Chapter Ten
Stepping down, Eleanor breathed a sigh of relief as her legs, stiff from remaining so long in the same cramped position, slowly un-kinked. While the horses rested, she would take advantage of the welcome, albeit brief, respite from the close air in the box—and from the dreadful Lady Yarborough. An area of smooth grass ran along the wayside, away from the dust of the road. She made for it. “We’ve come farther on this leg of the journey than we did last year,” she remarked as Sorin joined her.
“Well, the weather appears to be cooperating, which helps,” he said, matching her stride as she marched along the hedgerow toward a shaded copse a little way beyond. “God willing, it will stay fair the whole of the journey.”
“If my prayers have any influence in heaven, it will,” she muttered, sending up another silent one.
“That bad?”
“Bad enough that I wish horses could fly.”
“If wishes were fishes,” he said, laughing. “I’ve heard it said that anticipation only lengthens the road.” His hazel eyes crinkled at the corners, the tanned flesh contrasting sharply with his white smile, making it appear all the brighter. Somewhere along the way, he’d removed his jacket and cravat and had loosened his shirt about the throat, leaving it bare. He must have gone without a cravat for an extended period of time recently, for the skin there was just as sun-kissed as that above.
To her shock, Eleanor found herself wondering if it was the same golden hue all the way down to—
“Wherever it is you’ve gone, it must be far away from here,” murmured Sorin.
Heat flooded her cheeks. “It’s not anticipation that makes me long for speed. I—I’m simply weary of riding in the coach.”
“A rather ill omen this early in the voyage, if I may say so,” he said, his smile widening a fraction. “But in light of your confession, perhaps my news will be welcome.”
“News? Do tell,” she replied, glad to latch onto anything that might distract.
“My mother is regretting her lack of a traveling companion and has asked me to invite you to share a seat in our coach. If you are amenable to the idea, of course.”
Amenable? She could have kissed him, she was so happy! An image of her flinging her arms about his neck and doing exactly that popped into her mind. Heat again flared in her face. For shame, Eleanor—discipline your mind! Whatever was the matter with her? Ever since the preposterous idea of marrying him had occurred to her, her thoughts had run wild. She struggled for composure. “I would be absolutely delighted to join her,” she said, privately wondering if her face would hereafter ever lack a blush in his presence.
“Excellent. Then I shall inform Charles and Rowena of the change and fetch your things.” His mouth twitched, and his eyes lit with amusement. “I’m sure Lady Yarborough will be glad of the additional space as well.”
He knows! The dam burst. “Oh, if you’d heard some of the things that woman said to me about—”
His laughter cut in, a low rumble that made her insides quiver in the oddest manner. “If she’s anything at all like her odious offspring, I can only empathize. Give me but a moment to relay my mother’s wishes and I shall rejoin you.”
The tension drained out of her as he turned and strode back to the coaches. Of course he would understand her. Despite his disapproving demeanor, she knew he’d always understood her, sometimes better than she understood herself. She watched him, marking that he took no time to linger but came back straightaway. “Has he been awful?” she asked as he approached, jerking her chin back toward Yarborough.
“Insufferable.” He offered his arm, which she took, and his smile returned as they began to walk. “Charles is praying for a plague to strike him dumb the length of our journey. Personally, I’m praying for something a bit more permanent.”
Smothering a laugh, she looked at him with sympathy. “If it is any consolation, I don’t believe they will be accompanying us for the return.”
“God willing,” he muttered. “If you should at some point discover otherwise, I beg you to send me warning so that I may make other arrangements.”
“I see. So you would leave me to suffer and endure while you make a merry road of your own?”
“Never,” he vowed. “I would find some way to include you in my escape.”
She all but squirmed beneath his gaze. It felt as if he were searching her soul, trying to fathom all of her secrets. The idea that he might somehow discern her recent, inappropriate thoughts concerning him made her palms sweat. She turned her attention to the path. Some blessed soul had planted a few trees just ahead and had erected a little bench in their shade.
