10
Lance brightened as Theodora joined him by the coach. “There you are!” He lowered his voice. “Miss Simmons seems charming.”
Theodora’s new traveling companion stood by the coach talking to Conner, peering up at him with a mixture of awe and amazement. Dressed in a faded pelisse with a straw bonnet that framed her pretty face, the chaperone was much younger than Theodora had expected. Small and wren-like, with dark brown hair that curled about a heart-shaped face and soft blue-gray eyes, she wore a perpetually startled expression, as if she expected harshness from the world at large. “Miss Simmons appears quite young. She can’t be more than eighteen.”
“She’s twenty-three, although I would not have credited it when I first saw her, either. She seems younger because of her mannerisms.” Lance watched Miss Simmons a moment, his expression softening into a smile as he confided, “She reminds me of my sisters, who’ve had such sheltered lives that they seem younger than their ages.”
Theodora added drily, “Unlike me, who seems much older than my age because I’ve never been ‘sheltered.’ ”
He flushed. “No, no! I never said—”
“Oh, Lance!” She laughed, amused at his obvious alarm. “I was only teasing, although I’m sure I was never young for my age. With Papa dragging us from one end of the world to the other, and Mama always too ill to tend to things, I undertook a lot of responsibility at an early age. But I enjoyed it.”
Lance nodded thoughtfully. “Meanwhile, the opposite seems to be true for Miss Simmons. She was thrust into the world before she was ready. From something she let fall when she introduced herself, I believe that while her brother would like her to remain with him, his new wife is determined that should not be the case.”
“No! And that wretched woman has pushed the poor girl out of the house?”
“The sister-in-law was almost gleeful when she discovered I’d come to fetch Miss Simmons. It was deuced awkward.”
“Oh dear.” Aware that her own favorable circumstances were a matter of chance and birth, Theodora was always sympathetic to the plight of single women who’d been forced to find a position in order to make their way. There were so few respectable jobs available to women, and even fewer where they were not improperly importuned by their employers. “I was so dreading having a chaperone that I never thought if the position would be advantageous for the lady in question. I feel quite selfish.”
“You’re far from being selfish. I knew you’d feel for her once you realized her circumstances.” Lance captured Theodora’s hand and pressed a fervent kiss to it. “You are truly the kindest, the most giving woman I’ve ever met. You are perfect, truly perfect.”
Except she wasn’t. She was sometimes impatient and impetuous—and far, far too attracted to someone who wasn’t her fiancé. Her cheeks hot, she freed her hand. “You think too well of me. If you knew me better, you would never say such things.”
“I don’t hand out compliments easily. I mean what I say, and you are a good, caring woman. Indeed, your comportment is almost angelic.”
“Good heavens, Lance! Next you will be pinning wings on me in the mad belief I can fly! I’m no paragon of virtue—far from it.” Seeing his crestfallen look, she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, although she wished he saw her more realistically. “See, I’ve managed to make you miserable with just a few words. It would be my fault if you decided to leave me here to elope alone.”
He gave a reluctant laugh. “You do not count yourself highly enough. But I see it makes you uncomfortable when I mention such things, so I will say no more.”
“Good! Introduce me to this young girl you’ve hired. I fear I shall forget who is chaperoning whom.”
He chuckled, patting her hand as he led her forward. As soon as they reached Miss Simmons, the chaperone dipped a quick curtsy.
Lance smiled. “Miss Simmons, allow me to introduce Miss Cumberbatch-Snowe.”
“Oh! I’m so pleased! I cannot thank you enough for this opportunity, although I’m sorry to hear you were tossed into a ditch. How awful for you.”
Theodora caught Conner’s amused gaze. “Ah, so Mr. Douglas has been spreading tales, has he? Let me assure you that I’m perfectly fine now.”
“If that had happened to me, I don’t think I would ever get into a coach again.”
“But how would you travel?”
Miss Simmons shook her head. “I wouldn’t. Not even if the coach were made of gold and had diamond wheels. If one threw me into a ditch, I’d never set foot in it again.”
“We’ll hope you never end up in a ditch, then. Fortunately for us all, this new coach is more stable.”
“It’s a wonderful conveyance,” Lance said. “We will be most comfortable.” He turned to Conner. “Those grays are magnificent. I’ve never seen such a set.”
Conner eyed the horses with a satisfied air. “I paid far too much for them, but I cannae regret it.”
“Were they purchased from Tattersall’s? I so longed to go there when I was a youth, but sadly I never made it to London. Thus, I was left with the guidebooks that made the auction house seem like a heaven on earth.”
“ ’Tis a place like no other. And yes, that’s where I found them. They were the Duke of Devonshire’s. You’d never know him to be the wealthiest man in England, the way he bargained.”
That led Lance into recalling a spirited haggle he’d had over a pair of lumbering yard horses, and he described the exchange with enthusiasm.
