by Liana Lefey
He smiled grimly. It appeared things were going as well for the ladies as they were for the gentlemen. Drawing alongside his own carriage, he tapped on the window. The curtain twitched aside, revealing his mother’s annoyed countenance. A moment later, one of the smaller side windows opened.
“What is it? Have we encountered a problem?”
“All is well, Mother,” he assured. “I simply wanted to be sure of your comfort.”
A frosted brow lifted. “Comfort is not something one associates with travel.” Her gaze flicked over his face and narrowed. “I sense there is another reason why you abandoned Ashford. Is the Yarborough fellow really so intolerable?”
There was no point in hiding it. “He shall count himself fortunate if I don’t throttle him before our journey’s end.”
“How glad I am that I did not offer to share my conveyance.” Amusement lit her eyes.
A laugh forced its way out before he could stop it. “I’d vow the ladies of Holbrook are wishing they’d kept to themselves, too.”
“Oh?”
“I chanced to overhear a rather heated conversation as I passed their coach,” he confessed, unable to help smiling. “Eleanor was delivering a rather impassioned denunciation. I believe I heard her use the term ‘vermin’.”
“If things have begun to deteriorate at this early juncture, it is doubtful they will make it to London with any civility intact.” Her lips pursed. “Perhaps I ought to have Eleanor join me. What think you?”
“I think such an invitation would be received with much gratitude,” he said at once.
“So be it. Ask her—ah, just Eleanor, if you please—to join me when we stop. Until then, I shall rest.” Without further comment, she withdrew and the window snapped shut.
Smiling, Sorin made his way back up front. As he passed the other carriage, he heard Rowena’s voice, though it remained low enough that her words were indistinguishable. Hopefully, she’d be able to smooth things over. He restrained a sigh as he approached the head of the line. Yarborough was still blathering on.
Charles glanced at him as he drew up, scowling. “Great galloping galligaskins, will he never cease?” he muttered. “We have six days of this to endure.”
“Cheer up,” Sorin said with a grin. “Eventually, he’ll run out of things to say about himself.”
A soft snort erupted from Charles. “I’d be slow to lay any wagers on it. I fear our only hope lies in the sudden onset of a malady of the throat. One severe enough to keep him hoarse until London,” he added, his scowl deepening.
Sorin didn’t bother smothering his laughter even when Yarborough turned to peer at them curiously. He didn’t offer any explanation for his outburst either. Let the oaf think what he would and continue acting like an ass. Sir Yarborough’s conduct would only serve to drive Eleanor away—hopefully straight into his waiting arms. If I can manage to make her see me as more than a friend, that is. And then there was the matter of convincing Charles not to run him through.
He wouldn’t be the only one to ask for Eleanor’s hand, of that much he was certain. Yarborough was quite obviously seeking to impress her family. No doubt he would approach Charles with hat in hand soon after they reached London. But Sorin knew all the boasting in the world would not avail him. If the look on Charles’s face was any indication, he was already developing a passionate dislike for their new traveling companion.
“Did I tell you that Lord Winthrop invited me to dine with him and his family next week?” Yarborough called back, eliciting a low groan from Charles. “He was an old friend of my father’s. It is my hope that he’ll support my ambition to take a seat in the Commons.”
Now that was a surprise.
“Did he just say that he plans to become a Member of Parliament?” whispered Charles, clearly just as taken aback as he was.
“I believe he did.”
“God help us all.”
“I do hope you’ll both support me as well,” continued Yarborough loudly, flashing a winning grin at them over his shoulder.
“In a pig’s eye,” said Charles through his teeth as he smiled back and nodded.
Sorin kept his mouth shut and pondered this news in silence. Unless he’d by some unknown means increased his family’s worth, Yarborough couldn’t run for a seat. His father had sold off too much of their property in recent years for him to be eligible. Something wasn’t right. The fellow was throwing around money like he had no end of it, and now he was boasting about his plans to enter into politics. Something had certainly changed his income and prospects, but what?
