We reached the carriage and George opened the door for me. I checked for Jacob but he stayed back near the school's porch. "Are you coming?" I asked.
He shook his head.
I wanted him with me, holding my hand, telling me everything would be all right. I wanted him away from Blunt. I wasn't entirely sure he could be trusted not to return and... "Please, Jacob, come home with me."
He stalked across the space between us and slammed his hand against the side of the carriage, right near my head. George looked around as if he couldn't detect where the sound had come from.
I swallowed my squeal of fright and blinked at Jacob.
He stood close to me, his palm flat on the carriage, his forearm skimming the brim of my hat. He leaned down until our faces were level. "I told you last night," he said in that quiet, malevolent voice of his. "I'm dangerous. You should stay away from me."
And then he was gone and all that was left was the pounding of my heart and the background noise of
George's voice as he spoke words that I couldn't quite hear.
"I can't," I whispered to the emptiness. "I can't stay away."
***
All I wanted to do when I got home was climb into bed and reflect on everything Jacob had told me that day. Unfortunately Celia bombarded me with questions over a dinner of roast pork in the dining room instead.
"Well? How did it go today?" she asked, popping a single pea into her mouth. Why did she always have to eat them one at a time? She couldn't be trying to impress anyone with her delicate eating habits since I was the only one there.
"Leviticus Price wasn't much help," I said. "He couldn't recall when he spoke to Blunt precisely."
"Oh. Yes of course."
I eyed my sister, a pile of peas balanced precariously on my fork near my mouth. "That is what you meant, isn't it?"
"Well...partly."
I frowned as I chewed my peas. Celia was being coy about something and she was not usually a coy person. Except on one subject. "Ah. You mean did I have a nice outing with George Culvert?"
"Now that you mention it, how are you faring with him?"
Faring? "We get on well enough."
"I see," Celia said as she cut off a small slice of pork. I put my knife down with a clank on the plate. She looked up from her dinner. "Is something wrong, Em? You're not finished. Aren't you hungry?"
I leaned over my plate to get closer to her, even though the large dining table kept us well apart. "I know what you're doing," I said.