Again, the thought occurred to him that he could rid himself of the inconvenience at the cost of prolonging the scandal from that evening at Almack’s. Again, as he had done in his conversation with Edric, he delayed the decision, pushing the thought aside.
“Ready the carriage to carry Her Grace and myself to Silverton Hall at once,” he ordered.
“Thank you,” Georgia whispered as they walked to the front door of Westvale Manor, Rutherford having departed to carry out his master’s orders.
“I merely wish to end the argument and procure your cooperation.”
“And I am grateful.”
“Then all I ask is that you recall that gratitude when it is required this evening.”
Again, that low laugh. Keaton heard his own words, recognized the double meaning. The sound of the carriage wheels told him the conveyance had arrived outside. He smiled despite himself.
“That was not innuendo,” he whispered, lips twitching.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Georgia replied with a smile in her voice.
As the carriage began its journey, Keaton winced at a particularly brutal bump. Georgia gasped as another jostled them. The cushions were old and thin—the braces intended to cushion the ride were not as effective as they had been when new.
Keaton braced himself with a hand on the roof and put an arm about Georgia instinctively to protect her from excess movement.
“My best carriage was the one that suffered the accident today,” he explained, “this one has not seen service since my father’s time. It is less than ideal.”
“It certainly is…” Georgia began to say, but another bump, poorly absorbed by the leather-threaded straps that suspended the body of the carriage on its wheels, caused her teeth to click shut.
“It certainly is not…” She tried again with the same result.
This time, she just laughed, leaning into Keaton and putting her arms about his waist as another lurch almost threw her from the seat. Keaton held tightly to a strap on the roof, using every ounce of his strength to secure them both.
“This would not be…” he began.
Bump.
“Would not be necessary…” he tried again.
Bump. Bump.
“Damn…!” he roared.
Bump.
The only sound he could complete was a bark of laughter, which was echoed by Georgia. They abandoned conversation entirely. Georgia held onto him tightly, and Keaton found himself relishing the closeness. He tried to recall the reasons he had wanted to divest himself of her. The reasons that had driven him to agree with his Uncle. They seemed hazy now while her presence was a physical reality that he could not deny.
I will not think about it now. This is not the time.
The journey to Silverton was interminable, and Keaton lost all sense of time. He took out his pocket watch, deftly feeling for thehands which would normally have been protected behind glass. Such protection would make Keaton's watch unusable. It had taken the better part of an hour, which meant time was tight for them to deal with the crises, return, and dress for dinner before traveling to Swinthorpe House.
He ground his teeth and then felt Georgia’s hand patting his chest gently. The touch was soothing, and he wondered if she had felt his body tense in annoyance and was trying to calm him.
Very astute and perceptive if she did.
“Silverton Hall, Your Grace!” the driver called out at last.
“We are, of course, most flattered by the visit, but this is also highly irregular. We were about to dine,” Uncle Benjamin said, greeting Georgia and Keaton in the entrance hall of his house.
“Do not worry, Silverton, this is a flying visit,” Keaton replied with a brush of his hand, “we have an engagement of our own for dinner.”
“I would like to speak to Amelia, please, Uncle Benjamin.”
