Page 15 of Just Think of the Scandal (The Fairplace Family Novellas #2)

T heo had surprisingly little difficulty putting his discomfort and concerns aside, instead focusing on the fascinating woman sitting across from him. He was absurdly glad he’d run after her.

After a couple of hours of entertaining one another with conversation about their upbringing, impressions of the rest of the houseguests, and whatever came to mind, Eliska’s stomach rumbled.

She put a hand to her belly. “Oh, dear.”

“I don’t have any more food,” Theo apologized.

She reached for her reticule on the end of the bench. “I packed what I could with scones from Blatherwycke’s kitchens.” She passed out two dry, crumbly scones to him.

Theo took them, holding them delicately between thumb and forefinger. He ate carefully, consuming every crumb.

All light outside faded away, as did the sound of misting rain. Cold air drifted through the cracks in the door, its fingers clutching and sending shivers down his spine.

After some time watching Eliska drape and redrape her blanket, curling into as much of a ball her crinolines would allow, Theo made a decision.

He slapped his knees and stood as best he could. “Right. We’ll freeze to death if we stay like this.”

Eliska’s eyes widened in the firelight, fear glinting. “Truly?”

“Not actually.” Theo stood hunched over and began folding his blanket. “English springs aren’t that cold. I’m just using hyperbole.”

She eased under her blanket. “What are you doing?”

Theo shrugged his dried jacket back on, then turned to her. “We’re moving to first class.”

She stared, uncomprehending. “We are?”

“Absolutely. They have velvet cushioned seating, better-smelling oil in their lamp, another blanket, the floor has a rug, and the window has a curtain. We’ll be far warmer over there.”

“Is there room for us?” Eliska looked skeptical.

“The train is only half full. I opened most of the compartments before I found you. The carriage right behind us is first class for all three compartments.”

Her eyes brightened and she struggled to get off the bench, her gray skirts and crinolines flailing around her. “Let’s go!”

Theo eyed her outfit. “I don’t even know how you fit through the door this morning.” He hefted her valise.

She laughed. “I did have to squeeze the skirts.” She draped her blanket over one arm and snatched up her reticule. “Lead the way.”

Theo braced against the cold, wet air and opened the door. He hopped down and immediately regretted it. Water splashed up his legs, soaking his socks and trousers up to his knees.

“Did you land in a puddle?” Eliska whispered from behind.

Theo grimaced and tried to shake the water off, feeling rather like a wet dog. “It’s not too bad,” he lied. He turned in a circle, trying to get the lay of the land. He stood in puddles surrounded by mud on the edge of the track. Clouds covered the moon, so he couldn’t see anything beyond the carriage right beside him.

He glanced over his shoulder to see Eliska leaning out of the carriage, hands braced on the door frame, skirts squished inward. “You’ll never make it dressed like that.”

Eliska gave him a look. “I’m not spending the night in here by myself!”

Theo tried to ignore the water dripping down his shins. “Take your crinolines off, then climb on my back.”

She laughed. “No, I’ll find a way.”

“I’m quite serious.” Theo stepped backward until he was in position. “Come on. I promise I won’t look, if that’s what worries you.”

Eliska fell silent. He could practically feel her thinking. “Oh, very well.”

Theo took her blanket and reticule so she could wriggle free of her wire hoops. It took forever. Eliska huffed and grunted behind him, punctuated by rustling fabric. Although he had imagined—more than once—the sounds of her disrobing, he received no pleasure from the exercise, for he was still standing in a puddle of water. His leather shoes would never recover.

“Ready?” Her whisper came much closer than he’d anticipated, and he jumped at the warm breath on the nape of his neck.

“Ready.” He held his arms out. “I’ve given piggyback rides to my niece and nephew, so you’re with an expert.”

She laughed, and then her arms were around his shoulders and her breasts pressed against his shoulder blades.

Very well, a little water is worth this.

Theo tried to hook his arms under her knees, but all he felt were acres and acres of petticoats. “What—what—where are your legs , woman?”

