by Renee Ryan
Bump.
Bump. Bump.
Grinding her teeth together, she continued concentrating on mathematics. Seventy-eight divided by six equals—
Bump, bump, bump.
Oh, for crying out loud. That last one had to be the size of a small canyon. They hit another, even larger bump. She had to cover her mouth with her hand to keep her yelp from spilling out.
“Had enough?” The calm, amused voice cut through the roar of the engine.
Tossing aside the blanket and Hester’s shawl, Elizabeth smoothed a hand over her hair, stretched out her legs, then pulled herself up to the seat. “You, Lucian Griffin, are a very bad, mean, mean man.”
Chapter Sixteen
Holding back a chuckle, Luke slowed the motorcar and, seeing that they were alone on the road, glanced at Elizabeth over his shoulder.
She glowered back.
Well, all right, then.
He rearranged his face in a look of mock horror, putting some real effort into the task. “I might be mean, but you, Little Bit, are a menace to any rational man’s sanity.”
Her glower deepened.
There was nothing compliant or obedient about her now. She was stunning in her indignation, her eyes a dove gray in the pale, weak light. No, blue gray. They seemed to change color even as he watched her, the irises darkening with emotion.
What passion. Staring at that beautiful, dramatic face, Luke felt the stirrings of male interest, a sort of yearning, the kind he’d never felt for a woman.
He whipped his attention back to the road. He had no right thinking of her as anything but his Little Bit.
After hitting every pothole in the street, he had anticipated some level of irritation on Elizabeth’s part. What he had not expected was his reaction to her outrage. Her face was transformed, and he felt as though he was looking at Elizabeth yet someone else entirely.
The soft glow of her skin and the fullness of her lips belonged to a different woman, one who knew what she wanted out of life and was determined to get it, with or without his help.
Hard not to admire that level of commitment to a goal.
Luke had a moment of clarity. Elizabeth didn’t need to go on any quest to become a woman of substance. She already was one. She simply didn’t know it yet.
There was no joy in the knowledge, no triumph. Because if Luke recognized her unique appeal, so would other men.
After leaving Bertie and company, Luke had decided to approach Elizabeth again about her list. No, that was a lie. He’d come looking for her because he’d needed her purity, her goodness.
You, Lucian Griffin, are a very bad, mean, mean man.
Elizabeth had no idea how accurately she’d summed up his nature. Abruptly, he laughed.
“I’m glad one of us finds this situation amusing.”
He didn’t find any of this funny. When other men discovered what Luke already knew, there would be a mad dash for Elizabeth’s attention. As if to put a fine point on the thought, the temperature dropped several degrees. The cold air swept over him like a menacing breath.
“Where are we going?” she asked, her voice a study in peevishness.
He could tell her he’d gone to St. James House to steal her away for the day. He could tell her his original plan had been to take her out to the country, where they could walk in the impending shower without being seen. He could also tell her that stowing away in his backseat had been unnecessary.
But it was a matter of principle he not make the next few minutes easy for her. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
A rustle of material accompanied her sniff of irritation. “Take me home.”
“And waste all your efforts?” He swerved to the right, this time missing the crater in the pocked street. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed how the sudden movement threw her off balance.
“You did that on purpose.”
Taking satisfaction in her surly tone, he blessed her with a brief sidelong glance. “I’m thinking this little adventure of yours isn’t going the way you planned.”
A roll of distant thunder punctuated his remark.
“I didn’t have a plan.”
The sound he made was half laugh, half hiss. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“It was more a guideline.”
His grip tightened on the wheel. “A . . . guideline.”
“One I am regretting with each passing moment.”
It was about time the reckless woman started thinking rationally.
“You can let me off at the next street corner. I’ll make my way home on foot.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Gentlemen do not allow ladies of their acquaintance to make their way home alone, on foot or otherwise.”
“Oh, honestly, you allowed me to do so the other morning.”
He hadn’t done any such thing. But with the dark mood she was currently nursing, Luke decided no good would come from correcting her misconception on that score.
“Luke, this is 1901. We are living in a brand-new century where possibilities abound.” She set her elbows on the back of his seat and leaned forward, a piece of her hair tickling his cheek. “Women can do all sorts of things alone.”
Another low chuckle reverberated from deep within his chest. “Including stowing away in an unattached man’s motorcar?”
“Well, yes.”
They rolled along in silence for several seconds. The Brooklyn Bridge loomed large and sturdy in the distance. Luke had half a mind to do as Elizabeth requested and return her to the safety of St. James House.
In for a penny, in for a pound. “I assume stowing away in my motorcar is one of the items on your loathsome list.”
She sighed dramatically. “I should have known you would be rude and sanctimonious.”
“Actually, I’m being patronizing. And you didn’t answer my question.”
“No, Luke, stowing away in your motorcar is not on my list.” She sniffed indelicately. “Such ego.”
He felt his lips twitch. The woman certainly had cheek. He’d give her that. He counted to five, then glanced at her over his shoulder. “You still haven’t explained why you were hiding in my motorcar.”
