6
By midmorning Philippa had eaten and borrowed an ill-fitting dress from the sweet Mrs. Craddock. Mr. Boudreaux had borrowed one of Mr. Craddock’s shirts and had hired a coach to take them back to London.
She followed him to the waiting coach but jolted when he offered his hand to help her inside. Her cheeks warmed and her heart lurched; it felt so inappropriate to be treated this way. She shook her head, muttering a thank you as she gently but firmly pushed past him and pulled herself into the coach.
They sat on opposite sides of the coach, a strange tension growing between them. She’d spent the night in his bed and while nothing happened, she felt changed.
She’d woken with her body coiled around his, their limbs tangled in a quiet intimacy that she’d never known before. Ever since s
