“That’s no excuse. We should have gone somewhere else.”
Mamma was simply out of sorts, and Edie couldn’t blame her. It had taken forever to bounce their way out of London onto the Great North Road. Gilbride’s carriage was both luxurious and well-appointed, but that didn’t mean the journey was comfortable or swift. Spending the next ten to fourteen days locked together in such a small space was a daunting prospect.
“And where is the captain?” Mamma scanned the busy yard with a frosty expression. Normally, her mother quite liked Gilbride, but not today. Perhaps that was because he’d abandoned them to their gloomy silence by riding alongside or ahead of the carriage on a magnificent black hunter.
Eden peered around. Although things were a bit blurry, there was no mistaking Gilbride’s tall form and wide shoulders. “He’s by the carriage, talking to one of his grooms.”
“He barely spent two minutes with us at lunch,” her mother huffed. “I did not appreciate being left alone in a public dining room with the common riff-raff.”
“He did his best, Mamma, but there were no private rooms available. Besides, I’m sure he’s very busy organizing the two carriages, our maids, his valet, and three armed grooms. We’re not exactly traveling on the cheap.”
A grumpy hrumph was her mother’s only acknowledgment.
“Ah, ladies, here you are,” Gilbride said with a smile as they came up to the carriage.
The man was ridiculously handsome—and nice when he wished to be. It made Edie feel rather gloomy, probably because she was used to men like him falling at her feet. So far, however, Gilbride seemed entirely immune to her charms.
Of course, from his point of view, she was probably little better than an aging spinster with a modest dowry and a tattered reputation. If Gilbride were looking for a wife, he’d seek someone younger, prettier, and richer.
Edie silently lectured that she shouldn’t care in the least. Still, when his silver-gray gaze lingered on her, his smile warm, she couldn’t repress the thrilling shiver that she felt all the way down the backs of her legs.
“Are we ready to be on our way?” Gilbride asked. “We still have a few hours of daylight left before we need to get off the road.”
“Indeed we are,” Mamma said as she mounted the carriage step. “The sooner we leave this dreary establishment behind, the better.”
“Oh, Mamma,” Edie muttered under her breath. When she wrinkled her nose in silent apology at Gilbride, he gave her a shrug and a smile. Nothing seemed to bother him, not even an irate matron. Then again, he didn’t have to ride with her.
After he handed Edie up, Gilbride surprised her by stepping into the coach and taking the seat opposite.
“You’re not riding?” she asked. “It’s such a lovely afternoon out.”
She knew she sounded wistful, but as soon as she’d seen Gilbride mount his horse this morning, she’d thought of her beloved Castor. Edie had been forced to leave her beautiful gelding behind, despite her repeated requests to her mother to bring him.
“I would not think of asking the captain or his grandfather to provide for your horse or for a groom to take care of him,” Mamma had firmly stated. “We are guests in his house and must not take advantage.”
It seemed to Edie that throwing one little gelding into the mix would hardly make a difference. Her mother had claimed that Lord Riddick would no doubt have a suitable mount for her to ride but Edie knew that wouldn’t be possible. With her bad eyesight, riding without spectacles was a tricky proposition. She’d spent months training Castor, carefully acclimating herself to the horse, and him to her. She had perfect confidence in her ability to control Castor and in his ability to respond to her needs. He was gentle, light on his feet, and uncannily attuned to his mistress. Mamma had forgotten how long it had taken Edie to train the horse, and her repeated attempts to remind her had fallen on deaf ears.
Gilbride settled in, his muscular frame taking up a good portion of the carriage. Edie tucked her feet back to give him more room, and lifted a questioning eyebrow.
“Ah, yes. My horse,” Gilbride said. “My groom will take him along to the inn. I thought I’d ride with you for a while. It’s a treat to have such charming ladies for company on a long trip.”
Mamma made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort, and even Eden couldn’t come up with a reasonable response to such a blatant untruth. She simply gave him a polite smile before looking out the window.
