Stiffening his spine, Neil crossed his arms over his chest. “I do not fidget. These clothes are ill fitting.”
“Ah, yes. The rumors were that you wandered about the country in your evening clothes for a time.” Sir Isaac’s grin appeared nearly triumphant.
It took effort not to grumble like an ill-mannered youth when Neil answered that remark. “I am pleased my discomfort brings you such entertainment.”
“My husband is obviously not feeling compassionate at present.” Lady Fox’s smile remained undimmed, despite her apologetic tone. “You must forgive him. But do tell me. Is Mrs. Clapham wonderfully pleased by how it has all turned out? Does she even now plan her new life?”
He leaned against the mantel, uncrossing his arms and trying to relax his posture. “Mrs. Clapham seemed surprised by the outcome, and she is a practical woman. I doubt she will make many plans before the funds are directly in her possession. Life has taught her to be cautious, after all.”
Sir Isaac grinned again. “You sound as though you admire that aspect of her.”
“One must admire a practical woman,” Neil said, tapping his fingers against the mantel. “They are so rare, after all.”
“Though that statement sounds rather severe upon my sex, I will agree. When it comes to ladies of Society.” Lady Fox actually smirked. “But do see, Isaac, that he readily admitted to admiring our Mrs. Clapham. Do you think, perhaps, the differences we sense in him has less to do with his change in fortune and more with his new acquaintance?”
“Ah, perhaps you have something there, Millie.” Sir Isaac tipped his head back, narrowing his eyes as he made a show of studying Neil again.
Neil scoffed and turned his own away to stare at the door. If only he had not readied himself for dinner with such haste. He might have avoided the entire conversation. “You are both imagining things.”
“Most unlikely.” Lady Fox giggled. “Oh, I can hardly wait to meet her. Do you know, I had not thought Lord Neil the sort of man whose head might be turned by any woman.”
Sir Isaac opened his mouth to speak, far too much amusement already written upon his face, when the door opened and Teresa entered.
Not caring who saw, and almost forgetting their audience, Neil approached her at once with one hand outstretched. “Mrs. Clapham. You look enchanting this evening.” She wore a dress he had not seen upon her before, with silver embroidery and a lavender color that made her gray eyes appear quite light. Her dark hair was done up in lovely curls and twists, and he saw the ribbon he had procured for her in her hair. It was her only real adornment. She wore no jewels, no silk shawl. Only the ribbon, dress, and cream-colored gloves that had likely come from the days before her husband’s loss.
Yet he could not think he had ever seen a more beautiful woman in his life.
“Thank you,” she murmured, placing her hand in his and stepping close. Her cheeks turned pink. “I hope no one else will mind that I am dressed all wrong for the occasion.” It was true. The gown was simple by the standards he had known. Everyone at the table that evening would be titled, except for her.
“I daresay, no one will care at all.” Neil gave her hand a squeeze, then guided her to the now-standing couple in the room. “Sir Isaac Fox, Lady Fox, might I present to you my dear friend, Mrs. Henry Clapham.”
“It is an honor to meet you at last,” Teresa said as they exchanged the proper greetings. “Thank you for your part in setting things up for court. I cannot possibly express my gratitude enough for all that you have done.”
Sir Isaac, standing at attention, bowed to her again. “Mrs. Clapham, it was our pleasure to be of assistance.”
“I am well enough aware of what it is like to feel as though no help is coming,” Lady Fox said with firmness. “I am only glad that Lord Neil wrote to me and explained the situation. Thank goodness it all turned out for the best.”
Teresa looked up at Neil, and he found himself smiling back at her. He tucked her arm through his, resting his hand upon hers. “There is no one so deserving of a miracle as you, my dear.”
Sir Isaac coughed suddenly, and his wife abruptly cleared her throat, slanting her husband a disapproving glare.
