Since she was so frightfully cold by now that it required the most exacting effort to prevent her teeth chattering, she gave in with tolerable good grace.
The landlord greeted them cheerfully and obsequiously, for he knew quality when he saw it, and was pleased to offer his best private parlour to the gentleman and his sister when Charles requested it. If he thought it odd behaviour for a gentleman to carry his sister on a journey, in this weather, in an open carriage, and with little or no baggage—well, there was no accounting for what the quality might do. He bowed them into a comfortable-appearing room and while he bustled about, starting a fire to warm them, Charles helped Elizabeth remove her pelisse and bonnet and seated her in one of the wing-chairs beside the fireplace. He then excused himself and followed the landlord from the room.
He returned just as the waiter, carrying a tray which contained a bottle of wine, a pot of tea and some cold meats, arrived. When they were seated at the table, Elizabeth said, “I must own that some tea will be very welcome, but I don’t care to eat anything.”
“Nonsense! You haven’t eaten since this morning. It will do us no good if you faint from hunger later on. Come, you’ll feel more the thing after a few bites.”
She was annoyed at being obliged to admit, again, that he was right, but as she could see the wisdom of his words, she once more acquiesced and placed some food on her plate. Before she had taken her second bite, she found that she had been far hungrier than she had thought, and they both set about the business of eating in silence.
When she had finished, she looked up to see that Charles had turned his chair sideways and was sitting at his ease, one arm resting on the table, his long, shapely legs stretched out before him, his booted feet crossed at the ankles. He was watching her with a peculiar expression, impossible to read, and with a slight smile upon his lips.
She returned his smile and said, “Well. you were right, of course. I feel much better now and am ready to leave whenever you are. Naturally, we shall not get back before nightfall, but I am persuaded that we need not regard that.”
His eyes remained fixed on her face as he picked up his wineglass and sipped from it before answering her. “My dear,” he said apologetically, “I hardly know how to tell you this, but I have engaged rooms for us here, for the night.”
She stared at him, too shocked to be capable of speech.
He continued softly, “If you will but think, you will realize that I could do nothing else. Were the weather more agreeable, we might make it back with no insurmountable difficulty. However, with this snow it would be the height of folly to attempt it.”
“Oh, but a few snowflakes—what can they signify? They cannot continue for long!”
He smiled ruefully. “If you will but look out of that window behind you, you shall see that you are mistaken.”
She turned her head towards the window, then jumped up and ran to it. What had been, on their arrival, a few flurries, was now a full-fledged blizzard, with the wind driving a heavy curtain of snow before it. The ground was covered, and she realized that she had been hearing the whistling of the wind for some time without being aware of it.
“Oh! Of course we cannot leave,” she cried. Then, after a few moments she turned and murmured, “How foolish of me. I can’t seem to think clearly.”
He had followed her to the window, and now placed his hands on her shoulders. For just an instant she thought he meant to take her in his arms, and felt an almost overwhelming desire to take the one small step that would permit her to melt against him and lay her head on his chest. Instead, after a small hesitation, he took her hand, led her to her chair by the fireplace and gently urged her into it before moving to the other.
“My poor girl,” he said tenderly, “you have endured a great deal today, have you not?”
She sat upright in her chair, hands folded in her lap, and said, “It’s the most absurd thing. I’m perfectly sure I ought to be concerned about any number of things, but all I seem able to think is that I have no change of clothes or even any tooth powder.”
He grinned rather uneasily, for all the world as though he were a small boy guilty of mischief, as he said, “Well, do you know, it is one of my excessively strange habits that I like to be prepared for all eventualities. Before leaving the house, I had Melanie’s abigail throw a few of her things into a portmanteau. Of course, the gown may be a trifle short, and there is no tooth powder.”
She wrinkled her brow. “How very odd of you. How—”
He interrupted hastily, “And perhaps I can relieve at least one other of your concerns by telling you that I have no intention of taking advantage of our situation to ravish you!”
“Oh, no! I know you would not! What a shabby trick that would be to play on a friend!”
He threw his head back and laughed. “You are delightful! And if I had had the dastardly intention of playing you false, in spite of my promise, that sentiment would put paid to it.”
She answered his grin, sinking back into her chair, and they sat quietly for a time, watching the flames of the fire.
At last Charles stood and went to the table. “Would you care for a glass of wine, my dear? Or would you prefer that I call for some ratafia?”
“The wine, please.” She smiled.
He poured two glasses and carried them back to the fire, handed her one and seated himself again.
She took a sip before suddenly exclaiming. “Oh! We have not given one thought to poor Melanie! I wonder where she may be.”
His mouth twisted sardonically. “If my theory is correct, poor Melanie is just where she ought to be— in Bath with her mother!”
She looked astonished. “I beg your pardon, but I seem to be more than usually dull-witted today. I don’t understand you!”
He hesitated before asking what seemed an irrelevant question. “My sweet, is your aunt pleased with your apparent preference for the single state?”
“Oh, no!” she laughed. “She is forever scolding me and lamenting over it.”