Eliska wriggled against him, and he felt her knees somewhere in his ribs. “Right there!” She laughed, breaking the thick, smothering silence with glee. An answering smile tugged at Theo’s lips.

After much fumbling and mock grumbling, they finally got his arms under Eliska’s legs. Theo felt lighter than he had all day. He never thought he’d be thanking his lucky stars his betrothed was European—he hadn’t thought it would make much difference either way—but right now he was. Theo doubted many British ladies of gentle birth would climb onto his back and bear him touching their legs in such an intimate fashion. His sister told him that girls in finishing schools were instructed to use the word “limb” rather than “leg.” Thank goodness Eliska was Eliska.

She squeezed his chest. “Ready.”

Theo hiked her high on his back and plodded through the muddy puddles to the next carriage. She’d left her crinolines behind in the compartment, and her skirts likely trailed in the mud behind them. But she was warm and cheerful despite the circumstances, and he didn’t think he’d ever had this much fun holding a woman before.

“You’re going slow,” she complained cheerfully.

Theo snorted. “You try walking through this mud with a person on your back.”

Eliska wriggled against him, and his cock pressed against the seam of his trousers. Her left foot knocked into his left knee. But apparently his body liked it, for his cock was somehow at half-mast.

“Did you just kick me?” Theo asked in mock outrage. “I am not a horse, madam. I will not go faster if you stick me with your spurs.”

Eliska bent over his shoulder, laughing. “Oh, none of this is funny at all and yet I can’t stop.” Her breath was hot against his cheek, and all he wanted to do was keep her laughing. Maybe she’d stay with him.

In a few moments that felt like hours, somehow they maneuvered themselves into the first class compartment. They took turns sitting at the open compartment door to remove their wet and muddy shoes. Theo rolled his socks down, too. When he turned back, Eliska had lit the lamp on the wall, and his chest seized at the sight.

Eliska had bent over, grappling at her back to remove a few petticoats from under her wool skirts. With her crinolines gone he could make out the natural curve of her waist and hips. In the struggle to find better accommodations, her hair had fallen around her face. Lamplight caressed the curve of her cheek and gilded her dawn-colored hair, turning it to pure flame. She was so beautiful, even in this bedraggled state. Perhaps especially because of her bedraggled state, for it proved that despite her appearance she was a true flesh-and-blood woman. All he wanted was to tangle his hands in her locks and drag her lips to his. He clenched his fist to keep from doing it.

“I’m exhausted.” Eliska covered her mouth in a yawn as she looked up at him. “You don’t mind if I take off some of these garments, do you?”

Yes, absolutely . “Go right ahead,” he acquiesced. Considering exactly how they’d found themselves in this predicament, he was going to be the most proper, courteous gentleman to ever walk the face of England.

Theo sat on one of the upholstered seats, stroking the velvet. It wasn’t exactly soft, but when compared to the wooden seat of second class, he was thrilled.

Eliska turned and squirmed, panting and breathing as she fought her way out of her restrictive undergarments. Once three petticoats the size of sails were piled beside Theo, she sat opposite him and smiled. “We can use those as extra blankets tonight.”

Theo gritted his teeth at the idea of touching her undergarments but not her. So close and yet so far. “Whatever makes you more comfortable.”

Eliska then decided torture was the next activity for the evening, for she set one stockinged foot on the edge of the seat beside Theo. Her wool skirt tumbled back, puddling somewhere around mid-thigh. She reached down, oblivious to Theo’s torment, and unhooked her garter and began rolling her stocking down in slow, seductive movements.

Theo’s fist tightened in his lap, and he looked away.

“You seem tense,” she commented.

“No, not really,” Theo managed.

“Are you tired from today?”

“Yes, that’s it,” he agreed. “And worried about the bridge in the morning.”

She’d finished one stocking and switched legs, dropping the first and then propping her other leg beside Theo and began the same procedure.

Theo sneaked a glance at her bare knee and imagined kissing it. Her long, soft fingers made deft work of the stocking, and soon he could see her entire calf. It was as smooth and unblemished as he’d imagined. No, Theo couldn’t look anymore. It was too much. He turned his head.