Perhaps Neil had grown too relaxed, showing his hand in such a way that someone such as Sir Isaac had caught on. With some reluctance, Neil released Teresa and stepped back toward the mantel, pretending interest in the clock that sat upon it. Teresa and Lady Fox engaged in conversation, which he pointedly ignored.
There was no reason to cause speculation, even among people who may never set eyes upon Teresa again after that night. Her reputation was important to him, and his continued affection for her would complicate matters if he did not get it under control.
But how Neil wished he could reveal the whole of his heart to her, without fear of rejection. He had nothing to offer her. Nothing at all. Teresa had the ability to do as she pleased, at last, and did not even need to rely upon his help.
He had been away from his family longer than he once expected. The marquess would not relent, perhaps ever, giving Neil no funds or position to offer a woman. Which meant he would be reliant upon himself to earn a living, and his current employment, his food and shelter, all came from Teresa.
She had the funds to hire help. To move entirely away from the farm, should she wish. Though he depended upon her, as he had at the beginning of their arrangement, she no longer depended upon him. There was nothing he could offer her. Nothing but his love for her. For a woman as beautiful, kind, and compassionate as she, it was not enough. He was not enough.
Neil stared at the face of the clock, suddenly wondering exactly how much time he would have left with the woman he loved before he had to give her up forever.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The Inglewood carriage waited outside for Teresa and Neil early the next morning. They would not need to stop for the night, this time, though the driver and groom would change out the horses halfway through the journey. Teresa’s excitement over seeing her mother and daughter, and sharing her incredible news with them, was only tempered by her nervousness at spending six hours alone in a carriage with Neil.
If she did not mind her actions, she knew her feelings might well reveal themselves.
Lord and Lady Inglewood saw them off, with their son in Lord Inglewood’s arms. Teresa thanked them once more and promised to write Lady Inglewood to continue their friendship.
Once the carriage door swung shut, and the driver flicked the reins, Teresa leaned into the corner of the vehicle and released a long-held sigh.
Neil sat across from her, in the same clothing he had worn to court. Not as fine as a lord would usually wear, but a perfect match for her subdued wardrobe. Taking his hat off, Neil tossed it onto the seat beside him and stretched his legs diagonally across the floor.
“Home in six hours,” he said.
Home? Did he think of Bramble Cottage as home? No, of course not. Most likely he had only meant he understood what she felt. As pleasant as her stay in the house had been, having servants to wait upon her, the lack of things to do to keep herself busy had nearly driven her mad.
The pianoforte had been wonderful. Perhaps she ought to purchase one for the cottage. If they remained at the cottage. It was not precisely fair for her to make the decision on a whim, without conversation or planning. Even if the cottage had become home.
Neil’s low chuckle brought her out of her thoughts. “I cannot recall ever seeing a simple statement cause such abrupt brooding.”
“Pardon me.” Teresa folded her hands in her lap. “I am not certain I will be good company today. I cannot stop thinking about the changes I can make, yet I know it would be imprudent to do anything before the money is in my hands.”
“One can always dream, Teresa.” He had not called her that before the others, and so she had not heard her name from his lips in days. Hearing it now caused her heart to flutter.
“I have not dreamed in a very long time. I am afraid I am out of pract
ice.” Teresa untied her bonnet ribbons and removed her hat, putting it on the bench beside her. “I do not know where to start.”
“Where do you wish to live?”
She laughed, without much humor. “I would think that is the most complicated question.” Teresa bit her bottom lip.
His eyes softened, and his tone became coaxing. “Not at all. We are speaking of dreams, not what you will do for certain. If you could live anywhere, from a house on Mayfair to a hovel in Northumbria, where would you live?”
Teresa closed her eyes, smiling and preparing to describe a palace in Austria. Instead, she thought of the cliffs high above the crashing waves of the North Sea. And her cherry trees, blossoming and filling the air with sweet scents.
True, there were the less enjoyable scents of the barn when it needed cleaning. Her nose wrinkled at all of those memories. And yet… Abigail’s sweetness, and thinking of Caroline dancing in the loft made all her memories glow golden.