“I’ve been meaning to ask a favor of you,” said Charles quietly.
Sorin looked to his friend, marking his serious manner. “You know you have only to name it.”
“Yes, well, it may prove a bit awkward for you, this particular favor,” said Charles, eyeing him. “I need someone to help me keep an eye on Ellie this Season.”
Sorin did his best to maintain a placid demeanor. “Are you anticipating some sort of trouble?”
“A bit, yes. Not from Ellie, of course,” amended Charles hastily. “Rather from her friend, Miss Caroline. Rowena confided in me that the girl has been…well, let us just say she’s been restless of late. She also has an unfortunate tendency toward reckless behavior. Scandal has haunted her footsteps almost since she came out. If she trips the edge and becomes embroiled in anything serious, I want to ensure none of it touches Ellie.”
“I can hardly prevent Miss Caroline from behaving inappropriately,” Sorin began, keeping his voice low so as not to be overheard.
“No, but you can ensure that Ellie is with someone who will watch out for her and behave properly in her company while Rowena and I have our hands full. Your presence at her side will discourage any adventurers from thinking her unattended.” His friend looked at him sidelong. “I would have asked you to help look after Miss Caroline, but I suspect she’d only try to entrap you. An idea that—unless I’m woefully lacking in intuition—likely holds no appeal for you.”
“Indeed it does not,” Sorin said drily. “I am most grateful for your mercy and will gladly act as Ellie’s chaperone, if that is your desire.” Though the windfall elated him, he felt rather like a fox that had just been asked to guard a henhouse.
“Wonderful!” said Charles, his smile returning. “Ah, but perhaps it might be best not to tell her what you’re on about, if you know what I mean,” he said with a wink. “I know you’re fast friends and all that, but she might not take too kindly to your playing the watchdog.”
Watchdog indeed. “I shall be discreet.” He had to ask it. “Are you not concerned that my hovering might cause people to think us a pair?”
Charles’s indignant snort would have wounded him had he not been anticipating it. “Not bloody likely,” said his friend, chuckling. “All of London knows you’re an old friend of the family’s, a sort of older brother to Ellie. I’ve no worries over the rumor mill saying anything to the contrary. She’s safe with you, and that is my chief concern.” He paused and cleared his throat. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you might be willing to help with a bit of matchmaking while you’re ‘hovering’?”
Sorin forced a negligent shrug. “If you think she’d be receptive to such guidance, I’ll certainly do my best to steer her aright.”
“Excellent! You’ll be my eyes and ears on the front, then,” said Charles, his eyes twinkling. “If you see any likely prospects and are able to make any progress with getting her to consider them, you’ll let me know, eh?”
It really was quite difficult to smile when one truly wanted to scowl, but Sorin made the effort and brought one to his lips. “Naturally.”
Deeper and deeper seemed the hole into which he’d dug himself. Still, there might be a way to turn this around to his benefit. The letters they’d exchanged were all well and good, but what they really needed was time spent together in meaningful conversation. Now that Eleanor was an adult, she needed to get to know him as an equal
. As a man. If she could but see him in a different light, it might engender romantic sentiments toward him. He needed to open her eyes.
It must be done gradually, so as not to shock her. Changing her view of him from “brotherly friend” to “potential lover” would take time.
It would have to be done subtly, as well. Ideally, if all worked out as he hoped, she would be the one to tip her hand first. If he could make her fall in love with him, then, as his mother had suggested, Charles would gladly give his blessing.
It must be done with utmost care for her reputation. The last thing he wanted was for her to accept his offer of marriage only to avoid a scandal. He wanted her to choose him of her own accord.
Chaperoning Ellie would provide him the opportunity to be close to her without raising suspicion. Now he just needed a means by which to gently remove the veil from her sight and make her see him as a potential husband.
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 he
r 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.