Moving on before her, Sorin went and cleared it of leaves and debris.
How thoughtful and dear he was! Never had she met a more considerate man, not even her cousin. She doubted whether Yarborough would have done the same. Her back prickled unpleasantly, and she glanced behind her. Thankfully, no one had followed them. Everyone, including her bête noire, seemed otherwise occupied. Though they were in plain sight of anyone who cared to look, they were also quite alone.
With a glad heart she entered the cool shade. “Thank you,” she murmured, sitting on the freshly swept bench.
Sorin stood before her, the dappled sunlight on his hair highlighting little glints of gold amid the darker brown waves. A breeze ruffled through it, lifting it from his brow. “Eleanor, I wish to ask you something,” he said at last, his manner solemn. “I meant to do so before we left for London, but I’ve been unable to get a moment in private with you until now.” He let out an awkward laugh. “I would not have the courage if I did not know for certain that you above all people will answer me with absolute sincerity.”
“Of course I will,” she promised, mystified.
“My mother has adjured me to take a wife, but the truth is that I find myself in the awkward position of having been out of circulation for what is undoubtedly a lengthy amount of time.” His brow furrowed. “I simply don’t know how to court a lady anymore—things have changed so much since I wooed Jane. At the least, I fear I shall appear antiquated and dull. At worst, I fear I’ll become a laughingstock. I require guidance.”
“Guidance?” An incredulous laugh escaped her. “Surely you cannot look to me for advice. I’m hardly qualified, given that I’ve decided never to marry.” The words had a bitter tang of deceit now that she was indeed considering exactly that course of action.
His lips pressed together for a moment. “If I am to succeed in bringing home a bride, I require a modern female perspective on courtship, and you are the only one I trust.”
He trusted her, and all she could think of was how to use his situation to her advantage. Some friend I am! She resolved not to do it, not to sacrifice their friendship to her childish desire to remain in Somerset. He deserves better from me. “What of your mother? I’m certain she would be happy to make some suitable arrangement for you.”
“Modern, Ellie,” he reminded her gently. “Please say you’ll help me?”
His quiet plea pierced her. Unable to look at him, she closed her eyes. “Very well,” she answered at last. I’m such a fool. How could I have ever imagined he might want to marry someone like me? “If that is your wish, then so be it. I will try.”
“Thank you,” he said, sounding relieved.
She opened her eyes and stared dully at the ground. “I think we should return,” she said, forcing herself to look up and back to where the rest of their party was gathered.
Her stomach clenched and began to churn. Yarborough was staring straight at her, and even at this distance she could tell he was angry. In an instant, her upset transformed into cold fury. He had no claim on her whatsoever and no right to be jealous! Her thoughts raced. There had to be a way to dissuade the beastly man.
Sorin cleared his throat, and Eleanor realized there was a way—and it was standing right in front of her. If Sorin wanted to use her knowledge to help him obtain a bride, then she would use him to rid herself of a nuisance.
Dredging up a smile she hoped looked genuine, she again addressed him. “I’m honored by your trust. But if you wish my assistance in this most delicate matter, then we must contrive a means by which we may be allowed to spend time together in privacy so that I may instruct you.”
“That should prove easy enough.”
“Oh? Why is that?” she said with a frown, forgetting for a moment that she was supposed to look happy for the sake of their audience.
“Charles has already enlisted my agreement to escort you this Season.”
Two minutes ago, she would have been pleased to no end to hear such news. Now, however…“Does he think me incapable of behaving appropriately on my own?”
“Not at all,” he said smoothly. “He meant no insult, I assure you. In fact, it is a mark of his confidence in you that he does not feel impelled to safeguard you himself.”
“I don’t see why I need to be ‘safeguarded’ at all,” she muttered, not caring anymore if she sounded like a recalcitrant child.
“Because he does not wish you to be left alone and vulnerable while he is otherwise occupied.”