“My farm,” Teresa said quietly. “I would stay there. Make improvements, of course, to the cottage. Some to the land. But it has been such a place of peace for my family.” She focused her gaze upon him and saw the way he looked at her. His eyebrows were drawn together, not in disapproval, given the way he smiled. He did not seem at all surprised by what she said.
She ought to have been uncomfortable beneath such a knowing look in a man’s eyes, but instead she laughed. “What would you have me say instead? That I should like to live in Bath, at a fashionable address? I know no one of fashion anymore, and I have no desire to impress my own importance or lack thereof upon anyone.”
With a faint shrug, he lowered his head and rubbed his palms upon the knees of his trousers. “I would only have you in a place where you are happy, Teresa.”
Her name again, spoken like a caress, made her heart tighten and trip. “Where would you go?” she asked, though she knew she would not like the answer. “If you could go anywhere to live?”
“I have not recently come into money.” He evaded the question quite expertly. “What would you improve about your house?”
“I would add on to it, I think. You have not been upstairs, but there are the four rooms, and they are all very small. I should like to make an addition to both floors. It would be wonderful to have a place for a pianoforte—a small one only, of course. A desk, bookshelves, and things to make it easier to educate Caroline. Then have larger bedrooms, so that there is room for more than a bed to sleep upon. A second chimney on the other side of the house for warmth.” Before Teresa knew it, she was describing all the ways in which she could make Bramble Cottage a home fit for a lady and her daughter. Neil nodded, asked questions, but for the most part he did no more than listen.
He sat with his elbows on his knees, leaning forward as though intent upon every word she said.
At last Teresa ended her rambling, not sure how much time had passed. They had moved on to discuss what the money would mean to Caroline’s education, and how little Teresa wanted to send her daughter away. Neil appeared to agree with her when she said it would make her happier to educate her daughter at home.
“I haven’t a great deal of experience with children, you understand.” His grin turned crooked. “But your Caroline is sweetly tempered and has always struck me as intelligent, too. You have done well by her thus far. I cannot see how a school would do better.”
“You are in such an agreeable mood today.” Teresa yawned, and covered it quickly with her hand. “Do forgive me. I am afraid I did not sleep well last night. I think I was over-excited.”
“I cannot blame you for that. Do you sleep well in carriages?”
“Not particularly. How does anyone sleep with their heads bobbing about?” Teresa demonstrated, leaning against her wall. “You see? It is nearly impossible.”
A spark of mischief appeared in his eyes. “I know a trick that may help with that.”
“I dare not ask, given the way you are smiling at me.” Teresa laughed when he changed his expression to one of exaggerated innocence. “Those wide green eyes do not at all fool me, Neil Duncan. Whatever you would suggest, I imagine it would not be helpful in the least.”
He crossed his arms, smirking. “You think I mean to tease you?”
“I do. You have no intention of being helpful at all.” She tipped her chin up, daring him to prove her wrong.
Neil took her dare. He moved across the carriage to sit beside her, after tossing her bonnet to land next to his hat. Teresa sucked in a breath, her lips parting. It was not entirely scandalous, to sit next to him in a carriage. But he was suddenly so very close.
His arm stretched across the back of the seat, going around her shoulders. “Here. I will keep your head from bobbing about. You may get the rest you need. And before you protest about propriety, I will remind you that no one need ever know of your lapse. I will say nothing. You will take a nap. All will be well.”
“You are most difficult, Lord Neil,” she said, decidedly not looking at him. He was too close. If she turned her face to his, they would be near enough to touch noses. But that was not, she knew, what would happen.
“Only Neil, please. I far prefer my place as your friend to my place as the marquess’s son.”
