It was really too bad—

“Ma’am?”

She looked up. One of the footmen was regarding her with concern. And no wonder. She’d been standing there for what had to have been a full minute, frozen in thought.

“Ma’am?” he said again.

A slow smile spread across her face. “I’m going to need some rope.”

NICHOLAS AWOKE WITH a start. It was unnerving to open one’s eyes and see nothing, and it took him a moment to remember that he’d tied his cravat over his eyes the night before. He unwrapped his makeshift sleeping mask and yawned. Christ, he was tired. The hammock had been more comfortable than he’d have anticipated, but as he’d been settling into it the night before, all he’d been able to think was that he really should have had the opportunity to sleep in a bed with his wife.

His wife.

He’d been married a day and he’d barely even kissed her.

He was going to have to do something about that.

He looked around. His was the last hammock hanging and the stable door was wide open. The sky was a bright English white. Blue would have been cheerful, but white without rain he’d take.

His feet hit the ground just as one of the Crake footmen appeared in the doorway and waved at him.

“Good morning, sir,” the footman called. “We’re just about ready.”

“Ready?” Nicholas echoed. What time was it? He reached into his pocket for his watch, but before he could take a look, the footman said, “Mrs. Rokesby has been very busy.”

“Arranging for breakfast?” Nicholas asked. It was half eight, much later than he’d meant to start his day.

“That, and the, er …” The footman frowned. “You should really see for yourself.”

Nicholas wasn’t sure whether to be curious or scared, but he decided to go with curious until convinced otherwise.

“She’s right clever, she is,” the footman said. “Mrs. Rokesby, I mean.”

“She is,” Nicholas agreed, although he could not imagine what cleverness she’d managed to display at half eight in the morning at The Brazen Bull Inn.

He made his way to the stable door and stopped short. There in the middle of the driveway were the two carriages, surrounded by a small crowd of onlookers.

Who all seemed to be watching his wife.

Georgie was standing on the main carriage’s step, dressed for travel in a plum-colored frock, her gingery hair unadorned by a bonnet.

“Yes, like that,” she said, calling out instructions to some unseen person within. A pause, and then: “No, not like that.”

“What is going on?” Nicholas asked the first person he came across.

“Strangest thing I ever did see.”

Nicholas turned and blinked, only just then realizing that the man with whom he was speaking was not a member of their traveling party. “Who are you?” he asked.

“Who are you?” the man countered.

Nicholas motioned toward Georgie. “Her husband.”

“Really?” The man grinned. “She’s something.” And then he started to laugh.

Nicholas frowned. What the devil?

“Been watching her for a quarter of an hour at least.”

Nicholas decided he did not like this man. “Have you now?” he murmured.

“If she makes this work …” The man shook his head with admiration before turning to face Nicholas head-on. “You wouldn’t happen to be heading north?”

“Why?” Nicholas asked suspiciously.

His new best friend took this as yes. “Do you know where you’re stopping? I’m desperate to know how it turns out. We’re taking bets on it.”

“What?”

“Or we would be, if we could be assured we’d hear the results. Don’t suppose you’re planning to make a stop at Biggleswade? Could you leave word at the King’s Reach and let us know how it works out?”

Nicholas gave the man one last irritated glance and stomped off to Jameson, who was standing closer to Georgie.

“Jameson,” he said, perhaps a little more gruffly than he’d intended. “Why has a crowd of spectators congregated around my wife?”

“Oh, you’re awake!” Jameson said. “Good morning, sir.”

“Is it?” Nicholas asked. “Is it?”

“We all hope so, sir. Mrs. Rokesby is certainly trying her best.”

“But what is she doing?”

“A little higher!” Georgie called. “Right, good. Now tie a knot right there. Make sure it’s tight.”

GRAO!

Nicholas had almost forgotten the particular horror of that sound. “Where is it?” he asked in a desperate voice. Good Lord, he had not slept well. Or rather, he had not slept much. He could not bear to ponder another full day in the carriage with the beast.

“We found its basket,” Jameson said, pointing to a wicker basket currently resting on the lead carriage’s footboard. “It doesn’t seem to like it, though.”

GRAO!

Nicholas resolutely turned his back on the cat. “Would I be correct in assuming that Mrs. Rokesby’s current machinations have something to do with the cat?”

“I would hate to spoil her surprise, sir.”

“Almost …” they heard Georgie say, followed by, “Perfect!”

She poked her head out. “We—Oh! You’re awake.”

Nicholas gave a little bow. “As you can see.” He glanced around the crowded courtyard. “As everyone can see.”

“Oh, yes.” Her cheeks turned slightly pink, although it seemed to be more with pride than embarrassment . “We seem to have garnered a bit of an audience.”

“One can only wonder why.”

“Come in, come in,” she urged. “I must show you my masterpiece.”

Nicholas took a step forward.

“Wait!”

He stopped.

She held up a hand. “One moment.” Then, looking past him, she said, “Could someone hand me the cat?”

There was no question which cat she was referring to. One of the grooms retrieved Cat-Head’s basket and handed it to one of the maids, who handed it up to Georgie.

“I will be ready for you in just a moment,” she said. Then she shut the door.

Nicholas looked at Jameson.

Jameson grinned.

GRAOOOO!

Nicholas frowned. That didn’t sound quite right. Not that anything that cat did sounded right, but this sounded more wrong than usual.

GRAAAAAOOOAAAOOO!

Nicholas looked at Jameson. “If she doesn’t open the door in five seconds, I’m going in.”

Jameson shuddered. “Godspeed, sir.”

There were sounds of a tussle, followed by another howl, slightly muffled. Nicholas took a breath. Time to save his wife.

GRAaaa … Graaaa …

Meow.

Nicholas stopped short. That sounded almost …

Happy?

Meow.

“She did it,” Jameson said, in a statement that could only be described as reverent.

Nicholas looked at him, and then back at the carriage.

Georgie opened the door. “Do come in,” she said, the very model of a gracious hostess.