Page 13 of London Holiday (Sweet Escapes Collection #2)
Chapter thirteen
“ N o. I will not do it.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Again. “The footman rides on the back of the coach! It is always so!”
“I am perfectly aware of this, but I will not do it.”
“Well, you certainly cannot ride inside the coach. What will passers-by think?”
“If I am inside, they cannot see me.”
“They can see me, mounting and dismounting the box with you. I will tell you what they will think! We will be presumed to be entering an assignation—a lady and a lover dressed as a servant to evade prying eyes at home! You wish to avoid drawing attention? That would certainly do the opposite.”
“We must simply wait for a coach that is better suited.”
“You have dismissed two already. We will never make half a mile at these odds.” Elizabeth blew a huff of frustration. “How can you have lived so long in the world and yet remained so innocent to its realities?”
“I am not a simpleton. I know very well the realities of the world, I thank you, but bouncing on the rumble seat of a hired coach through the busy streets of London, knowing that at any moment the horseflesh I stare backwards at could very well seat itself in my lap, is not an appealing way to travel. Even worse to cling by the straps, standing on a step no larger than a stirrup iron. Have you ever examined the hand grips on the rear of coaches? I have no wish to meet my death today. ”
“I suppose you must own some manner of carriage? After all, you have confessed to fewer details of yourself than have I, but if you are not some manner of a gentleman, you would be the most worthless manservant in the house. I pray you truly are a man of means, for your own sake.”
His eyes darkened, and even his nostrils flickered in annoyance. Elizabeth tried not to smile. He was so easy to goad.
“I do have a carriage, madam, if I must confess so much. More than one. What has that to do with the issue at hand?”
“If you object so strongly to the usual accommodations for a footman on the back, I presume you have suited your own carriages with better provisions?”
She watched his jaw tighten. His lips were twitching into a frown, and he glared at the pavement for half an instant. Elizabeth tilted her head and waited.
He turned then, without a word to the contrary, and lifted his hand to the next hackney as it approached. It drew to the curb, and her dark stranger shot her a look that demanded she appreciate his efforts. He opened the door, appeared to sniff the upholstery, then nodded curtly to her. As she approached, he put down the foot block and held the door for her to mount the box. Elizabeth dipped her head in a scant approximation of a full curtsy and raised her foot, then found that he had caught her hand to help her in.
She met his eye in surprise, but his expression was grave, yielding nothing. She drew a sharp little breath and stepped up, feeling his strong arm assisting her more than she was accustomed to. Even through the gloves they both wore, there was something reassuring about the firmness of his grip as he steadied her. She seated herself and looked back as he put up the step and closed the door. She heard his voice outside, giving the driver the direction, and then there was a creaking just behind her as his weight settled into the rumble seat on the back.
There was a small, darkly soiled window between them; evidence that this particular coach had been rather fine in its youth. Elizabeth turned to peer through it, finding it completely obscured by his broad shoulders as they rocked through the busy streets. He was forced to press his back directly against the thin panel which separated them, and she could hear through the glass the soft scraping of his clothing against the wood.
It was slow going, traversing the busy streets at any time of day. Elizabeth began to wonder if they would not have done better to walk, but the few places where the horse jerked into a faster gait more than made up for any stoppage. She had ridden in her uncle’s carriage often enough, which could boast a clever driver, but this master of the ribbons did not seem to hold with finesse over practicality. Quite often she was forced to grip the seat for balance as the frantic driver dashed his jaded vehicle through holes in the way which were far too small. She gritted her teeth, resettling her bonnet after one particularly rough lurch. The chaise had skidded to a sudden halt, forced to wait on traffic. There was a grunt from behind her, but the shoulders still darkened the window, so he had not fallen off.
Unable to resist, she knocked on the glass. “Is there a horse in your lap?”
“Two,” was the dry retort.
“Perhaps you should step onto one of their backs.”
There was a pause, and Elizabeth tried to imagine what expression would be crossing his face. Alas, she did not know him well enough to predict his response. More was the pity, for the facial reaction was always the most entertaining part of any exchange.
“I doubt the two together could hold me,” came his muffled reply. “The pair of nags can barely pull their own cab.”
