“We can stand here in the wind, arguing over your valise, or you can get inside the warmth of the carriage,” he said.
“Surely you realize the impropriety of such an act,” she said firmly. “I am attempting to keep the tattered remnants of my good name intact, so that I may hopefully secure another situation. I’ll never be hired as a governess if I am being squired about by rogues at midnight.”
“You’ll not be needing another situation as a governess,” he said easily. “My actions this evening were inexcusable, and I intend to take the necessary steps to ensure you don’t suffer further harm. To that end, I have a proposition to make.”
It struck her then, Torrington’s insistence that she go into his carriage with him. His refusal to relinquish her valise. Surely he didn’t intend to make her his mistress. He had the beautiful Lady Worthing already, and a handsome rake like the viscount wouldn’t look twice at a wallflower such as herself. What did he want with her? Was it guilt that spurred him?
“Whatever your proposition is, I cannot help but think it ruinous.” She shook her head. “No, my lord. I’ll not be accepting any offers you make.”
He raised a brow, looking down at her with an inscrutable expression. “Perhaps you speak with too much haste, my dear.”
“I amnotyour dear,” she reminded him icily as the wind whipped at the both of them again.
He frowned, determination settling over his handsome features. “The carriage. Now. You’re shivering.”
So she was. It was going to be a dreadfully cold night. If she failed to find somewhere respectable to sleep, she shuddered to think what would become of her.
Elizabeth intended to offer further protest, but somehow, the viscount’s arm had swept around her waist, and he was guiding her to the carriage. The conveyance beckoned, blessedly free of unforgiving wind. And she was suddenly weary, as if the weight that had threatened her all night had finally fallen on her shoulders.
Perhaps she could sacrifice her pride, if only to warm herself and find a ride to wherever she would be spending the night. She allowed the viscount to help her back into the carriage she had vacated what now seemed a lifetime ago. Primly, she settled herself on the seat with far more grace than the previous occasion had allowed. He joined her and seated himself opposite, making the confines of the carriage feel far more cramped than it had before. So much more intimate now that her initial fear of earlier, coupled with anger, had dissipated.
He settled her valise on the floor at his feet. “What direction shall I give my coachman?”
She swallowed hard against a rising knot of dread. “I haven’t decided yet, my lord.”
He frowned, looking stern and serious quite unlike the devil-may-care rakehell who had spirited her away earlier. “Where were you intending to go?”
“I don’t know.”
The frown deepened. “Have you anywhere that you can spend the night this evening, madam?”
“No,” she admitted quietly, cheeks burning with shame. “I haven’t.”
“Christ.” His jaw tightened, and he scrubbed a hand over the slashing edge in a weary gesture. “Eugenia dismissed you from your post and sent you into the night without a thought for what might become of you?”
Yes, indeed she had. And that was the manner of viper with whom he had shared his bed. But Elizabeth would not say so aloud. She was terribly cognizant that she was adrift in the vast sea of London, neither funds, nor family, nor situation to mire her.
“I expect Lady Worthing did not deem my welfare her concern any longer, given the nature of her ire,” she answered carefully instead.
“And once again, I am at fault for that.” He sighed heavily. “Good God, this is worse than I thought. Where did you live before you became governess?”
“My mother’s distant cousin, Lady Andromeda Harting, but her reduced circumstances and ill health left her without ability to provide for me some time ago. She has gone to Bath, and her house has been let.”
He grumbled an epithet that made her cheeks burn and then was silent, stroking his jaw. Elizabeth found herself fascinated by his long fingers, wondering what they would feel like, tangled in hers. Touching her bare skin. And then her cheeks stung even more furiously, for she had long ago been cured of her inconvenienttendrefor this man. A man who didn’t even remember her and likely hadn’t ever noticed her. What folly was this?
“I’ll take you to my sister,” the viscount said suddenly.
“Your sister?” Elizabeth was not so far removed from Society that she wasn’t aware of who his sister was—the Duchess of Montrose. “I wouldn’t dare impose on Her Grace.”
“I’ll explain everything to her. It won’t be an imposition for long.”
“My lord, it’s the midst of the night,” she protested, her stomach tightening with dread at the prospect of appearing at the duke and duchess’s town house at this late hour, having been dismissed of her post for reasons that did not bear repeating in polite society. “I don’t suppose their Graces would welcome a stranger into their home.”
“They will,” Torrington countered before calling up to his coachman with their destination.
The carriage lumbered into motion.
“My lord, I cannot think this wise,” she fretted, although the prospect of wandering London alone in search of a roof over her head for the night loomed, utterly terrifying.