While Lance talked, Theodora was aware of Conner’s gaze, which rested on her frequently. Her body quivered every time his attention turned to her. As difficult as it was, she made sure she hid every tremble and every flash of remembered passion, longing for the privacy of her room to indulge in a spate of deep, deep sighs. Things had changed so much in the last few days, and it had all begun with that first blasted kiss. Her feelings were so different from when she’d silently longed for him and he’d remained blissfully unaware.
Now, she longed for him in a new, even more devastating way. He was just so blasted appealing, with that direct gaze that made her shiver as she imagined—
“Theodora?”
She blinked and discovered Lance looking at her with an odd expression. She smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry. My mind wandered.”
Conner—blast him—smirked as if he knew exactly what she’d been thinking.
“Mr. Douglas and I were talking about horses and Miss Simmons said she did not ride, so I asked you the same.”
“Oh, I love to ride.”
“Thea is a capital rider,” Conner added.
Lance said, “I should have known you were a good rider. You’re good at everything you put your mind to.”
Miss Simmons appeared envious. “My brother has only two carriage horses, both so slow that my sister-in-law is forever vexed. I wish I knew how to ride, but frankly, horses frighten me. They’re just so large.”
Theodora tsked. “You’ve just never met the right horse. Once this journey is done and we’re home at Cumberbatch House, you may ride Dumpling. She’s a small, gentle mare.”
Lance laughed uneasily. “Theodora, we will not be going ‘home’ to Cumberbatch House, but to Poston.”
His words stopped her. “Oh—yes. Of course. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Somehow in the excitement of her elopement, Theodora hadn’t really thought about the specifics of what would happen afterward. About his home now being hers.
I’m never going home again. The thought was as final and heavy as a huge rock, and her heart squeezed unexpectedly. She loved Cumberbatch House and would miss it.
Conner’s eyes narrowed in concern. “You and the squire will visit Cumberbatch often,” he said softly. “Is it far away? I dinnae suppose it was.”
She grasped his words with relief. “No. It’s not far at all. An hour, no more.” Yes. She would visit Cumberbatch. She could indeed go home whenever she wished.
But it wouldn’t be the same.
“Of course you’ll visit.” Lance looked surprised she’d thought anything else. “I have a carriage, and Old Markham will be your driver. He’s not fast, and our set of grays not nearly as pretty as these, but they suffice. Naturally you can visit however often you wish. Although—” He smiled. “I will hope it will not be too often.”
“Of course!” She glanced up at the sky. “Oh, my. There are clouds to the north. It looks as if it might rain soon.”
“We should be on our way, then,” Lance announced.
“Here come the postboys with my trunk.” Theodora turned to Miss Simmons. “Let’s make sure they lash it on correctly; my clothes don’t need any more experiences with ditches.”
Conner watched as Thea led the chaperone away. The two of them made a pretty pair. Whereas Thea was tall, fair, slender of build, and exuded a natural confidence, Miss Simmons was tiny, brunette, and had a pretty but anxious face. He couldn’t imagine two women more different.
“Theodora will enjoy having a female to talk to.” The squire said it as if it were a fact merely because he’d announced it to be so.
“Hmm. Does Miss Simmons read?”
“Read? I don’t know. But she knits; her basket is in the coach.”
“Thea dinnae knit, nor does she embroider. Perhaps Miss Simmons gardens?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Then hopefully Miss Simmons has an excellent sense of humor. They will get along famously if she does.”
Lance’s brows drew together. “Theodora knows Miss Simmons is in an awkward position, so I’m sure they’ll deal just fine.”
“Thea is always polite,” Conner said far more sharply than he intended. At Lance’s surprised look, he added in a milder tone, “I hope Miss Simmons and Thea have something in common. Otherwise, they will chaff at being within the close confines of a coach for hours on end.”
“You need not worry about such.” Lance turned a fond glance to where Thea stood. “Theodora’s kind heart will never allow her to be small-minded or ungenerous. She is a paragon of feminine virtue.”
Conner frowned. While he knew better than anyone else that Thea was a remarkable woman, she wasn’t some dull portrait of impossible perfection. “I’ve known Thea for a long time, and while I appreciate her good qualities, she is nae a paragon, nor would I wish her to be.”
Lance’s gaze remained on Thea and he said with a decidedly proprietary air that irked Conner nigh to death, “My intended is a marvelous example of womanhood even though she may need coaching in some areas, which is perfectly understandable when one knows the deficiencies of her upbringing.”
“Deficiencies?”
“She has lived abroad much of her life and has become a bit more independent than is attractive. But I’m certain that once she’s settled at Poston House under the tutelage of my mother and sisters, Theodora will blossom into her true potential.”
Conner fought to contain his outrage over the man’s smug determination that Thea needed “coaching” of any kind. While she was far more colorful and much too lively to meet society’s narrow definition of “feminine virtue,” she didn’t need “coaching.” She had a sharp wit and a clever tongue, and although she struggled at times to curb them both at the same time, she was without question the kindest, most caring person he knew.
Obviously Lance did not feel the same way, which made Thea’s determination to marry him even more alarming. Worse, that determination seemed to grow by the minute. A chilling thought struck Conner. Bloody hell, am I pushing her toward a man who can’t understand her uniqueness, who would try to change her? Is my pursuit chasing her into the squire’s arms?