As the carriage rumbled back onto the highway, she gazed longingly at Gilbride’s magnificent black stallion as it cantered past. The horse was huge, which he had to be to carry his brawny master, but he seemed to be well-trained and of gentle temperament. Perhaps at some point, when they were farther north and the traffic thinned, Gilbride might consider letting her ride him. After all, how much trouble could she get into following a carriage going no more than seven or eight miles an hour?
There was only one way to find out.
“Captain, do you ever let anyone else ride your horse?”
“Sometimes. It depends on the rider,” he said, shifting to get more comfortable. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to have him in the coach after all, although Edie was honest enough to admit she didn’t mind looking at his long, muscular legs, even if he did take up every inch of extra space.
She flashed him the smile that usually worked wonders on her male acquaintances. “I’m a very good horsewoman, so I was wondering if you might allow me to ride him at some point. Just for an hour or so, to take a break from the carriage.”
And from her mother’s griping.
As if on cue, Mamma scowled at her. “Really, Eden, I hardly think it proper for you to be riding on a public road behind a traveling coach. Whatever will everyone think?”
“No one will know who I am, so why does it matter?”
“That is precisely the attitude that has landed you in such serious trouble. We have enough scandals without you making a spectacle of yourself on the Great North Road.”
Mentally cringing under Mamma’s reprimand, Edie forced herself to look at Gilbride. His attention, however, was focused on her mother.
“I have no objection to Miss Whitney riding Darius, Lady Reese,” he said. “Especially on the less traveled parts of the road. My grooms would ride with her, and she would be within sight of the carriage at all times.”
The only part of Mamma that moved in response was her upper lip, and it curled with disdain. Edie had always been impressed with her mother’s ability to convey so much emotion with so small a gesture. Mamma had reduced more than one family member to abject apology with that lip, alone.
Captain Gilbride was clearly not intimidated, his eyebrows lifting in a haughty tilt as he stared back. It reminded Edie that Gilbride was more than just a handsome rake cutting a good-natured swath through the ton. He was an accomplished soldier and spy and was both powerful and wealthy—a great deal more so than anyone in her family.
She eyed her mother to see how she would take his challenge to her authority. It took a few, charged moments, during which Gilbride’s eyes narrowed to irritated slits, before Mamma backed down.
“Naturally, I will defer to your judgment as our host,” her mother said, adopting a gracious tone.
Edie was hard put not to roll her eyes. Of course Mamma would defer to him. Gilbride was rich and an aristocrat, the two things she valued most.
“Well, that’s settled,” Edie said. She smiled at Gilbride. “Thank you, sir. Perhaps I can ride tomorrow if the weather cooperates.”
“On one condition,” he said.
Eden frowned. “What would that be?”
“That you wear spectacles. I can’t allow you to ride my horse if you can’t see what you’re doing. It would be unsafe.”
“Wear spectacles in public?” Mamma exclaimed, aghast. “Do you want her to look a complete antidote?”
Edie silently cursed. Her twin wore spectacles all the time and was decidedly not an antidote. But Edi
e disliked the blasted things almost as much as her mother hated seeing her wear them. It was one thing to do it as the occasional lark but quite another to adopt them as part of one’s public persona.
“I don’t need spectacles to ride a horse,” she said. “I ride all the time without them.”
“But that is on your own horse,” Gilbride said. “One you trained. And you only ride where you are familiar with the landscape, at Maywood Manor or in Hyde Park. I cannot allow you to ride a strange horse on unfamiliar roads when your vision is impaired.”
Edie was torn between irritation and surprise. Irritation for the obvious reason, and surprise because he’d discovered something about her that very few people knew. Part of her couldn’t help being flattered that he cared to learn so much about her.
Wolf must have told him. She tipped up her chin. “I don’t have a pair of spectacles with me. But I assure you, Captain, that I am well able to manage your horse—or any horse—without them.”
He regarded her with a look of infuriating male superiority. “Possibly, but you will not be testing that theory on any of my animals.”