Teresa relaxed, then leaned her head upon his shoulder. “I suppose if you offer me your shoulder—as a friend—then there is no harm in taking a little nap.” Not that she thought she would sleep, with his arm around her. She preferred to stay awake. He was warm, and strong. She had seen him work in the fields, trees, and barn, and knew him to be capable of offering her safety and protection.
But the arm around her meant more than those things. He held her carefully, as though she mattered to him. As more than a friend.
She fell asleep, though she could not say when.
And she dreamed all the while of being held.
Things had to return to the way they were. Neil knew that. Eventually, he must return to his family. There would come a time when Teresa would no longer need him, or when it would drive him mad to not kiss her senseless when she came near. He was not so much of a fool that he dared to think they could keep going on the path they were on and it not lead to liberties taken or trust broken.
He loved her. He had absolutely nothing to offer her by means of funds or position. She deserved more than a man dependent upon her. He must leave her.
But for the time he could, he held her while she slept in the carriage. Her head dipped, resting upon his chest. He bent his head just enough to breathe in her scent. His lips brushed a dark curl.
Teresa did not need him. But he desperately needed her.
Neil swallowed and closed his eyes. If he asked, would she marry him? While he was nothing but a disinherited man with no skills to recommend him? What woman in her right mind would say yes to such a thing?
If he ever found the courage to ask, and then she said no, it would be the end. He could not possibly linger. Not merely because of the blow to whatever pride he had left, which was little enough all things considered, but because of the pain.
Neil woke her when it was time to change the horses, and he moved to his side of the carriage before they stopped. She smiled gratefully as he returned her bonnet to her. While the servants changed the horses, the passengers would take refreshment, and then be on their way again.
“Thank you for that respite,” Teresa said when she stepped out of the carriage. “I feel more myself now. I hope it was not too uncomfortable for you.”
“Not in the least.” Neil tucked her hand through his arm and took her into the inn. “I would gladly offer you such a service again, though I cannot see another occasion for it in our future.”
Our future. How he wanted one with her.
The innkeeper bowed to them when they entered. “Good afternoon, sir. What might you and your wife be needing?”
Neil’s heart skipped almost joyfully. He did not correct the man’s assumption. What did it matter? “A table, some sandwiches, and tea.�
��
“Of course.”
“In a private room, if you have one,” Teresa added, taking Neil aback. He raised his eyebrows at her, but she kept her gaze upon the innkeeper. “And food for our driver and groom, please.”
“Yes, we will certainly see to their needs.”
Neil took coins from his pocket before Teresa could offer up payment. She appeared surprised, but then smiled at him. They were shown upstairs, to a room with a table, chairs, and a large window. A small parlor, perfect for two.
When the man withdrew to see about their meal, Teresa took her gloves off and laid them upon her lap. She raised her dark eyebrows at him. “So are we Mr. and Mrs. Duncan for now?” She placed her hands upon the table, as though to smooth the tablecloth.
His heart leaped. Why not for always?
“I did not hear any objections downstairs.” He took off his own gloves and sat across the table from her. Then Neil held his hand out, palm up. Preparing to make a point. Not really to reach for her. When she slid her bare hand into his, Neil’s throat tightened. Her smile was sweet, happy, and lovely. It made his head feel light.
“Neil?” Her smile slowly turned into a frown. “Are you unwell?”
He shook his head and looked down to where he held her hand, running his thumb across her skin. “I am the most happy and content I have ever been. Because of you.” He laughed, though the sound was almost choked. “I am not a good man, Teresa. Though I have had a go at reforming myself for a little time now, there is much that needs improvement still.”
“I think we might all say the same.” She squeezed his hand. “From what you have said about your life before, even about your history with Lord and Lady Inglewood, I have a very difficult time imagining such a man. That man sounds like an absolute scoundrel. You, my wonderful friend, have only a little of the scoundrel in you.”
Neil ducked his head, looking down at their joined hands rather than her gentle gray eyes. “You tease me.”
Reforming Lord Neil: A Regency Romance (Inglewood Book 5) Page 21