Conner’s gaze went to Thea and his chest tightened. She was beautiful, and fascinating, and intelligent, and Lance was a damned fool to not see and appreciate her as she was.
The trunks now secured, Thea and Miss Simmons rejoined the men.
Miss Simmons smiled at Conner. “Mr. Douglas, if we have your coach, how will you get on?”
“By horse. I’m headed to Wentlow Manor, which lies north of here.”
Lance looked surprised. “North? We are going the same direction, then.”
“So we are, although you will nae be going as far.”
“You’re more than welcome to accompany us—”
“No.”
Lance and Miss Simmons looked astonished at Thea’s outburst. She flushed and said in a stubborn tone, “Mr. Douglas is on a romantic mission and will not want us around. In fact, he’s on his way to visit a young lady, a mutual acquaintance of ours, and offer for her hand in marriage.”
Lance eagerly turned to Conner. “And you never said a word! Congratulations. I hope you will be quite happy.”
Conner shrugged. “I have to ask her first, although there are signs she’d nae refuse. She has indicated more than once that she’d welcome a relationship.”
“Ah, how we look for those hints. I was quite uncertain how Theodora would receive my offer of marriage. She never seemed anything more than fond of me.” The squire beamed at her. “Fortunately, she accepted my humble offer quickly and I was not left in agony for long.”
Thea flushed. “Yes, well, it’s getting late and we should be on our way.” For the first time since he’d come outside, she faced Conner, holding out her hand.
He took it in his, her fingers cool between his own. “I hope your journey will be pleasant and give you time to reflect—”
“I’m sure it will. Good-bye and good luck with your endeavor.” Stiff with haste, she pulled her hand free and hurried to Spencer, who waited by the coach door, ready to assist the ladies into their seats. He opened the door and pulled down the steps, and Thea disappeared into the coach.
With a breathless good-bye, Miss Simmons hurried to follow.
Lance tipped his hat. “Best of luck on your venture, Douglas.”
“And you.” Conner stepped back as the squire joined the ladies in the coach.
Spencer closed the door and, exchanging a knowing look with Conner, scrambled up onto the seat next to MacLeish, who set the horses in motion. Prancing, the team pulled the coach out of the inn yard.
Ferguson led Conner’s horse from the stable and came to stand with him, watching the coach lumbering down the road. “I thought for certain you’d have convinced the lass to accept your proposal by now.”
“She’s as stubborn as the Horn,” Conner returned tightly, taking the reins from Ferguson. “But I’ll fight this battle to the ends of the earth and back.”
“Guid for you, Cap’n. Show nae mercy! I’ll fetch the cart and we’ll be off.”
“Be quick aboot it. We’ve a distance to travel.” Conner couldn’t fathom it; how in the hell had a stiff-necked prosy bore like Lance worked his way into Thea’s good graces? Conner didn’t know. All he knew was that for a man supposedly taken with her, Lance knew damned little about her. Wouldn’t a man who was truly in love, not merely infatuated, accept his beloved as she was? And wouldn’t he learn everything he could about the woman he adored?
Wouldn’t he know her well enough to know she’d be insulted if he’d hired a chaperone or a servant of any kind without discussing it with her first?
Wouldn’t he know what sort of acquaintance his intended would converse comfortably with, and as an equal?
Wouldn’t he notice when she grew flushed in the presence of another man?
Wouldn’t he be tempted to watch her, to catch every nuance of her expression, to see when she was happy or worried or— Good God, everything?
Conner found himself doing those very things, and he wasn’t in love with Thea, nor promised to marry her.
It made no sense unless . . . was it possible the squire valued Thea not for her specific person but for some sort of abstract, romanticized concept of femininity? If so, the man was a bloody fool. Thea would never be comfortable being defined in such a way.
It boded ill for their marriage, and while Thea was beginning to share Conner’s concerns about her plans, she (and her pride) wasn’t yet willing to give up her elopement. It was good she was going to be shut up in a coach with the man—chatting chaperone, bad roads, and all.
Anna had always said that if you wished to truly know someone, travel with them. Flaws were amplified, nerves strained, luggage lost or forgotten, rains came and went—that was a true test of a relationship. He could almost hear Anna saying it now and he smiled wistfully at the thought, wishing for the thousandth time that he could ask her advice. But it was not to be.
Still, he thought his sister would agree with his plan thus far, or most of it, anyway. Thea had to make this decision herself, and all he could do was make sure she had the time to consider it from all angles. Whether she knew it yet or not, there was only one man she would be comfortable with, whom she could be herself with—and that was him.
Conner watched the coach taking the final turn and he realized he could no longer hear the horses’ hooves. He had to fight a very real desire to leap onto his horse, chase down the coach, plant a facer on the squire, throw Thea over his shoulder, and ride away with her into the sunset like a scene in an overly romantic play. She would kick and scream and call me a thousand ill names. Patience will win this, not drama.
The coach disappeared from sight, and Conner’s heart sank. He’d never felt more alone in his entire life.