Ida reached out and touched Sheldon’s hand, her eyes moist. “That is terrible. Here,” she said, digging into her pocket and withdrawing some change. “Take this. For your Mam and your siblings.”
“I couldn’t,” the boy said, even as his fingers were closing over the money.
“You can,” Ida said in a firm tone. “You will.” She looked at Bennett. “It isn’t right that this family suffers because of an accident, is it?” It was a demand, not a question. “This is the kind of thing your efforts prevent, I hope?” she asked.
Bennett swallowed. Yes. All those people, all those families, depending on his work and the family’s support so they could live and even thrive. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, it is.”
“Can I get you tea? Toast?” Sheldon asked as he wiped his eyes.
Bennett nodded.
“Please, Sheldon. And thank you,” she added, offering another warm smile.
Bennett leaned across the table after Sheldon had returned to the kitchen. “You do know that you have drastically reduced our funds,” he informed her. “Thankfully it seems we won’t need to be on the road for too much longer. Are you always this impet—never mind, I know the answer.”
She wrinkled her nose at him.
“Hedgehog,” he said.
“It is the right thing to do, and you know it. How can we listen to something like that and not do something?”
Oh. She would do something, wouldn’t she? Always.
She must have read his expression accurately, since she lifted her chin, all of her prickly demeanor on display. “Another reason why it is such a good thing we will not, in fact, be married. Can you imagine what would happen when one of your fellow lords—one not as caring as you—makes a comment about the undeserving poor or disparages an effort I’ve supported?” She shook her head. “You would not want a wife like that.” She snorted. “I imagine even Charles Dickens would find me too opinionated on occasion. Your soft and welcoming female would never embarrass you in that way.”
Nor would she inspire me to greatness, Bennett thought.
“Nor would you want a husband who had to associate with that type of person, I assume.”
She lifted her chin even higher. “Of course not.”
His prickly, forthright, opinionated hedgehog. She would never compromise on anything. Something he should keep in mind when regretting not being able to spend the rest of his life with her.
“What do you mean the carriage is gone?” Bennett took a step closer to the innkeeper, whose belligerent expression grew more truculent.
“My boy took care of your horses, and then went to bed. When he got up this morning, everything was gone.” The man shrugged, as though it was an everyday occurrence. Perhaps it was, and Bennett was an idiot for having stopped here. But they had no choice.
“Are there any conveyances for hire?” Ida interrupted.
Not that they had enough money, Bennett thought. Since Ida had handed most of it over to Sheldon, who was standing by the doorway, his mouth hanging open as he watched the discussion.
The innkeeper shook his head. “Nothing out here. It’s not as though this village is overflowing with fancy traveling rigs like yours.”
“Probably why ours was taken,” Bennett said in a bitter tone.
“You can wait and send for the magistrate if you want. He normally stops by once a week. He was here day before last, so he should be here in five days.”
“Five days!” Ida exclaimed. “We cannot wait five days. We have to get to where we’re going now.”
Bennett turned to look at her, her eyes wide and pleading, her voice shaking with emotion. How could he deny her the chance to see her sister as soon as possible? Besides which, there was the whole “enough funds” thing.
“We’ll have to walk.”
Ida threw her hands up. “I don’t care if I have to crawl. I have to get there.”
Bennett looked at her for one more moment, taking in her determination, her fierce commitment, and knew there was nothing he would do to prevent her from seeing Della as soon as they could get there. Even if he had to carry her.
“Fine.” He strode over to their bags, which they’d brought out into the courtyard. “We’ll need to take only what’s absolutely necessary,” he said as he crouched down and opened his valise. He took out his torn nightshirt, his mood lightening as he recalled just how it ended up shredded in two.
Although now it meant he had no nightshirt. So there was that.
“I don’t need much of anything,” Ida said as she knelt beside him, opening her own bag. He appreciated how well she was able to adapt—most young ladies would need no fewer than three trunks to gallivant around the countryside.
Granted, she had left on impulse, bringing only the clothing she was wearing. But still.
“Here,” she said, holding up one of her serviceable gowns toward Sheldon. “Your mother can likely use this.”
The boy stepped forward and took the garment, his eyes wide in astonishment.
Bennett bit his tongue before suggesting perhaps they could sell the gown for some extra money. It wasn’t as though this town appeared to be a place where people would have enough to purchase used clothing from impulsive young ladies.
So in that spirit—“Here,” Bennett said, taking one of his shirts out from the bag, “this might fit you in a year or so.” Sheldon took the shirt and folded it over his arm.
“Thank you,” he said in a wondering voice. “I didn’t know that—I wasn’t sure that there were people who would—” And then he blinked rapidly, looking down at the ground.
“Get to work, boy!” the innkeeper yelled from across the yard. “And you, if you don’t need food or another night’s lodging, you two can be on your way.”
Bennett put his hand over Ida’s mouth as she opened it to reply. “There is no point to it. He’ll just end up being meaner to Sheldon here, since we will be long gone.”