“My current presence in your motorcar is a means to an end, a way to forward my plan that wasn’t really a plan, as you oh-so-helpfully pointed out.” She paused to take a breath. “I had hoped to mark number ten off my list.”
“What is number ten, precisely?”
She pasted a winning smile on her face. “Drive a motorcar.”
“Your father and grandfather own motorcars.”
“There you go again, being oh-so-helpful.”
Ignoring the sassy remark, he veered the car to the far right side of the road, pulled to a stop, and turned a questioning look on the woman in his backseat.
Back ramrod straight, she took her time smoothing her skirts around her. “If you must know—”
“I must.”
Her gaze narrowed.
He waited.
“If you must know,” she began again, “I couldn’t figure out how to start the stupid engine of my father’s Oldsmobile. And, so”—she lifted her hands helplessly in the air—“here I am.”
Luke had been right. Elizabeth St. James was a menace, a danger to herself and the rest of New York City.
Okay, the latter might be a slight exaggeration.
“Let me see if I understand the sequence of events. You decided to drive a motorcar, a simple enough task on your list, seeing as you have access to not one but two stellar machines. But, apparently, simple isn’t in your vocabulary.”
“You don’t have to be snide.”
He continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “When you couldn’t figure out how to start the engine, instead of asking your grandfather’s chauffeur for advice, you stowed away in my motorcar.”
The eyes that met his were a stormy blue. “While I’ll admit you make a valid point—”
He lifted an eyebrow.
“Several valid points,” she amended, sighing dramatically. “I’m on a deadline, Luke. Time is running out.”
“You still plan to go to England and marry a Brit?” Emotion scraped the words raw.
“Yes.”
If she’d slapped him in the face, he wouldn’t have been more surprised. He scooped a hand through his hair, ignoring the big, gaping pit that now sat where his stomach used to be.
“I set sail for England in just over six weeks,” she added for emphasis. “And I’ve only accomplished two items on my list.”
“That’s two more than last week.”
She swallowed, glanced away, then boldly looked back at him. “Will you help me tackle the rest?”
The plea in her big, fathomless eyes cut him to the core. Needing a moment, he glanced up at the sky. The sun hid behind dull gray clouds, creating a gloomy feel to the air, a perfect match for his mood.
He adjusted his shoulders as if taking on a weight. Then, shifting slightly, he reached over the seat and took her hand, linking their fingers together. “If I agree to help you, you have to give me a say over the items on your list. I insist upon it.”
The eyes that met his were narrowed to tiny slits, blue lightning to match the thunder outside. “Coming to you was a bad idea. I won’t trouble you with this again.” Yanking back her hand, she reached for the door handle.
“Elizabeth, wait.”
Her hand dropped away from the latch, and she slowly, almost reluctantly turned back to face him.
“Don’t look so tragic, and listen to me. No sighing, no interrupting, just let me have my say.”
After a brief hesitation, she nodded.
His eyes slid past her, brushed over the hood of the motorcar, then slid back to her face. And then Luke said the three words that would change both their lives forever. “I’ll do it.”
“Do what? I need you to be more specific.”
Give the woman an inch . . .
“I’ll assist you with the tasks on your list.”
“You . . .” She puffed out her cheeks, released the air. “Oh, Luke, you truly mean it?”
If it meant having this woman look at him like that, he would attempt to move the moon and stars with his bare hands. “I do.”
“Thank you.”
The pleasure in her gaze was his undoing. He suddenly, desperately, wanted to share one of his greatest passions with her, and so he said, “Want to learn how to drive a motorcar?”
“Yes. Oh, yes.” Her face lit from within, and her smile was the same one she’d given him after their brief kiss. The one that had hardly been a kiss and yet had left him reeling.
His heart lurched in his chest.
This is a bad idea.
“One lesson. But not in Manhattan, somewhere out in the country.”
“I’ll take what I can get.”
“Come sit in the front with me.” He patted the empty seat beside him.
With ingrained dignity, she exited out on the street, secured her pretty red shawl around her shoulders, then reentered the motorcar a second later, settling on the exact spot he’d indicated.
The interior immediately shrank, the extra space crowded out by her very presence. Her scent hit him like a punch to the gut, and there it was again, the whirlpool of feelings and emotions sweeping away all common sense.
He examined every angle of her face, her smiling mouth, her beautiful eyes, then quickly looked away and focused on getting them out of Manhattan. After releasing the brake, he worked the foot pedals, moved the hand controls into the proper positions, and then pulled away from the curb.
“Here we go.” Elizabeth’s voice held nothing but excitement at the prospect of learning how to drive his motorcar.
Luke felt nothing but dread.
In her shadowed side of the front seat, Elizabeth battled a very real desire to gloat. At last. At last! Luke had agreed to join her on her quest. She hid a smile of triumph behind her hand.
Luke’s stony silence disturbed her not one bit.
Clutching the shawl around her shoulders—Oh, Hester, I wish you were here—Elizabeth watched the scenery roll past. Large private homes soon gave way to multistory buildings that housed businesses.
