He was treading into dangerous territory, traveling alone with such an entrancing, but unobtainable woman. But a day of restraint would bring him much closer to reaching his dream.
“I—yes, I’ll take her to Saltford.”
“Splendid.” Bumbletwit beamed, as though he hadn’t been bemoaning his lot in life mere moments earlier, and gave Will a nod before striding into his wife’s bedchamber like a man who had solved all of life’s problems.
Will dug his fingers through his hair, wondering if he would regret this decision. But he only needed to get her to Saltford, and the rest of his life would begin. Nothing on the road could possibly change his course.
Chapter 5
Prior to that afternoon,Adelaide had not known it was possible to sweat from every pore in her body. Her toes were dripping, her ears damp. She suspected her elbows had developed the ability to secrete perspiration. No matter which way she positioned herself on the carriage bench, how quickly she fanned herself withThe Odyssey, she remained uncomfortable,sticky.
Poor Will must be miserable out in the sun—
No. If she thought about the blacksmith who had starred in her fantasies the night before, whose face was replacing the rough illustrations in her magazine, she would only grow hotter. They’d barely spoken as he settled her into the carriage. And that was for the best, after all, for what good could come from conversing with him? She was on her way to herhusband, the man who would give her the life she wanted.
But is a loveless marriage what you want?
She slapped her book down on her lap, embracing the sting on her thighs. To expect true love was a childish notion born of fairy tales. Love was a transient thing, something ephemeral that carried demands and conditions. She’d believed her mother loved her until Adelaide became a social burden. Her father had ignored her until she secured a fiancé who would give them standing in English society. Love was transactional, doled out in parcels by those in power, yours until you neglected to meet the requirements. She would love Lord Clements as a friend, admire him, support him. He already knew her most cherished secret and admired her for it.
Surely that would be enough.
Another drop of sweat gathered at her collarbone and dripped down between her breasts, and she groaned, wishing she had asked to sit at Will’s side, regardless of how inappropriate it would be. How torturous to spend hours in such proximity to the handsome specimen of masculinity and not see him. Her body was protesting her prolonged confinement, and unless she changed something about her surroundings soon, she’d combust.
A quick glance out the uncovered window revealed no sign of imminent arrival in Saltford, meaning she would be confined to this oven of a coach for several hours more. Growling her frustration, she tugged the laces of her low boots, pulled them off along with her stockings, and tossed the lot on the opposite seat. She wrenched at the bodice of her dress and shifted inside her loosened corset, but her lungs remained constrained, as though there wasn’t enough air in the carriage to sustain her. Her breaths shortened, her exhalations turning into soft whines. Black dots danced in her vision, and, in a panic, she stumbled to the carriage floor, crawled the short distance to the door that seemed unattainable, impossible.
But outside there wasair, so much she could drown in it. She stretched a trembling hand, grabbed the handle and twisted. Her periphery narrowed as she pushed,pushed, squirmed further and pushed again, and fresh air flooded the carriage. She was aware of the road rushing in a blur beneath her, the door banging against the side of the coach, but she needed more. Her lungs burned for it. So she leaned further, and the coach was shaking, slowing, good lord she needed moreair…
“Adelaide, talk to me.”
She realized several things at the same time. First, her lungs no longer burned. The air was still sticky, but there seemed to be a plentiful supply of it. Second, she wasn’t moving, but was in fact sitting and pressed against something hard and warm. Had she fallen from the carriage? Impossible, she was far too comfortable. Third, Will was speaking to her. Why was Will—
She sat forward with a start and her head swam.
Something wrapped around her, settled below her breasts and steadied her. “Easy, now. You’re not ready to stand yet.”
She eased her back again, grateful she wouldn’t be asked to move yet. Fog clouded her mind, and her current position was far more comfortable than the carriage. Perhaps she was dreaming; if so, she had no intention of forcing herself to wakefulness when she was this content. After a moment, curiosity won out, and she glanced down to see what was holding her in place.
A bare forearm, the linen shirt rolled to the elbow. Cords of muscle dusted with dark hair, a massive hand spread possessively over her ribcage. Her eyes opened wider. She was beneath a large willow tree, its long branches curling over and brushing the surface of the passing creek like the fingertips of a lover. She relaxed further, charmed by the secluded spot, the comfort of Will’s presence, the air caressing the bare skin of her legsoh good God—
Adelaide let out a shriek and grabbed the hem of her skirts, tugging it down over her feet as she rolled off his lap. Landing sideways, she scrambled onto hands and knees and stared at her rescuer.
Will held out his hands like he was taming a wild animal. “Are you all right?”
No!“What happened?”
He eased back but kept his arms extended as though she would topple over. “I heard rattling and was concerned. You were halfway out the door. If I hadn’t stopped when I did, you might have—” He paused, swallowed hard and averted his gaze. “You were unconscious, so I carried you over here.”
“I was hot in the carriage,” she babbled. “I thought it might help if it…” she trailed off, but his gentle smile had returned.
He nodded, removed his hat, and swiped a hand across his forehead. “I would have done the same had it been an option.”
She groaned and pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. "I'm so sorry. How humiliating."
He shook his head. "Don't say that. I need to take care of you."
Such a simple phrase that Adelaide immediately set to picking apart. Heneededto take care of her? Was some internal compulsion driving his actions? Was his care designated for her, or would he assist any lady in need?
Certainly it was the latter. He was being compensated for this part of the journey, after all. Of course Adelaide would assign far too much meaning to a simple action.