“Are you saying that I won’t be able to ride in Scotland, either, unless I wear spectacles?”
“That is exactly what I’m saying.”
The notion that she would have to give up riding for at least five months was so horrifying that Edie couldn’t find words to respond.
Perversely, now that Gilbride had said she couldn’t ride, Mamma started arguing the opposite. She stated that any daughter of hers was more than capable of controlling a horse without making herself a spectacle. Edie was certain her mother wasn’t intentionally making a pun, but that didn’t stop Gilbride from laughing.
The discussion, sadly, went even further downhill from there.
Chapter Five
Alec rose from the dining table as Lady Reese came to her feet.
“If you’ll excuse me, Captain,” her ladyship said, “I intend to retire. I find myself quite fatigued.”
“It’s not even seven o’clock,” Edie said, peering up at her mother. “You never go to bed this early. If you’re not careful, I’ll begin to think you’re turning into a complete bumpkin.”
Edie was squinting again, her vision obviously challenged by the shadows and the flickering light in the low-ceilinged, private dining room of the inn. Although the squint made her nose crinkle in an adorable fashion, Alec couldn’t understand why the girl was so stubborn about spectacles. He thought it demented to go through life with a needless handicap, but Lady Reese had obviously convinced her fashionable daughter that spectacles would turn her into a fusty old spinster.
It was foolish, but revealed an interesting chink in Edie’s relentlessly self-confident armor—one that he thought spoke more to a sense of vulnerability than to self-conceit. Despite her occasionally brash behavior, she was a sweet and kind person, surprisingly without airs or arrogance considering her popularity in the ton.
Since that popularity had recently been blasted to smithereens, he suspected she feared donning spectacles would make her position even more precarious. He’d done his best to convince her that safety took precedence over vanity, holding out the lure of riding his prized stallion, but Edie had held firm. Alec had a great deal of respect for the girl’s ability to navigate through the world, but she was sailing into unknown territory. It was up to him to keep her safe, even if that meant saying no to her.
Naturally, given that anyone rarely said no to her, his unyielding position made for a frosty few days in the carriage, with both Edie and her mother scowling at him. But at least Edie was no longer looking like her world had come to an end. She’d been an emotional wreck the day they’d left London, and it had practically killed Alec to see her so wretched. If irritation with him cheered her up, he was happy to serve as a distraction from her woes.
Still, he’d need Edie’s help once they arrived at Blairgal Castle, which meant he had to get on her good side by then. Yes, he was a manipulative bastard and his plans for her were a tad ruthless, but he was convinced that Edie needed someone to take care of her. Every moment he spent in her company told him that he was exactly the right man for the job.
Indeed, he was looking forward to taking up that role with a degree of sexual anticipation that he could barely keep under control.
“No one could ever mistake either of us for country bumpkins,” her mother replied to her daughter’s jesting comment. “But I do find myself with something of a headache. The roads today were very bad.”
She directed a disapproving glare at Alec, as if the state of the roads were entirely his fault.
“Yes, my bottom is quite sore from all that bouncing around,” Edie said.
“Eden Whitney, you will refrain from referring to body parts in polite company,” her mother exclaimed. “Although I consider Captain Gilbride to be part of the family, there is no excuse for such vulgarity.”
Although Alec suspected that Edie’s forthright remarks had more to do with the two large glasses of wine she’d had with dinner, he refrained from comment. In fact, it was taking a mighty exercise of discipline to prevent images of Edie’s naked bottom from swarming into his brain. He’d spent a good deal of time watching that portion of her anatomy as it swayed its way in and out of various coaching inns or hiked up near his face as he helped her into the carriage. Even more distracting was the bounce of her breasts whenever a wheel hit a particularly egregious pothole. Alec had found himself almost wishing for bad roads, if for no other reason than to watch Edie’s lush bosom move so deliciously under the trim-fitting bodice of her spencer.
