Harry pushed himself out of his chair with a sigh of frustration. “Jack has his own concerns. Go to bed, Erina. I will take you.”
Did he mean just to the ferry or all the way? She would ask that question later. She jumped up. “Thank you, Harry.”
“Don’t mention it. Now, shall we get some sleep? We’re going to need it.”
“Yes. We must make an early start. Shall we breakfast at seven o’clock?” She opened the door and peered into the shadowy corridor, the candles guttering in the wall sconces. No one about. She turned to say goodnight and bumped into Harry, who was right behind her.
His hands on her shoulders, Harry pulled her toward him. He pressed his mouth on hers in a firm kiss. For a moment, her head spun, and she placed a hand on his arm to steady herself.
“Think about that.” He gave her a gentle push into the corridor and shut the door.
Erina stood staring at the closed door with a hand to her mouth. Her heart was pounding. Harry had kissed her! She turned and hurried to her room.
Safely back in her bed, Erina considered what had just happened. She trusted Harry. In a way, he was like the brother she’d never had. But that kiss! What was she to make of it? Did he think her forward? No, he knew better than that. Could it be that he wanted to marry her, after all? He’d never flirted or given her reason to suspect he wanted to.
Until the kiss. Which hadn’t exactly been flirtatious? The kiss had been more like a… a declaration that he was in charge. She should have been annoyed. Very annoyed. And yet she wasn’t.
Did he want to make her change her mind and return home? She turned over onto her side. And then onto her back. She touched her lips where the imprint of his mouth seemed to remain. As theycontinued to Holyhead, she must explain to him that there never could be anything like that between them. They were ill-matched. It just wouldn’t do. And the resentment she felt at being pushed unwillingly into a paper marriage was still raw. As if her father, whom she’d always loved, suddenly didn’t care for her feelings. That she was just a means to improve his finances. She huffed and bashed her pillow, a strange, heavy feeling in her chest. Because she hated to hurt Harry.
Erina groaned. Everything was suddenly at sixes and sevens. Tomorrow at breakfast, she wasn’t at all sure what she should say to him. Should she refer to the kiss? No, that would be awkward. She sighed. Would he treat her differently now? She was surprised to find she wanted to be treated as a potential lover. But that was foolish, surely, when he’d made it clear he didn’t want to marry her.
Chapter Nine
Early the nextmorning, Jack, in riding clothes, entered the breakfast room, where Harry tucked into a plate piled with eggs, bacon, sausage and kidneys, and Lady Erina buttered toast.
“Good morning.” Lady Erina smiled. “Excellent weather for our journey, Captain Ryder.”
“Let’s hope the rain holds off,” he replied. Beyond the window, the sky was uninterrupted blue above the treetops, but sunny skies could not be relied upon.
Having received a subdued greeting from Harry, Jack eyed him as he sat considering his food with intense interest. “I trust you slept well?”
When they both rushed to assure him they had, Jack looked from one to the other. Something had occurred between them. It must have been earlier this morning, or late last night, which would mean… No, these two had not reached that stage in their relationship. And might never, if this whole escapade could be kept from the gossip rags. Hadn’t Harry been less than enthusiastic about the match? But if he had decided to marry Lady Erina, then it would happen as surely as the sun rose in the east, as Harry was fond of saying. For he was just as dependable as the sun, usually. It appeared that Harry had changed his mind about Lady Erina. Strong emotion had brought him to this pass. Was it love?
Jack asked for coffee and investigated the hot dishes on the sideboard. He filled his plate with hot, steaming eggs, bacon, and kidneys while he considered his journey to London, and the lady he must leave behind.
As if he had conjured her up, Althea entered the room. He hadn’t expected her to appear after they’d parted in the early hours. She was pale and lovely, her unadorned black gown a perfect foil for her beauty. Every inch of him craved to be near her, to take her back to bed.
“I’m glad I caught you before you left,” she addressed Harry and Lady Erina, but her gaze flickered to Jack. Something in her eyes told him she had news. Jack saw her into her chair while the footman hurried to bring a fresh pot of tea.
“I welcome the opportunity to thank you and Lady Butterstone for your hospitality,” Harry said with a bow before regaining his seat.
“Especially at such a sad time,” Lady Erina added. “It was good of you and Lady Butterstone to welcome us into your home when we turned up at your door uninvited, Lady Althea.”
“Your cheerful company was a welcome distraction.” Althea smiled. “It will seem very quiet here after you’ve all gone.”
Sometime during the night, Althea had told Jack of her intention to return home to Lambourne Park in Oxfordshire after the funeral. She had lost one of her pet dogs, and the other tended to pine. And then there was her garden. “I sound most dreadfully dull,” she confessed.
Jack didn’t consider her dull in the least. He only wished he could share that life with her, but a bastard son of a duke couldn’t marry a marquess’s daughter.
He recalled her words in the dawn light before she’d left him: “I remain hopeful you’ll discover something, but if London sheds no light on my father’s death, let that be the end of it, Jack.”
“‘The end’?” he’d responded, trying to ignore the hollow feeling in his chest.
“Yes. You will want to continue your journey, and I intend to live quietly in the country.”
She was right, of course, but it would be devilishly hard. He felt enormous compassion for her. Appearing in society again after a period of mourning for her husband, she had now to grieve for her father and endure another six months in black crepe. She was too young and lovely to spend her life alone, but he couldn’t contemplate her marrying another man without a sharp stab of jealousy. He didn’t just find her desirable; what he felt for her was soul-deep.
After the group had finished their breakfast, a servant went to the stables with instructions for Harry’s curricle to be brought around to the front of the mansion.
