The vicar’s brows shot up over the rims of his spectacles. “You walked here? Oh dear. I didn’t consider.” He looked about him. “I can’t think where my son has got to, but— Ah! Here is Mr. Archer.”

Laura looked up with a start. Mr. Archer was coming up the aisle toward them, his tall beaver hat in his hand.

“Mrs. Bainbridge has taken a turn, I fear,” the vicar told him. “Can I trouble you to drive them home in the gig?”

“Oh no,” Aunt Charlotte objected. “I wouldn’t dream of imposing—”

“I’ll hear no objections.” The vicar smiled. “Mr. Archer would be only too happy to oblige, wouldn’t you, sir?”

Mr. Archer inclined his head. “Of course. I’ll fetch the gig from the stable.”

Laura sat with Aunt Charlotte until he returned. He didn’t send someone to tell them he and the gig were ready. Instead, he came back into the church himself and offered Aunt Charlotte his arm.

“Mrs. Bainbridge? If you’d care to lean on me?”

Aunt Charlotte took hold of his arm gratefully. “Thank you, Mr. Archer. I confess, I feel quite undone.”

Laura walked along with them, eyeing her aunt with worry. The gig was waiting at the gates, the padded seat only big enough for two. She took a step backward. “If you’ll drive my aunt back to the cottage, I’ll join her there presently.”

Mr. Archer’s gaze jerked to hers. “You mean to walk back?”

“Yes, I— Oh!” She emitted an unladylike squeak as he caught her round the waist and tossed her up onto the seat. Her skirts billowed about her. “There isn’t room,” she protested. “I don’t mind walking—”

“We’ll fit,” he said grimly.

And they did.

Though it meant that Laura was pressed shoulder to knees against Mr. Archer’s side the entire way home. She scarcely drew breath until he stopped the gig in front of the cottage and jumped down. When next she looked at him, he was vaguely red about the collar. Perhaps he’d felt the discomfort of it, too? The peculiar sensation of being so close to a person of the opposite sex. A person that one was strangely attracted to. That one had kissed.

Then again, perhaps it was only the heat?

He helped Aunt Charlotte down from the gig.

Laura didn’t wait for him to help her, too. She caught her skirts up to one side and leapt down herself. Mr. Archer shot her a dark look. “I’ll run ahead and get one of the servants,” she said.

By the time she ran through the gates and up the path, John Yardley was already at the door. She quickly explained what had happened, and with his assistance, she and Mr. Archer got Aunt Charlotte into the house and up the stairs to her bedroom.