She gave her mother a sheepish smile. “Sorry, Mamma. I don’t know what came over me. I suppose I’m a bit tired, as well.”
“Then I suggest you retire soon, too,” her mother said. “No doubt we will be making our usual early start.”
Clearly, Lady Reese wasn’t happy about the fact that Alec had them on the road by seven-thirty each morning. Still, the old girl gamely took on the challenge, and Edie was too good-natured to kick up a fuss about something that couldn’t be helped. As far as traveling companions went, he’d had many complain far more, including fellow officers from his old regiment.
“Can I have anything fetched for you before you retire, Lady Reese?” he asked.
“No, thank you, but I would ask that you not keep Eden up to all hours. My daughter needs her sleep.”
“I’m fine, Mamma,” her daughter said. “In fact, I was going to ask the captain to take me for a little walk before it got too dark. I could do with some fresh air after being cooped up all day.”
When Eden flashed Alec one of her most enchanting smiles, all his senses went on high alert. Trying to charm him meant she was up to something.
This should be interesting.
“I would be delighted,” he said politely. There was no point in letting Edie know just how much she affected him. She was the type of girl who would take a hundred miles if you gave her so much as an inch.
Lady Reese regarded him with a thoughtful look. It wasn’t the usual perusal from the average matchmaking mamma when confronted with a wealthy, single male under the age of eighty. Rather, it was a look of puzzlement, as if he were a species of animal she couldn’t quite identify.
“Very well,” her ladyship said, flicking a glance back to her daughter. “I’ll send Cora down with your pelisse and bonnet, and she can fetch your things as well, Captain. But don’t go too far afield, Eden. We don’t want to set any more tongues wagging.”
“No, Mamma,” Edie said in a long-suffering voice. Alec couldn’t blame her, since they weren’t likely to stumble upon any disapproving London matrons as they strolled along the streets of a Yorkshire market town.
Lady Reese departed, and Alec sat down to finish his wine. When Edie smiled at him again, he raised a skeptical brow.
“What’s wrong?” she said. “Don’t you want to go for a walk? Surely you’re as tired of sitting in that carriage as I
am.”
“With two such charming travel companions? How can you even suggest it?”
Her gaze narrowed suspiciously, but then she shrugged. “At least you get to break up the monotony by riding that blasted big horse of yours.”
“Miss Whitney, why do I feel like you have an ulterior motive for asking me to escort you?”
“Perhaps because you have an innately suspicious nature?” she said. “I wasn’t joking when I said that my . . . er, that I was feeling sore from all that bouncing around. If I have to sit much longer, I’m afraid I’ll end up a cripple.”
“Then I’d be delighted to take you for a walk. In fact, I was going to suggest it myself.”
She eyed him with patent disbelief. “Really? Perhaps I’m starting to grow on you, rather like mold on an old piece of cheese?”
“You are looking a little green around the edges, now that you mention it. As if you’d spent too much time in a damp cellar.”
“And maybe I was just joking, you idiot,” she said.
He laughed at her tone but was spared the necessity of a reply by the entrance of her maid with their gear. While Cora buttoned and tied Edie into her walking attire, Alec shrugged into his coat. One of the inn’s maids also came in and started clearing away the dishes from the ample and surprisingly good dinner.
“Did you enjoy your meal?” Alec asked. “The food seems rather better here than some of the other stops along the way.”
“And thank God for that, or we’d both have to listen to Mamma’s complaints,” she said drolly. “I enjoyed it very much, thank you. In fact, I didn’t need that lovely trifle at the end of the meal, but I couldn’t help myself.”
“You and Miss Evie always enjoyed your desserts, even as little girls,” Cora said with a fond smile as she fluffed the ribbon on Edie’s bonnet. “Cleaned your plates right up, you did.”
“Thank you for sharing that fascinating bit of Whitney childhood lore,” Edie said. “I’m sure the captain would be thrilled if you shared even more embarrassing details from my private life.”
How to Marry a Royal Highlander Page 6
