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a
barrister from whom I’ve received training. Or, I could return to
Ireland to join Daniel. He’s become very successful and could use
another hand.” Looking at her: “For a while at least, I think I
shall remain in London. I might even consider making it my
home.”
    She wondered aloud, “Is that what your
cousin had in mind when he suggested you come here?”
    “Possibly. It might help the cause if there
were a few more of us Irish here. One day he will be a Member of
Parliament. It is inevitable. The Irish will demand it, as he
speaks for us.” Mr. O’Connell shrugged and shook his head. “What of you, Miss Collingwood? What will you do when the play is
concluded?”
    He glanced across the cabriolet at her, and
Rose found herself admitting things she normally wouldn’t. “I am
trying to enjoy what pleasure there is for me now without thinking
too far ahead. Though, you are right to ask. The play will soon be
done.”
    “Is it the acting you like?”
    “I have found much joy on the stage, but
mostly that is due to the part I am playing. I have come to realize
I am not a creature of the theatre as are some. I do not live for
the audience as my fellow actors do, and the repeated performances
with few nights off can be tedious. You smile at that. Why?”
    “I cannot see you there forever.”
    He seemed pleased by her plan to leave the
theatre, and that rankled. “Well, I could take another part.
Mr. Colman has suggested as much.”
    He turned his head for only a moment, but
suddenly the carriage was atilt and veering off to the right. Mr.
O’Connell tried to regain control, but the horse, mad with fright
and fighting the reins, careened toward a copse of trees. Rose
clung to the side of the carriage and then to him as they bounced
over the rough ground at breakneck pace. Her blood was
pounding.
    Mr. O’Connell pulled tightly on the reins,
slowing the cabriolet just as the wheel bounced off a tree and
shattered with the force of the impact, bringing the vehicle to an
abrupt stop. “Are you all right?” he asked Rose with concern. She
was righting herself in the seat.
    “Yes, I think so. What happened?”
    “It was my fault. I took my eyes off the
road and we struck a rock. Stay here while I have a look at the
damage.”
    “I’m coming with you,” Rose said firmly.
    Mr. O’Connell made no objection. He helped
her down from the tilting carriage, and together they stared at the
broken wheel as he stroked the horse and tried to calm the snorting
beast. At last he said, “My uncle’s townhouse is not far. There I
can summon help to repair this. We can ride the one horse
together—that is, unless you’d rather walk?”
    “It’s awfully cold,” she pointed out. She
was shivering, and he noticed.
    “Indeed it is cold. Best to ride then, I
think.” He looked discomfited by the situation, but it seemed there
were few options. “It won’t be very comfortable, but the horse will
get us there faster. There are spare wheels at the townhouse. And
while we wait for the repair, you can get warm by the fire.”
    Though she knew it to be improper, Rose was
not altogether unhappy with the arrangement that placed her in
front of the Irishman on his horse, albeit without benefit of
saddle. As she continued to shiver, he wrapped his heavy cloak
about them. She could feel his muscled chest at her back as he
skillfully guided the horse through the park. He made her feel safe
as few London men did. Most looked as if they needed protection.
Not Mr. O’Connell.
    Still, for all her comfort in his strength,
she knew they made a fine pair for onlookers. It was definitely not
wise for them to share a cloak no matter the bitter cold day, nor
for him to hold her so close, but she savored the moment
nonetheless, nestling into his warmth.
    Just as they left the copse of trees on the
edge of the park, a rider crossed their path on a large gray horse.
Her heart sank when she saw who it was. Alvanley . The
British lord