Their vehicle jerked again, and the rattling of the wheels made further attempts at conversation impossible. Elizabeth turned to face forward, giggling as she did so. Oh, he was the most haughty, insufferable man, and she would be well rid of him soon, but he was not without his abilities. Few apart from her father could truly banter with her, giving rise to this bounding sense of playfulness she felt when speaking to him. Uncomfortable he clearly was, for a variety of reasons, she could imagine, but he was intelligent. Such a shame that more gentlemen were not so well read and spared so little time for serious thought. And such a shame that this particular man’s good looks and fine figure belonged to a personality so brooding and prideful!
In due time, they had reached their destination. Elizabeth settled her bonnet once more, just as the door was opening. He was frowning down at some bit of mud sprayed upon his shoes but straightened as she bent toward the door. Once again, that strong hand took hers. She stared at him curiously as she lowered herself to the pavement, and he gazed back, dark brown eyes unflinching. He remained so, ensuring that she was safely upon her own two feet, for an uncomfortable second longer until the driver coughed.
Elizabeth shook herself. She drew out her reticule to pay the man, but as she extended the coin for her “footman” to pass to the driver, his hand touched hers again, staying it. He turned to pay the driver himself, then came back to her with a slight bow. “At your service, madam.”
She arched a brow. “Miss Bennet, please, or Miss Elizabeth suits me, as well.”
There was a faint softening about his mouth. “Very well, Miss Bennet. I hope you know where to go from here.”
Elizabeth looked up at the buildings. “I have never been here, but I believe it is nearby.”
“Nearby?” his tones rose. “How did you give the direction if you do not know the exact location?”
“I overheard my uncle Philips three years ago when he first formed the association. He told my father and my uncle Gardiner the cross streets, which were Charlotte and Castle Street near Long Acre, so….” She arched on her toes and scanned up and down the street.
“Three years ago! ”
“Yes, but I have an excellent memory, sir, for you see my dearest friend from Hertfordshire is named Charlotte, and Long Acre is quite similar in sound to—Oh! I think that is it. Yes, Harrogate and Smith, in the fifth building down on our right. That sounds familiar.”
“You are not certain?”
“Reasonably so.”
She could see his jaw clenching and his fingers working into a tight knot. “Let us proceed, then.”
Elizabeth found she could scarcely keep ahead of him when he lengthened his strides toward an objective. She glanced over her shoulder once, and he drew back, but his impatience could hardly be denied.
They were still two streets away when three men, deep in conversation and appearing in much haste, came out of the building they approached. “Ah!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “You see, there he is, my uncle! You need not have feared, for I was correct after all, and this is the right place. That man in the green is my uncle.”
“Your uncle is leaving!” His strides lengthened again.
“Oh. Indeed, he is. Uncle Gardiner!” she cried, but her companion put out his hand and called in his own deep voice.
“Mr Gardiner, sir! I would speak with you—Mr Gardiner!”
But neither Mr Gardiner nor his companions heard. They mounted a waiting carriage, apparently all in some great hurry, and the horse was moving away.
Elizabeth’s escort was nearly running now, his walk looking more like a sprint as he left her far behind in his pursuit of the departing carriage, but the street here was clear, and the carriage was gone. Still, it took him at least thirty paces to admit defeat. By the time Elizabeth caught him up again, he had slowed to a dejected gait before the very building her uncle had left.
“Bad luck,” she bit her lip, and hesitantly peeked at his face .
His cheeks were flushed to a deep crimson, and she doubted that it was from the exertion for so fit a man. “Luck!” he spat. “I have been cursed from the moment I drank that brandy!”
“I beg your pardon?”
“It is none of your concern,” he snapped, all the while glaring down the street. “This has been an absurd waste of my time. I must have been daft to agree to this scheme!”
“See here, sir, there is no cause to become irritable with me! I have done what I could, and I daresay more than any other would have—certainly more than any rational person would have bothered with, for you are a testy, disdainful man. I do not expect you to kiss my feet in gratitude, but a man who claims to be a gentleman would not behave with such incivility!”