“Well, my own dear sister is not only of the same mind where I am concerned, but is also an inveterate matchmaker, and a schemer of the first water, to boot—with few scruples to her credit!”
“Good God! You cannot mean what I think you do! That Lady Langley and Aunt Emily planned this whole contretemps? No! I cannot credit it! It would be too insane—too monstrous of them!” Then she added triumphantly, “And besides, they couldn’t possibly have known that it would come on to snow and trap us here.”
“I will own that I’m still puzzled by that aspect of it,” he said. “Well, perhaps you have the right of it. And if that is so, then Melanie is indeed on her way to Gretna Green and an elopement, and there is nothing we can do to prevent it.” He paused for a moment, frowning. “In which case, I only hope that it is, in fact, marriage that Mr. Kirby has in mind.”
Elizabeth stared at him. “Oh, but surely—”
“There is nothing sure about it,” he interrupted. “What do we know of this Adrian Kirby? A marriage over the anvil would be disastrous enough, but if he should merely be bent on seduction, Melanie will most certainly be ruined. No decent man would be willing to offer her marriage after such an event.”
Gazing into his wineglass, Charles failed to see how Elizabeth’s face paled. This was much too close to her own situation, and though his assessment of the outcome agreed with her own, she could not prevent herself from asking, “But if the man loved her...?”
“My dear,” he said quietly, “no man wishes to take another man’s leavings.”
She drew a sharp breath and colour rushed back into her cheeks. She had always accepted the truth of what he’d said, but even so, such a typically male opinion struck her as being blatantly unfair, and she cried, “That is ridiculous! It is my understanding that men do so nearly every time they take a mistress!”
“That is a different matter entirely. I was speaking of marriage,” he replied rather sternly. Then his face relaxed into a s
mile as he continued, “But there is no need for us to discompose ourselves over such an unlikely occurrence. As I said before, I strongly suspect that Melanie is even now with her mother.”
Fearing that her own past experience had prompted her to respond overemphatically, Elizabeth made a deliberate attempt to calm herself and turn her thoughts to their previous conversation. Several moments passed before she was successful, but then her eyes opened wide with dawning comprehension.
“Charles! If you really thought my aunt and your sister capable of such deviousness, you are as bad as you would have me believe them to be. Worse! For, believing it, you still went along with it! Oh!—and you even brought a change of clothes! How could you?”
“No, no! Don’t be so quick to rip up at me! I only suspected it to be an underhanded plot. That being so, it was incumbent upon me to proceed with it, in case Melanie should actually be eloping. As for the change of clothes, who can say what may happen along the road? We might have lost a wheel, or one of the horses might have gone lame. Oh, any number of things might have gone awry. And I did mention, did I not, that I like to be prepared.”
She cast a suspicious look at him, but offered no further arguments, and they continued sipping their wine and gazing into the fire. She had lost track of time when Charles looked at his watch.
“I think, my dear, that we should repair to our bedchambers to refresh ourselves. I thought, too, that perhaps it would be wise to have an early dinner and retire early to bed. It has been a long and exhausting day.”
She agreed and started towards the door, but just as she reached it he touched her arm to detain her.
“One moment, please. You will remember, I hope, that I have told the landlord that you are my sister?”
“That was clever of you. Yes, I’ll remember.”
They climbed the stairs together, going to their separate bedchambers, and after splashing cold water on her face, Elizabeth felt a great deal refreshed. That done, she opened her reticule to find her comb and froze, staring bemusedly, for there in full view was her tooth powder. Only Aunt Emily could have put it there, and the knowledge came instantly that Charles’s theory had, indeed, been correct.
Those damnably wretched women! How could they have played such a despicable trick? It was certain that they had hoped to force her and Charles into marriage, and for a moment Elizabeth considered what it might be like to spend a lifetime with him. She was a little shocked to realize that the notion was far from unpleasant and even more shocked to realize the reason for that. How long had she been in love with him?
CHAPTER EIGHT
Feeling suddenly as though her legs would no longer hold her up, Elizabeth sat down abruptly on the edge of the bed.
For several moments, her mind was blank, her brain seemingly paralyzed by the stunning effect of her momentous discovery, and when it began to function again, one refrain ran through it repeatedly. She loved him. She loved Charles, loved him with all her heart and soul, and would give all she possessed if only she could be his wife. For a short while she was filled with a sense of wonder and joy.
But what was she thinking of? She could not marry Charles without first telling him of her own less-than-virtuous state, and how could she tell him when he had proven to be such a high stickler—a veritable prig, according to his sister—when it came to marriage and ladies of quality. Besides, she did not wish to give up her prized freedom and independence, did she? No! Of course not, she told herself firmly. But then, why was she feeling this ridiculous urge to weep?
In order to hold such traitorous feelings at bay, she reminded herself that Charles had no desire to marry, and furthermore, he had, only a short time earlier, implicitly recalled to her the fact that no man would wish to take her to wife. She felt a reviving surge of anger at that injustice, but it was soon followed by another wave of sadness. If only Charles...
She shook her head in self-disgust. It was madness for her to be entertaining these thoughts. She would be much better occupied in attempting to find a way out of this muddle. Thank heaven, Charles had had the great good sense to say that she was his sister. They would come about somehow.