“Occupied? What in heaven’s name would…” She stopped. “Caroline.” She knew it for a certainty, even before he confirmed it with a nod. “And you are the only person Charles trusts with me while he and Rowena keep close watch on her.”
“Yes.”
Which led to another question, one she almost dared not ask. “And what will people say when you and I are seen much about Town together?”
“That your cousin has saddled you with an old hound to keep the young pups at bay,” he drawled. “I’ll be exceedingly flattered should anyone assume differently.”
If she had her way, that was exactly what they would do, right up until the moment he proposed to someone else. In the meantime, Yarborough would give up on her and find a new target for his ambitions. It’s perfect! She hugged the thought to herself and kept it locked away where it wouldn’t show on her face. “Well, given the fact that he’s been badgering me to marry, I would have thought him happy to allow me a bit more leash.”
“Oh, don’t mistake his intentions. Your cousin wants you married—but he also wishes to make certain you marry the right sort of man.”
“And he trusts you to make that determination, does he?”
“Like him, I have your best interests at heart. He knows this.”
Heat rose in her cheeks again. “Perhaps he’s right, at that. And after all, you do know my standards.” It was a rash thing to say, and she knew it. But it couldn’t be unsaid. She softened. “If any gentleman is able to pass muster with you as his judge, I say let him come forth and seek to win me.”
His hazel eyes hardened. “If any man is able to pass muster with me as his judge, he will be a remarkable fellow indeed, for it will be most difficult for me to deem any man worthy of you.” He blinked and the strange, almost savage look was gone before she could question it.
Charles could not have given her a more protective guardian. With any luck, Sorin’s watchful presence at her side in London would stave off any serious pursuit. A faint call made her look back to the coaches, where Charles was waving to signal their impending departure.
Sorin, taking note, offered her his arm.
She groped for words to make small talk as they walked back together, but all pleasantries seemed to have vanished from her vocabulary. Neither did he deign to speak. The air between them seemed heavy with unspoken thoughts, and her conscience pricked her.
Am I doing the right thing?
“Your essentials have been transferred to Lady Wincanton’s carriage,” said her cousin as they approached.
“Thank you, Charles.” Lady Yarborough, who looked as if she’d just swallowed something bitter, glared at her as she passed. Had she lacked better manners, Eleanor would have stuck her tongue out and asked her how she liked being excluded. Instead, she settled for sailing by with her head high. Lord willing, Sorin’s mother would find her company pleasant enough that she wouldn’t be required to ride with Lady Yarborough again. The thought was reinforced as they passed her son, who was complaining stridently about the dust ruining the shine on his boots.
“Now, if only it would contrive to rain,” murmured Sorin for her ears only as he walked beside her.
“You would prolong our suffering?” she replied just as quietly, though they’d already passed out of earshot.
The grin he shot her was devilish. “I would claim a seat aboard my own conveyance, naturally. Owing to its smaller compartment and my mother’s need for leg room—her joints ache terribly if she does not stretch every now and again—Charles and Yarborough would have to ride in the other.”
“I see. What an unfortunate arrangement for Charles and Rowena,” she mused with a little devilishness of her own.
“Indeed. But as they were the ones to extend the invitation, I feel they ought to bear the majority of the consequences, don’t you?”
So droll and full of mischief was his manner that she couldn’t help laughing. “Though I quite agree, you are wicked to actually say it.” She glanced back to see Lady Yarborough shaking a chubby finger first at a footman and then at a piece of luggage—presumably hers—tied atop the coach. The woman was honking orders to have it brought down at once. Charles stood by, watch in hand, looking rather put out. She turned back to Sorin with a grimace. “Instead of praying for rain, I think we ought to pray for a miracle—in the form of another coach for hire.”
Though he laughed at her sharp jest, Sorin shot a quick, silent prayer heavenward. Please let it rain! His mother would be with them in the coach of course, but it would still be another opportunity to be close to Eleanor.
A month, he vowed. One month, and he would make her see him as more than a fusty bachelor. More than just an old friend.
