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As he saddled the horse, Beatrice had relieved herself.

She’d braided her hair and tied the end of the crimson and gold rope with a piece of cloth.

“I regret your having to travel in this fashion, Beatrice, when you are still recovering from your illness.”

Would she relapse?

Would the strain of hard travel be too much for her to endure?

Cassius’s mind recoiled from such thoughts.

He would ensure they reached Hefferwickshire House safely. He’d given his oath, but in his heart, he couldn’t deny that it was much more than that.

Beatrice gave him a nascent smile, roving her gaze over his face, as if she wanted to graze her fingertips over his jaw, but didn’t dare.

Part of him wished she would.

“Again, it is I who should be apologizing Cassius.” The upward sweep of her lips turned stalwart, and a determined glint sparked in her eyes. “I shall manage perfectly well.”

Cassius held his tongue, knowing full well that false bravado prompted her confident claim to hide her fear.

Water and a few berries comprised their meager rations to sustain them on the journey. Already hungry and tired, they needed to reach Hefferwickshire House today.

He slid the sling over Beatrice’s slender neck and shoulder, then arranged it so that the pouch hung at her back. “Let’s hope Teddy likes his travel accommodations.”

“He’ll be a good little lad.” Her troubled gaze betrayed her doubt.

Cassius placed the confused dog in the sling.

At once, Teddy popped his head over the edge but did not climb out.

Cassius rubbed between his ears. “Good boy.”

The pouch wiggled as Teddy wagged his tail.

“I’ll boost you, Beatrice, and you shall sit behind the saddle. Hold on to the cantle—” at her bemused expression, he explained, “—the back, while I climb on.”

Cassius had never mounted a horse with someone already sitting astride, but there was no way in hell Beatrice could manage on her own.

They would be lucky if they didn’t both end up on their arses.

“I had a thought about that.” She grimaced, looking like she’d swallowed a slug. “I have an idea. It’s not exactly brilliant, but it may work.”

As Brighton fell farther and farther behind them, her stutter continued to improve.

He supposed it was possible that Beatrice’s uncle caused the nervousness that tongue-tied her, and that with him out of her life, her stutter would disappear too.

She gazed at Cassius expectantly, and he brought his thoughts back to the matter at hand.

He lifted an eyebrow, happy to hear anything that could get them both atop the horse, uninjured. “I’m all ears.”

“What if we moved the table outside? You could help me stand on it. Then, after you’ve mounted, I could straddle the horse.”

It was brilliant.

For the first time since waking, he smiled. “Excellent idea.”

It would mean leaving the table in the elements, but it was already in a sorry state, and it didn’t look like the lodge’s owner had used it in decades.