Suddenly aware of the passage of time, she quickly ran the comb through her curls, arranging them in a simple style, and not knowing whether to feel relieved or regretful, she descended to the parlour where Charles awaited her.
The dinner presently served them proved to be passably good, but was consumed with less appreciation than it might conceivably have received had their minds not been otherwise engaged.
It was not until they were once again ensconced before the fire that Charles, lazily regarding the flames through his brandy glass, said casually, “I wonder, my dear, if you fully realize all the implications of our predicament.”
“By all means! I am not stupid! I’m well aware that it will require the greatest care if we are to avoid a scandal. At the least, there may be some speculation, I suppose, but I shan’t regard that.” She smiled brightly to show him how little she regarded it.
“My foolish, naive girl. There is only one thing to be done. You must marry me.”
For several moments, Elizabeth simply looked at Charles, surprised that he sounded so composed, so undisturbed. Then, as she realized that he was waiting for her answer, she insisted, “Oh, no! What nonsense! That isn’t at all necessary. I shall say that I have been visiting friends overnight.”
He frowned. “Now that is nonsense! I fear it will be an impossibility to keep the truth hidden. Too many people are aware of it: your aunt, my sister, Wiggons—and if he knows, very likely all the servants do. Furthermore, there is no saying who may have seen us drive out of town together.” He reached for her hand, saying more gently, “Surely you must see that there is no other way. You must marry me.”
“No! I am persuaded that it is not necessary!” she cried.
He had remained fairly calm up to this point, but impatience was now evident in the way he ran his hand through his hair and sounded clearly in his voice as he said, “If you do not regard the damage to your own reputation, then you might consider my feelings in the matter. For I’ll tell you, in no uncertain terms, my girl, that I don’t intend to have it said of me that I compromised you and did not marry you!”
Her chin lifted stubbornly. “I suppose I should feel honoured that you are willing to make such a great sacrifice on my behalf, but I cannot allow it. I shall no doubt survive any damage to my reputation, and I should think that your reputation as a rake could only be enhanced.”
“You are being foolish beyond belief!” he returned irritably. “I had no idea that you would find the thought of marriage to me so repugnant!”
“Oh, no! I do not!” she cried, unwilling to allow him to believe that it was him she rejected. “It is the thought of marriage itself that I find repugnant.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “I find such a statement from any female astounding! Unless— No, never mind.”
It had occurred to him that she was speaking of the physical intimacy implied by marriage and that it was this which she found distasteful. Good God! He would never have thought it of her. She had so much liveliness and warmth in her character that it was difficult to credit that she might be cold in that respect.
His frowning gaze was beginning to make Elizabeth uncomfortable, and finally she said, “Well, I am glad that you have decided to be sensible about this. I shall think of another way.”
“Don’t be idiotic!” was his terse rejoinder. “I have not changed my mind, and if your chin gets any higher, you are going to put a permanent crick in your neck!”
“Oh!” she breathed, glaring at him. “Well, neither have I changed my mind!”
They sat there exchanging glares until, unexpectedly, Charles began to laugh. Though at first she was incensed that he could find their argument amusing, it was not long until a smile began to tug at her own mouth.
At last, Charles, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, said, “I believe we a
re having our first fight, my love,” and as she opened her mouth to answer, he stopped her with “No, no! Let us cry quit for tonight. I’ve no wish to come to cuffs with you. We are both tired and will do better to postpone this discussion until tomorrow.”
Elizabeth had to agree with him. “Very well. Until tomorrow, then. And if you do not mind, I think that I shall retire now.”
“Certainly, my dear,” he answered, and walked her to the door, where he placed both hands on her shoulders and dropped a light kiss on her forehead.
She murmured a hasty “Good night” and hurried from the room before he could see the devastating effect that innocent kiss had had upon her. Charles stood there for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face before going up to his own chamber.
Soon after meeting Elizabeth, he had admitted to himself that the very first sight of her had tipped him a leveller, and that had never happened to him before. But he had convinced himself that he could enjoy a brief flirtation with her, and then go on his way with neither of them the worse for it. It was not long before he knew that he was deceiving himself.
To become serious over any female, no matter how entrancing she might be, had never been part of his plan for the future, and when he began to suspect just how deeply he was coming to care for Elizabeth, his instinct had been to hare off to Brent-wood, putting as much distance between them as possible. However, it was not his way to run from anything or anyone. And so he had stayed, and had become more besotted with her each day, which had forced him to re-examine his disinclination to become leg-shackled. Was it possible that his aversion had become nothing more than habit?
He knew that his chief motive for shunning marriage had always been the fact that he had never found a female who did not bore or disgust him within a very short time of meeting her. In his considerable experience, chaste females tended to fall into one of two categories. They were either insufferably insipid, brainless chits, or they were stiff-necked pattern cards of propriety. Even more intolerable were those less-than-chaste females who masqueraded as ladies of quality. At least the lightskirts of his acquaintance had the virtue of honesty—with regard to whom and what they were—to recommend them.
The Thoroughly Compromised Bride Page 6