Glancing from left to right, right to left, she was aware of every sight, sound, and smell with a clarity of sensation that had her breath coming in snatches.
She was especially conscious of the man beside her. The way he worked the controls, with such precision and skill, made her stomach pitch. Luke had a quiet, confident edge that made Elizabeth feel all twitchy inside.
They were halfway across the Brooklyn Bridge when she decided she’d left him to his silence long enough. “How much longer before I get to drive?”
“Soon.”
She didn’t especially like that answer.
“Is it difficult?”
“At first.”
Wasn’t he a plethora of information?
As if hearing her thoughts, he flicked a glance in her direction. “It gets easier with time and practice.”
Glancing up to the sky, she noted that the clouds were darker now, fat and swollen, poised for their watery attack. A little hum worked its way past her lips. “I would think driving a motorcar is harder in the rain.”
“You would be right.”
The first droplets hit the windshield. More followed.
Well, drat. She closed her eyes momentarily, listening to the patter of raindrops on the tarpaulin overhead. She breathed in deep, drew in the scent of rain and petrol and Luke.
“We’ll have to hold off on your lesson,” he said, turning the motorcar onto a dirt road. He steered them under a large shade tree and cut the engine. “We’ll wait out the rain here.”
She nodded, forced a smile to hide her disappointment. This didn’t have to be a bad thing. There were other items on her list. Outside the rain pattered on, and . . .
Her disappointment instantly vanished. She swiveled her head. Her gaze met Luke’s. “I have a sudden passion to take off my shoes.”
He laughed, a quick, pleasant sound that filled the interior of the motorcar. “Ah, my dear, sweet Elizabeth. There is no one quite like you.”
“Is that a good thing?”
Eyes twinkling with humor, he leaned toward her, lowering his voice to a near whisper. “A very good thing.”
Oh, my. She shook off a delicious shiver and stared into his mesmerizing eyes.
A blanket of silence enveloped them, fractured only by the sound of raindrops hitting the makeshift roof. Despite the chill in the air, a feeling of warmth stole over her.
“Let’s get to it,” he suggested, looking pointedly at her feet, then getting to work on his own shoes.
I’m really going to do this. It occurred to her that this was to be a real adventure. The first time she’d ever done anything just for herself. She couldn’t think of anyone she’d rather share the moment with than Luke.
At his suggestion, she removed her gloves and shawl as well. “You’ll want them dry when we’re back in the car.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
Finishing before she did, he spared her one last glance before exiting his side of the motorcar. Too impatient to wait for him to open the door for her, she scrambled onto the grass and met him five seconds later near the tree trunk.
He took her hand and, in silent agreement, they stepped out from beneath the leafy canopy, heading into an empty field. The rain was a slow, steady stream falling from the sky, cool on her skin but not unpleasant. Elizabeth had never felt more glorious, more aware of every sight and sound. A million wildflowers blanketed the field, a kaleidoscope of color against a carpet of green.
They walked in silence, hand in hand. Wet grass tickled between her toes. She laughed. Emotion was gathering inside her, something she recognized as happiness. The rain slowly let off, turning into a misty drizzle.
Luke stopped walking and shifted in fron
t of her.
Through the gray haze of rain, their eyes met with a force that nearly flattened her. A thousand words passed between them without a sound.
Shivering slightly, Elizabeth dragged the dripping hair out of her face. Too many feelings tugged and tangled inside her. She felt jittery inside and alive, so alive it hurt. She closed her eyes, tipped her head back, and let the rain trickle down her face.
“Elizabeth.” Luke’s voice was low and gravelly and full of something she’d never heard in it before, something solely for her. “Look at me.”
She did as he requested. He’d collected silver points of rain everywhere, on his hair, his shoulders, his eyelashes.
His hand came up and cupped the back of her head, drawing her closer. Just a little bit closer.
“Are we about to cross a line?” she asked.
“Look behind you, Elizabeth. We already have.”
He was going to kiss her.
His eyes locked with hers.
Her hands went to his shoulders.
For a moment, his mask fell and emotion showed through the misty droplets of rain, so clear, so real, something she understood on an elemental level. Gaze locked with his, she didn’t have to search long to see her own tender feelings mirrored in Luke’s expression.
This man, she wanted this man, not an English lord, not a man chosen by her father and grandfather, no one but Luke. And maybe, finally, he was beginning to see her as more than his Little Bit.
His head moved toward hers, obvious intent in his eyes, then paused. “I’m trying to do right, to be honorable.”
Tomorrow he could have honor. Today, she wanted him to be hers, with no conditions or concerns for the future, just the here and now. Just one glorious moment that she could keep with her for eternity.
Feeling unusually bold, she pulled him closer to her, until her hands were clasped behind his neck. She could feel the shift in his breathing, the tension that would have been undetectable were she not so close.
His eyes darkened. Something not altogether tame flashed in their depths.
The world faded away, and there was nothing but the two of them, in the middle of a rain-drenched field, scandalously barefoot, Luke’s golden gaze on her face, his masculine warmth chasing away the cold.
She whispered his name, so soft even she wasn’t sure she’d spoken.