He had not missed the black look on Yarborough’s face. It was brash of the young whelp to direct such open malice at him, but such were the vagaries of youth. There was no love in the man’s heart for Eleanor, of that much he was certain. His designs on her were driven purely by the potential for gain. She knew it, too, he suspected.
As they approached his carriage, he surreptitiously waved the waiting servant off so that he could hand her up himself. Before he could do so, however, Eleanor turned to him as if about to say something, but then appeared to change her mind. His eye was drawn to where the white pearls of her teeth clamped down on her rosy bottom lip.
Hoping to ease the tension, he whispered, “I’ll check in on you and Mother from time to time to make certain you don’t get gobbled up.”
“Thank you,” she replied in a small voice, looking down. “I’ll do my best to be good company for her.”
“You are always good company, Ellie,” he said as he opened the carriage door. A shy smile was his reward. He returned it, extending his hand and enjoying their brief touch as he helped her step up on the sideboard. It was a wrench having to leave her, but it couldn’t be helped.
His mother poked her head around and fixed him with a questioning look. “You did send ahead to the inn, yes? They expect us?”
“Charles said his man returned two days ago,” he replied with a subtle nod, answering her unspoken inquiry as well. “Arrangements have been made at all overnight stops.”
“Excellent. I shall require hot water to be brought to my room immediately upon arrival, and I shall want dinner sent up. I will be too exhausted for words by the time we reach the place.” She shifted a little and winced, ruining the effect of her imperious demands. “When we reach London, I shall ask you to have an upholsterer refurbish the cushions in this carriage,” she added. “The padding is inferior and needs replacing.”
“I beg your pardon, Mother. I’ll do so and order extra care with the stuffing. For now, I’ll have some pillows and blankets brought down.” Ignoring his mother’s spluttering, half-hearted objections, he summoned a servant. From the corner of his eye, he saw the tiniest smile of approval curl the corner of Eleanor’s mouth.
“Ladies, I leave you in good hands,” he said as the servants began to bring the requested items. Now to ready himself for the next leg of the day’s journey. From the look on Yarborough’s face, it was likely to be an arduous affair. Resigned, he made his way back up front.
“Lady Eleanor is well, I hope?” asked Yarborough.
“Quite.” He took grim satisfaction in the grimace of displeasure that furrowed the other man’s brow. Without another word, he mounted and moved to the fore to join Charles.
“How are things?” his friend asked quietly.
“Perfectly adequate, save for a complaint concerning the relationship between posterior and cushion.”
“I meant between you and Eleanor.”
Sorin stared at him, unsure how to respond.
Charles chuckled. “Come now, I’m not blind. I know the pair of you had a disagreement of some sort. And so does Yarborough, for that matter. I assume it was quickly resolved?”
“Oh, that. Yes. Merely a small misunderstanding.”
“You two seem to be experiencing a number of those lately. I certainly hope it won’t impede your ability to keep an eye on her in London.”
“It won’t. In fact, that was the subject of our discussion. I had to tell her.”
“What? I thought we were agreed not to—”
“She objected, of course,” Sorin cut in with a shrug. “But once she understood why you made such a request of me, she was amenable to the idea.” He pinned Charles with a look. “She is very much aware of her friend’s propensity for scandal and agreed that preventive measures must be taken.”
“Well, thank God for that!” said Charles, relief spreading across his face. Then his eyes narrowed suddenly. “I hope this is not some ruse on her part, pretending cooperation now only to lead us a merry chase later. She is most displeased over our plans for her this Season.”
“She’ll be perfectly well behaved, I assure you.” He hoped. “And I will ensure that the gentlemen seeking her company are mindful of their manners as well.” He glanced back to see Yarborough coming toward them, his face as sour as vinegar. He must have gotten quite an earful from his mother. “Speaking of which, here comes our new friend.”
At once, Charles whistled and waved his hand to signal the lead rider to move out before the lad could catch up to them.
Sorin didn’t bother to stifle his amusement this time, either.