Eliska tossed her rolled-up stockings into her valise and Theo breathed a sigh of relief. He was ready to thank Saint Peter himself the torture had ended.

And then she fingered the buttons on her bodice.

Theo barely held back a groan.

She chattered merrily away as she popped open each jet button, revealing snatches of white undergarment as the shadows played across her chest.

How could she be talking right now? Didn’t she know what she was doing to him?

Theo gave up. He watched. She didn’t even seem to notice his hot, hungry gaze as she wriggled her shoulders, then her arms, out of her bodice. Soon she sat, bare arms lit by the lamplight, hair tumbling around her shoulders, nose red with the chill. “Oh goodness, it’s cold.” She shivered and rubbed her arms.

Her corset was vivid purple. Not mourning colors. She had that provocative color under the gray wool frock?

Damn it, why was he learning this information now, when she’d declared he couldn’t do anything about it? What he truly wanted to know next was the color of her nipples. It was cruel to know her corset was purple. Lilac. Lavender. Whatever girls called that color.

Theo had had enough. He tossed the soft, first class blanket at her. “You shouldn’t have undressed then,” he growled. Did she not care? Did she have no respect for his fraying self-control?

Eliska slowly wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. “My feet are cold.”

Theo’s were, too. He’d tucked them under his blanket already. He opened his mouth to offer to rub warmth back into her feet, but decided that was too far. We’re not betrothed anymore , she kept telling him. Damn it, this was supposed to be his wedding night.

“Can…can I sit next to you?” Her voice came soft and hesitant from the shadows.

Why not? He was already at his limit. Why not push it a little more? Theo had the mad desire to laugh. He deserved a medal. “If you insist.”

She hesitated, clearly unsure she was actually welcome by his reluctant tone.

“Come on, now.” Theo snaked his hand out of his blanket and reached for her, tugging her hand out from her blanket and gently pulling her toward him.

“Oh!” Eliska tipped forward. She landed half in his lap, half sprawled across the seating. Her mouth was far, far too close to his cock. It rallied, growing completely erect as if to greet the woman who’d caused so much torment and torture. Traitor , Theo cursed. She doesn’t want you. Calm down.

Eliska scrambled up and burrowed into his side, somehow sliding under his blanket and draping hers on top of them both. It was like magic. Theo didn’t even know how she did it. He reluctantly raised an arm, and she slipped in, resting her cheek against his heart. “Ugh!” she jerked away. “Your waistcoat is damp.”

Yes, yes it was. That discomfort was one of the only reasons Theo still had a grip on his sanity.

“Don’t you wish to remove it?” she asked, innocent as a lamb.

Theo barked a laugh. She had to be doing this on purpose. “No, I think I’ll keep it on.”

She sighed. “Very well. But I think you’d be far more comfortable with it off.”

No, he wouldn’t. In fact, he was considering taking a hike through the puddles on the track.

“Theo,” she said after a tense silence. “Why do you keep insisting upon marrying me? Besides ruining me,” she added.

“I got used to the idea,” he said gruffly, ducking his head. “I don’t like last-minute changes.” The truth was he wanted her. Badly. More than anything in his entire life. But it wasn’t just his body straining for her. His chest ached in that peculiar way when he witnessed a beautiful sunrise and knew he’d never have the privilege of seeing it again. She was so sweet and winsome, so utterly delightful and smart about some things and truly innocent when it came to others—a fascinating juxtaposition. He needed to know her more. He needed to feel that giddy lightness that rolled over him when she smiled. He needed to cause that smile, to give her joy when she’d experienced so much grief recently. He wanted to tell her all his secrets, hopes, and fears—and he wanted to hear hers, too.

This seemed far more serious than his original infatuation.

Eliska’s hand slid forward and wrapped around his thigh.

Theo tensed. Good god, was she seducing him? She simply had to be doing this on purpose. He couldn’t take it anymore.