Her lips were warm on his palm. She glared at him, and he held her gaze until eventually she gave a reluctant nod.
So perhaps his termagant could be tamed. Good to know.
She swung her arms as she walked, glad not to be in that miserable village any longer, even though now they had to walk all the way to Haltwhistle.
He was beside her, taking one stride for two of hers. He did have very long legs. She sighed as she thought about them, and about the night before.
His voice interrupted her sensual recollections, and she felt herself start to blush. Ridiculous, Ida. You are both agreed as to what this is, and you should not be embarrassed. Even though she absolutely was.
Because, apparently, she was more of a traditional young lady than she realized. Did that mean she also wanted what traditional young ladies did? Marriage and children and all of that?
But he was speaking, thank goodness, so she couldn’t ponder that.
“Have you thought more about your plans if you are able to persuade your sister to return with you?”
“When I am able to persuade my sister to return with me,” Ida corrected, sounding much more confident than she felt.
“When. Of course.” He spoke in the tone he used when he called her a hedgehog, and she wished he were wrong—but no, she was being prickly again. She could admit that, at least to herself.
But she was his hedgehog.
Oh, no. No, she wasn’t. She was her own hedgehog? That sounded entirely odd.
“I expect that our parents will refuse to have anything to do with us,” Ida said matter-of-factly. “Unless we are somehow able to pull off some sort of reputation miracle, we will be on our own. But we’ll be together, and it will be wonderful.” Now she did feel as confident as she sounded. She hadn’t valued family as much before, but as soon as Della had left, she and her sisters had begun to support one another, so much so that Ida had made herself a spectacle in society to ensure her sister Eleanor could have time to find her own happiness.
That Ida’s happiness was likely
to be loving books and her sisters rather than in a marriage was that thing she couldn’t consider right now.
He hadn’t replied, she realized. “Do you think it’s a stupid plan?” she asked. Drat, she had never cared what people thought of her or her ideas before.
“Nothing you could possibly think of would ever be stupid,” he said, making her chest relax. “Except for, perhaps, stealing a carriage without a clue about how you plan to accomplish what you want.”
She laughed, nudging him in the ribs with her elbow.
“But I want you to do what you think is right.”
“Thank you. I haven’t figured out how we’ll live.”
“I am certain you and your remarkable brain will think of something,” he replied.
She turned to him and smiled. “That is a lovely thing to say.”
Dear lord. That smile. She’d smiled at him, and it was as though a billion stars shot through the darkness to light up the night. He never wanted to stop seeing that smile.
Damn it.
He’d done it.
He’d gone and fallen in love with his prickly hedgehog, the woman whose future plans most definitely did not include him.
Why did he have to go and fall in love with the one woman in the world who didn’t want him? Who wasn’t a Carson-hunter? Who couldn’t compromise, even if it meant their happiness?
He wished he could just stop in the middle of the road and howl his frustration, but he wouldn’t slow her down just because he was anguished and in love.
God damn it. He couldn’t even tell her, because he knew her first obligation was to her sister, and he wouldn’t muddle her mission up with his admission of love.
And even if he told her, he had no idea if she reciprocated. Neither one of us has any expectation that it means any more than it does, she’d said.
He had no basis for thinking any of that had changed. Yes, the night before, they had found pleasure together—the thought of how she looked and sounded as she climaxed was enough to get him hard, even in the throes of love-soaked agony—but that didn’t mean she would welcome his proposal.
She’d likely be stunned to receive it, in fact; hadn’t he told her he wanted someone soft and gentle as a wife? He winced as he thought about it.
“Are you all right?” she asked, interrupting his thoughts. Thank god.
“Fine, yes.” He glanced up at the sky, grateful there was something to comment on. “It looks as though it might rain.”
She lifted an eyebrow as though to call him out on his obvious comment, but refrained, instead peering up and nodding. “It does. How much longer do you suppose we have to go?”
Bennett shifted the bag from one hand to the other as he thought. “Maybe another two hours? Do you need to rest or—or do anything else?”
She chuckled. “I am fine. I can feel a blister forming, but I should be—”
“Let me look at it,” he interrupted, dropping the bag. If he couldn’t tell her he loved her, he could at least take care of her while they were together. “Sit down there,” he ordered, pointing at a log that lay to the side of the road they were on.
“So bossy,” she murmured, but she did as he’d said, lowering herself to the log and beginning to remove her shoe.
He knelt down in front of her, swatting her hands away as he undid her shoe. There was the beginning of a blister there, right on her big toe, and he took her foot in his hand and began to rub her instep.
“Mmm,” she said. “That feels wonderful. I am not certain it is helping the blister, but it feels fantastic.”
He rubbed her foot for a few more minutes, then let go to undo his cravat. “Here, we can put this around that area. It might protect your skin.”
He wrapped the fabric around her foot, tucking it in on itself so it would stay in place. He picked up her shoe and slid her foot back into it, making sure the fabric remained tight.
“You are so clever,” she said, and the impact of her words were as though she’d smiled at him all over again.
