Page 91 of A Potion for Passion

Chapter Forty-Four

A muscle jumped to life in Lawrence’s jaw. Barnabas Todd. Curse the man! Lawrence had occasionally suspected the peddler was in league with the wreckers too, though they’d never spoken of it. But why had the man ransacked his wagon?

Barnabas knew far too much about Lawrence—what fairs he went to, which villages and towns, and his preferred seasons for going. He couldn’t feel safe with Barnabas at large, just in case he knew about his part in giving up Nat Pryce and the wreckers to the authorities. Muttering curses, Lawrence climbed up to survey the damage.

The devastation inside his caravan should have appalled him. The contents of all his chests had been scattered on the floor, the herb drawers had been pulled out and upended, and the simples mixed irreversibly. Anything which had been hung up had been flung down, and everything breakable looked to be broken.

If Barnabas had done this, he’d been out for revenge. Why hadn’t he just set fire to the wagon and been done with it? Unless he’d been looking for something in particular. But what did he expect to find? On any other day, Lawrence would have been rigid with fury and out for immediate redress. But today, everything was different.

He loved Flora, and she’d admitted to loving him back.

Not even the total wreck of his livelihood could take away that joy.

“Has anything been taken?”

He spun round to see Corporal Triggs poking his ugly face through the wagon flap.

“Nothing important,” Lawrence answered, not wanting to give the man any excuse to come inside. Fortunately, he’d locked his savings in a stout box and stowed it in the landlord’s safe, along with his treatise on medicine, his pistols, and his ill-gotten lace and silks. His sword had been left in the wagon, so that would be gone, of course. And very likely a knife or two, as well.

“Any idea where Todd might have gone?” the redcoat asked.

Lawrence chewed on his lip. “If I was him, I suppose I’d flee the country. You should concentrate on the coast if you want to catch him.”

“He’s a loose end,” retorted Triggs, turning his head and spitting. “I don’t like loose ends.”

“You’d better get after him, then, and leave me to sort out this chaos.”

But Lawrence didn’t set to it right away. Jumping down, he looked for Flora, and found her among the crowd of interested bystanders. She looked shocked and dismayed, and he loved her for caring. A few people offered him assistance or words of sympathy, but he barely acknowledged them as he strode across to her.

“I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed. “That horrid peddler. I want to beat him black and blue.”

“Now, now, my love. It’s not like you to be so violent. I had you down as a gentle soul.”

She peered up at him, then slapped him on the arm. “You thought no such thing,” she retorted. “I know you’re just teasing me. Don’t even try. You’re the first person who’s ever understood who I truly am.”

The urge to kiss her, right then and there, was almost overwhelming. He said softly, “Everyone must be blind if they can’t see you as I do, or value you as much. Speaking of which, you’d best be off home before your reputation takes another tumble.”

She tossed her head like a saucy young girl just out of the schoolroom. “Do you think I care about that now? I’m the aunt of a countess, and it’s about time people gave me the respect I deserve.”

Happiness bubbled up in his chest, despite the grim wreck of his caravan. Flora never ceased to surprise him. What an extraordinary woman!

“Very well. If you don’t mind, neither do I. I’ll fetch that money. We can pay a visit to Sally Matthews if you still want to deal with her—I can’t wait to see her face when she sees I’m free. She’ll be shamed into accepting a lower price, I’m sure.”

Flora laid a hand on his arm. “Maybe…I should go on my own.”

“You will not! I’m not letting you out of my sight. Barnabas is still out there. He may be a dismal goat of a man, but he’s a dangerous goat. And now he’s desperate, too, and no friend to either of us. I’ll be your shadow until I decide it’s safe to leave you on your own.”

His lungs heaved in panic at his last words. Leave her on her own? How could he possibly leave her now? He wanted to marry her. He must figure out a way to stay. And find a way to make a respectable living so he could provide for her.

Protector and provider. Who’d have thought Lawrence Campaign would ever seek such a role?

She nodded. “Very well, we’ll go together. Oh, but what can have happened to Charley? Shouldn’t he have been here, guarding your wagon against intruders?”

He grimaced. What a terrible person he was! How could he have forgotten his beloved dog? If any harm had come to the creature—

A comforting thought hit him. “There’s a chance Jud Creasey has Charley. He took a liking to the mutt, and went out walking with him a few times, whether I gave my permission or not.”

“Ah, good.” Flora tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, and they set off for East Town. “He will be at school learning his letters and arithmetic, and good manners.”