Selwyn thumped his fist on the carriage roof and called“Drive on!”to his coachman perched high upon the box.Returning his focus to his companion, he offered, “We can huddle together for warmth, if you like.”
She laughed at that absurd suggestion.“I’m certain I wouldn’t know what to do with myself,” she admitted, “You see, I’ve never been alone in a carriage with a man before.”
“I’ve never been quite alone with a lady, so we’re both in uncharted territory.”
He’d always been careful not to take any risks, get himself into any trouble, or behave inappropriately.Yet it was the festive season, and folk tended to overstep the usual bounds in the spirit of merrymaking.Was it really such an unpardonable sin to be alone with one’s friend?
The landau eased forward.His team of matched greys stepped from the kerbstone and joined the line of vehicles proceeding along Park Lane.Theirs would be a journey of about half an hour through Piccadilly, Pall Mall, and Charing Cross, depending on the traffic.
Selwyn was in no rush to reach the Embankment now that he had Miss Goldsworthy all to himself.They clipped along at a leisurely pace, the landau swaying gently.The rhythm of the horses’ hooves was pleasantly muffled behind lacquered wood, polished leather, and glass.
His large form took up too much space on the bench seat, and no matter how he positioned his legs on the squabs, some part of him bumped against some part of her.Knees knocked and toes touched.She laughingly tucked her skirt hems against her heeled boots to give him a few spare inches of room across from her.
“Have you always been so…hale and hearty, Your Grace?”
He laughed through his mortification.“Oh, always!I prefer to blame it on my rambunctious country youth—years of good, clean, Yorkshire air and all that—but truthfully, my father was a big man.He grew portly in his later days, but I think if he had kept his health, a bit of weight would not have slowed him down.As for me, I am fit and my heart is strong.”
“Was it heart failure that took your father?”
He nodded.“Yes, and cancer killed my mother whilst she was the very picture of health.”
“I am sorry,” she said earnestly.“I’ve often wondered what my family history is like, or whether I am prone to any illnesses or hereditary conditions, but I suppose it doesn’t matter in the end.We must seize happiness where we can find it, and endeavor to live out our days fully and purposefully, so that when death does eventually come for us, we might look back with no regrets.”
“I quite agree.”
Miss Goldsworthy spoke softly, yet with conviction.She had put him in his place on that first day with his family when the two of them had wandered behind the Christmas tree.She refused to allow her dubious parentage to dominate her life, and she would not feel ashamed for the one small part of her selfhood which she couldn’t change.
She was Aurelia Goldsworthy—a name she had given herself, he’d learned—irrespective of whoever sired her, or whatever man she married.He sensed something of a kindred spirit in her, for he longed to be Selwyn Charltonandthe Duke of Brantingham, though he wasn’t yet certain how to rectify the two halves of his identity.
For now, he gratified the man within and flouted propriety.He rode in a covered landau with a lady unchaperoned.He relaxed in his seat, utterly pleased with himself.Keeping her with him over the festive season had been a grand idea.She was fast becoming the light and life of his little house party.
She stared out of the window as they passed Trafalgar Square.Twilight and shadow played across her form, angled ever so slightly forward to get a better view.“It was so clever of Lady Fanetta to suggest this.I feel as if I’ve traveled to another world!I suspect there are more people in the street here than there are in the whole of Cheltenham, though I must be exaggerating.”She laughingly turned her gaze to his.“Do you ever get used to it all?”
Selwyn shrugged.“I suppose I take it for granted.One gets ‘stuck in’ and busy, and forgets to lift one’s head every now and then.Margie, Fannie, and Perry are a breath of fresh air, and so are you, Miss Goldsworthy.I have been longing to be sociable again.”
The duo of carriages turned onto the Victoria Embankment.His coachman steered the landau toward the kerb, and then pulled the horses to a smart stop alongside the River Thames.
Dozens of pedestrians milled along the waterfront in various states of dress—some men wore tall hats and knitted mufflers, others wore shabby coats and peaked caps.The ladies donned cloaks, bonnets, mantles, and muffs to fight the winter’s chill.Children shrieked and skipped across the paving stones of the broad, tree-lined thoroughfare.A young man had brought a spaniel dog to the spectacle, which barked and bounded, and added to the general chaos.
Selwyn climbed from the carriage and helped Miss Goldsworthy alight.Her smiling face grew radiant at the sight of so much jollity.Soon, Margie, Fannie, and Perry swarmed around him and all but dragged them both toward the long, neat line of Dolphin lamps along the river.
Their group settled into the crowd of cheerful-faced Londoners come to view the switching on of electric lights.Someone began to hum a Christmas carol, heightening the festivity of the moment, as though they’d all arrived from their various pilgrimages to witness something altogether more wondrous.
He reached for Miss Goldsworthy’s hand among the masses, and—finding her—laced his fingers with hers.
As the last rays of a late December sun began to fade behind the slate rooftops and soot-choked chimney pots, the Charlton family turned their eyes to the glass orbs of the street lamps lining the Embankment.A hush fell over the visitors while they awaited the flickering buzz of the future.
“Is there any danger, Your Grace?”she asked him.
Truth be told, he did not know, for the power of electricity had only recently been harnessed, yet Selwyn promised her the one thing of which he was absolutely certain: “Don’t worry, Miss Goldsworthy, you’re safe with me.”
CHAPTER NINE
The electric candles flickered and buzzed, and then burst to life like captured stars.The line of Dolphin lamps along the Embankment was indeed a modern marvel, and many of the spectators shrank from their light.Other braver onlookers pushed forward, ‘ooh-ing’ and ‘aah-ing’, and stretching out their hands to brush their fingertips along the glass globes.
Aurelia kept her fingers laced with the Duke’s.He was the tallest of all the gentlemen present, and his glossy, brushed-silk top hat only served to make him mountainous.He was a spectacle in his own right—brawny, virile, and male.Handsome, and finely dressed, and unfailingly courteous. His Grace was every woman’s dream, yet he had escortedherto see the switching on of the lights.
She glanced up at him, happy to be here with him, even though everything had gone wrong for her along the way.She had made friends with the Charltons, and especially the Duke.In precious, unguarded moments, she dreamed that they were her own family, in a surrogate sort of way.