“I cannot believe the redoubtable Lady Ida has just told someone else that they were clever,” he replied, getting to his feet and holding his hand out for her to rise as well.
“I have told you many times you are clever,” she retorted. “Haven’t I?”
“I suppose. I like to hear you say it, though.”
“You are so clever, my lord. My leopard,” she said with a grin.
She stood, leaning into him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He slid his arm around her waist and yanked her up against his body, relishing the feel of her soft curves as he lowered his head to hers.
Fine, so he wouldn’t offer her protestations of love, but he could kiss her, and that would have to do for now.
Ah, this was what she’d been missing all day. His kiss. Them together, his body pressed into hers, that part of him making its presence known against her belly.
She raked her nails down his back, as she knew he liked, her mouth tilting up as he groaned.
She bit gently on his lip, then slid her tongue inside his mouth where it found his tongue, and she sucked on it as she slid her nails down, grabbing hold of his firm arse and squeezing.
His hands were at her waist, sliding up her body to find her breasts, and her body went all tingly as he palmed them in his hand. Her breasts felt fuller and so, so sensitive, and she wished she had known all this the night before when they had been in bed together.
Just the thought of him touching her bare breasts as his fingers worked their magic down there was enough to make her moan, and she pushed up against him, kissing him fiercely, ferociously, until his mouth, his touch, his body were all she could think of.
“God, Ida,” he said, breaking the kiss as he lowered his mouth to her neck. She raised her head to give him better access, and he took it, licking and sucking her skin as his hands rubbed her breasts, his fingers dragging across her nipples, which felt achingly responsive.
“Touch me,” she whispered, and he slid his fingers down into her gown, finding her nipple and pinching it between his fingers, making her feel a delicious agony.
A past Ida, an Ida who hadn’t kissed him, who hadn’t touched him or been touched by him, would have said this constant wanting, this need, was irrational. That it didn’t make sense for someone to be so consumed with passion.
But it was rational; all of this made her feel better than she’d ever felt in her life, and it was natural, it was rational, to want to continue to experience it. To experience him.
He slid his palm to lift her breast up and out of her gown, the air on her skin making her shudder.
And then she shuddered even more as he moved his mouth down, his lips on her nipple, his tongue licking her, making her arch her back.
More. She wanted more.
She could feel him, hard and erect against her body, and she moved her hand so it was between them, rubbing that firmness as he continued to suck her nipple.
“God, Ida,” he said again, and she traced the outlines of him with her hand as he rocked his hips forward.
She heard a noise, and didn’t know if it was him or her, she just succumbed to the feeling, the emotions swirling through her body, each one of his touches making her shiver, until—
Crack!
They sprang apart at the sound of the lightning, both of them immediately looking up into the storm-darkened sky.
And then the rain started as they heard the thunder, a mild rain that turned into a torrent within moments.
She spared a moment to think ruefully about her previous refusal to discuss the weather. If they had discussed it more in depth, perhaps they wouldn’t have just been startled by a storm. Then again, it would have meant they wouldn’t have been kissing.
Ida yanked her gown back up as Bennett sprinted toward their bag, picking it up and tucking it under his arm before returning to her.
He held his hand out, rain already streaming down his face, and she took it, shaking her skirts out
as she started to run. Feeling an irrepressible urge to laugh, despite it all. Or perhaps because of it all.
“We should find shelter,” he shouted as another bolt of lightning sizzled across the sky.
“Why didn’t I think of that?” she retorted, and he laughed, shaking his head as rain streamed off his head.
Eventually, Ida had to slow; Bennett looked inquiringly at her, then slowed his own pace down.
He was still holding her hand, and it felt as though that was the only warmth she was experiencing. Her feet hurt, her hair was sopping wet, her whole self felt as though it had been submerged in a rain barrel.
A good reminder never to mock weather discussions again. Or, at the very least, make certain an umbrella was included in the essential items needed when one left London in search of an errant sister.
She’d make a note of that for next time.
“I see a farmhouse up ahead,” he said, nodding toward that direction. “Hopefully we can persuade the people there that we’re not dangerous. I’m sure we look terrifying,” he added with a smile. His hair was plastered against his head, and she could see raindrops on his eyelashes. The rain had lessened, but it was still steady, and Ida was entirely and thoroughly soaked.
At least she wasn’t thinking about her blister anymore.
“You do look terrifying. I’m certain I do as well.”
His eyes found hers. “You look beautiful, as you always do,” he said in a quieter tone, so low she wasn’t certain he’d actually said it.
But his expression and how his hand tightened on hers confirmed that he had. And now her hand wasn’t the only warm thing; her heart felt all melty inside her chest as her body responded to the compliment.
The only person who had ever commented on her appearance was her mother, who had admonished her to be less . . . less, whatever that meant.
But his words were sincere, even though she knew she was drenched and likely looked like a drowned rat. And it didn’t matter, she felt beautiful. Even if she also felt soaked through.
“Let’s go,” he said, walking swiftly as she followed.
Chapter 13
The Lady Is Daring Page 14