The Lass Who Kissed a Frog, Lee, Caroline [i have read the book a hundred times .txt] 📗

her rough woolen skirt, then checked in the mirror once more to ensure the lumpy brown shawl they’d borrowed from Mrs. Oliphant made her look as shapeless as possible. Her oldest blouse, and one of the dirty caps Mother used to make Ember wear to hide her hair, completed the disguise. She and Bonnie had even rubbed a little ash along her jawline and cheekbones, and even under her eyes, to make her look gaunter.

“Aye, ye do,” chuckled her sister from where she peeked out into the corridor. “But appearances arenae everything, remember. Did ye find a companion?”

Vanessa hesitated, knowing her sister wouldn’t approve of her choice. She wasn’t even certain she approved of her choice. “I did. We will meet at the station.”

Bonnie was distracted and didn’t ask who would be traveling with her, thank goodness. “Good. Everything looks clear out here. And in here…”

They both glanced toward the bed where a combination of pillows and a counterpane had been arranged to look like Vanessa was still sleeping under the blanket.

“Do ye think she’ll fall for it?” Vanessa whispered.

Bonnie knew exactly which she mattered. “Ye ken Mother is content to allow us to recover in peace. I’ll just tell her yer cramps are particularly bad this month, and ye dinnae want to be bothered by noise or light or pampering. Just let ye die in peace, oh the pain, et cetera, et cetera.”

“Thank goodness for menses, eh?” Vanessa asked drily.

“Every two years or so they become useful as an excuse, but that doesnae make up for the pain in the arse they are the other twenty-three months.”

“Pain in the ovaries, I think ye mean.”

Bonnie snorted, then glanced out the cracked-open door and gestured. “Alright, yer escape is clear. Go now, but remember, I can only stall Mother for three days, nae more!”

“Aye, and my thanks,” Vanessa hissed in a whisper, as she picked up the carpetbag they’d found in the attic and slipped by her sister.

She made it out of the inn without encountering anyone who recognized her, then picked up her skirts and practically ran to the train station. She was wearing Bonnie’s most practical pair of boots, which they’d scuffed so as not to draw attention, and she was grateful they’d thought of it. A faint smile came to her lips as she remembered the thoroughly impractical heeled sleepers—Ember’s creation—she’d worn to the ball.

Even the memory of dancing with Roland at that ball—Roland, whom she’d now lost—couldn’t diminish the satisfaction of knowing Ember was happily married to Max DeVille and well on her way to creating a new line of footwear for the ladies of Scotland.

And I helped her by showing off those shoes at the ball.

There. She’d done one thing right, at least.

And now, she was on her way to have an adventure. Granted, not the kind of adventure she would’ve necessarily chosen, but she knew this could help Bonnie, and if she could help another sister achieve her dream, she most certainly would.

She was still grinning from the excitement when she reached the train platform, and when she saw Mister Frog standing there, his hands clasped behind his back as he stared off in the distance, her grin only grew. She slowed to study him, since he wasn’t looking at her, and quietly climbed up the platform on his blind side.

What fit of madness had possessed her to say yes to his offer yesterday? She’d fretted over it half the night, reminding herself she didn’t know him, and he could very well be an ax murderer for all she knew.

But for some reason, she trusted him. She didn’t know why, but she knew—deep down, as if the knowledge was some sort of magical knowing—he wouldn’t hurt her. And yesterday, he’d promised he’d allow no harm to come to her on this journey.

Perhaps that’s why she trusted him.

Or maybe it was because of the way he teased her, or the look in his good eye when he’d offered his protection. As if she was important.

For a reason other than the way she looked.

Today at least, no one would look twice at her, not dressed as she was. In fact, she looked a proper match for someone like him with that ratty tam and the old kilt and dirt on his knees.

She eyed his legs, and realized they really were well-formed. What was wrong with them to cause his limp? She wondered if she’d have the courage to ask on this adventure.

Well, one thing was for certain: if she were wrong about him, and she needed to get away from him fast, she’d be able to outrun him, thanks to that limp.

Snorting quietly, she then muttered, “Likely no’ an ax-murderer.”

He suddenly jerked and whirled around, lifting his arms as if in defense. When he saw it was her, he tried to turn the motion into a little wave, as if he’d meant to do it. But when he saw her grinning at his attempt, he scowled and dropped his arms. “Ye snuck up on me.”

“No, ye just didnae hear me.”

Still scowling, he tapped the eyepatch over his left socket. “Nae depth perception, and I cannae see shite on this side.”

Strangely comforted—rather than scandalized—by his coarse language, Vanessa hefted her bag and cocked her head to one side. “That thing was on the other side yesterday, was it no’?”

He frowned, affronted. “I dinnae think so. Surely I’d remember which eye I’m missing, aye?” Turning again, he nodded to the train rolling slowly toward the platform. “Ye have our tickets?”

Raising her brow at his commanding tone, she reached for a pocket in her bag and pulled them out. He snatched them out of her hand, then reached for her bag. She had just enough time to wonder if she’d been wrong to trust him, when he suddenly thrust out his elbow.

She stared at it. He was acting as if…as if they were a couple. When she glanced at him, he merely gazed back, offering no excuses. But when she