He whirled, his gaze heated and intense. “You think me uncivil! Have I not some provocation? I could have been about something useful these two hours, something which might have done me some good!”
“Spare your energies for the party who has wronged you, for it was not myself. How was I to know we would scarcely miss him? Now, if you will excuse me, sir, I believe our business is finished, unless you are fast enough to catch that carriage.”
She turned on her heel to march toward the corner, thinking of hailing another coach, but he was at her elbow in two strides. “Where are you going, Miss Bennet?”
“Back to Gracechurch Street. I have just had an epiphany.”
“And what is that?”
“That if I seek to avoid the demands and company of irksome gentlemen, I would do better to tolerate my aunt’s guest. At least he is witless enough to be laughed at.”
“I am glad you do not think me witless, but I apologise if you found me irksome just now. I have seldom been so frustrated by circumstances.”
“I suggest you accustom yourself to frustration, for it is the way of the world. The rest of us cannot afford to orchestrate our lives without some level of inconvenience. Consider it an exercise in character development.”
“I have character enough, I thank you. Come, Miss Bennet, I have apologised once, and I never do so twice, but I do so now. It was not my intention to insult you after you attempted to help me.”
She stopped, glanced at the hand he had touched to her elbow to catch her attention and looked back to his face. He dropped his hand as though she had scalded him, seemingly as surprised as she was to find that he was touching her again.
“A gallant apology does not compensate for the arrogance of the trespass. You are too quick to assume an inconvenience as a personal affront.”
“And you are too quick to wilfully misunderstand. My frustration was of a more general nature. Toward you, I have expressed my indebtedness.”
“A strange way you have of doing so!”
“Must I apologise a third time? I believe I have given you to understand the gravity of my situation. Is not my annoyance at least somewhat justifiable? Would you not—or, rather, have you not—suffered a like circumstance?”
Elizabeth sighed loudly. “Very well, I can find it in my heart to forgive you, but I am afraid that nothing more can be done here. I shall return to Gracechurch Street, for my family will eventually begin to wonder where I am.”
“I do not doubt it. Surely, however, before we go, there must be someone in that office there who can tell us if your uncle is expected back soon or, perhaps, where they have gone.”
“Did you not see that third man? The one with the brown coat turned and locked the door. There will be no one there. I am afraid we must concede. Perhaps if you leave with me your direction, I may speak with my uncle this evening when he returns home. Surely you can find some other way to avoid your… entanglement… for just one more day? The parson will certainly not be waiting on your doorstep! ”
His eyes rolled upward in thought. “I doubt that I can, for the moment I do return to my house, I shall be set upon by a score of angry relatives demanding my capitulation. I shall not trouble you with the particulars, but even my staff are not to be relied upon. If I have not some evidence for my own protection in my hand upon my arrival, it will become all but impossible to deny their claims.”
“Would that a lady’s testimony would do as well as my uncle’s!”
He gazed down at her for a long moment, appearing to contemplate something very deeply. When he spoke again, it was in a soft voice. “I believe we both know what other complications would arise in that case. I would not wish it upon you, Miss Bennet.”
She coloured, looking away. “My aunt is a respectably married woman. Surely, her testimony—”
“Would be considered that of an interested party with two unmarried nieces under her roof. No, Miss Bennet, it is impossible. It was enough risk to consider your uncle’s word, but a lady’s… it is out of the question.” He sighed, his gaze wandering toward Saint Paul’s Cathedral in the distance. “Perhaps Wilson or Fitzwilliam has discovered something I might find useful, for that is my best chance.”
Elizabeth smiled regretfully and dipped him a curtsy. “May I wish you the very best in your search, sir. If you still have need of my uncle by the morrow, we would be happy to receive you.”
“You speak as if you are abandoning me, Miss Bennet.”
“I think it for the best, sir. You do not need the additional scandal of being recognised with yet another lady, and I have my own reputation to consider.”
“I am ordinarily inclined to agree with you, Miss Bennet, but under the circumstances…” he looked over his shoulder, across the street from where they stood, to a hotel. “I have hardly eaten today, and I believe some fortification is required before I mount the back of another carriage.”