Footprints At Dawn (Book 2)

Chapter Fourteen

We had been travelling at least ten minutes before I decided it was safe to remove the hood of my cloak. We hadn't passed another soul, and from what I could see from the brief, subtle glances behind us, no one was following us.

"Wait," Nicholas said, as I reached up for my hood. "Don't take your hood off just yet."

"Why not?" I asked him, disappointed.

"I think we're being followed."

I acted dumb. "Oh?"

"You saw him, too, didn't you? Back at the house?"

He looked at me and I was unable to lie. "Yeah," I admitted. "I didn't want to say anything because I thought you'd be mad at me for turning around."

He shook his head. "No, no. I think he'd been watching us the whole time we were at the Valentines, unfortunately."

"Did you see who he was?"

"He was too far away. We'll just have to be careful, though. We don't want him to recognise you and we don't want to lead him to my father. We'll try to lose him along the way. It'll be fine." He smiled at me, squeezed my hand reassuringly, then turned his attention back to the road.

I felt like I was inside an oven. In winter the cloak would be toasty warm, but unfortunately it was summer and all I wanted to do was throw it overboard.

I wiggled around in my seat, adjusting the cloak off my shoulders a little. "God, this thing is so hot," I grumbled.

"I'm sorry, darling. We'll stop at the next town and find some shade and refreshments. We certainly didn't come packed for a road trip, so we will have to buy some supplies, anyway."

"Maybe I can buy a hat to wear instead? Or a bandana to cover my face."

He chuckled at my suggestion. "I'm sorry you're uncomfortable," he said, sympathetically.

"No, no," I replied, dismissing it with the wave of my hand. "It's my fault I'm running from the law. Although having a top on your buggy would help tremendously," I joked.

"Ah, yes. Fortunately, the buggy was small, light and cheap. It suited my needs perfectly. Unfortunately, it lacks comfort."

"Now I know what people go through who drive convertibles. They must get sunburnt all the time."

"I'm assuming a convertible is something in your time without a top?" I nodded. "So this is a convertible?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Ah, no. Not even close."

"Oh. Your time sounds confusing. No offence, but I'm glad I was born in this century."

"Sometimes I wish I was born in this century," I said.

"You do? But what about your hot baths and plumbing?"

"Yes, they're wonderful, but I wouldn't miss what I didn't have in the first place, would I?"

"True. However, I wouldn't want you to have been born in this century."

"Oh? Why not?"

"Because Doyle was born in this century. I wouldn't wish that on anyone to be born in the same century as him."

"Do you think Doyle was always such a bastard? Or only after he'd spent fourteen years in gaol?"

"I suppose if I had spent fourteen years in gaol for a crime I didn't commit, I would have some anger issues, too. But I can't help wonder why my father would frame him for stealing? Why would he want an innocent man to be transported and spend fourteen years in gaol?"