The corner of Harry’s mouth curled up in a half smile. “No, regrettably,Erina, I am not. I live in hope that you will change your mind and allow me to drive you home.”
She surreptitiously tried to ease her stays beneath her breasts. “I wish you wouldn’t tease.”
His laugh seemed rather bitter. “I have to getsomeamusement for my pains, don’t you think?”
So, he considered this trip to be a pain. She firmed her lips, determined not to utter another word. But it proved impossible to stay silent when a squall moved overhead, and she moaned when they were hit with a deluge filling the air with the scents of damp fields, mud, and wet grass. The hood over the curricle did little to protect them.
“There’s an inn not far ahead. We’ll stop for luncheon,” Harry said encouragingly. “Hopefully, this rain shower will be brief.”
Fifteen minutes later, Harry drew into the forecourt of a small, ivy-covered inn, scattering chickens. He produced an umbrella from the back of the curricle. Helping her down, he instructed the ostler on the care of his horses. As they were slapped by heavy rain, they hurried across to the entrance, skirting puddles. In the foyer, she noticed Harry’s trousers were wet at the bottom and his boots muddy. He wouldn’t like that. He was always immaculately dressed.
She picked up her damp skirts as they entered the parlor, where a forlorn group of travelers hovered close to the fireplace while others were eating at the tables. The food smelled delicious.
The innkeeper’s wife showed them to a table by the window, where the heavy rain ran down the glass. “Such a nasty day for travel, isn’t it?” she said sympathetically. “A nice, hot drink to warm you?” She rattled off the dishes on offer.
Erina discovered she was hungry and ordered the chicken pie while Harry chose the beef and kidney.
While they waited, facing each other across the table, her guilty thoughts returned. She should not have forced Harry into this. It wasobvious he didn’t want to be here. She’d been so intent on saving Cathleen that she hadn’t considered how this reckless flight might affect him. How it might hurt his feelings that she didn’t want to marry him, and it could damage his reputation. She didn’t care very much about hers; being viewed as a correct lady didn’t concern her. But it did Harry, and he’d gone against his better instincts to keep her safe. She lowered her head and arranged the silverware on the white, linen cloth.
“You’re fiddling again,” Harry said. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I’m sorry.” She put down the cutlery and met his chocolate-brown eyes. Why hadn’t she noticed how handsome his eyes were, fringed with thick, dark lashes? A good face, especially when he smiled. A cleft in his strong chin, a well-shaped mouth. A straight nose. He must have been sought after by many debutantes’ mamas during the Season. And here he was wasting his time with her. She was sure he could have dissuaded his father from the engagement easily enough. Harry wasn’t cowardly. But he was caring. She wished he would smile at her.
“I’ve been horrible to you,” she said with a catch in her voice.
Harry widened his eyes and sat back in his chair. “Have you? When?”
She gave a half-laugh. “You know what I mean. Dragging you all this way. Placing you in this awful position.”
“Perfectly dreadful,” he agreed.
“Why have you indulged me?”
He drew in a breath and rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I admire your determination. You know your own mind, Erina. Unfortunately, so many women I meet don’t seem able to express themselves. I blame society for that.” He wiped the condensation off his tankard of ale with a finger. “You were offering me an adventure, so I took it.”
“You said you were averse to adventures.”
“Not if I can travel in relative comfort.”
This wasn’t the whole of it, she was sure. “You wanted to protect me.”
He smiled. “That too.”
“You are a gallant gentleman.”
He shook his head. “Don’t put labels on me. I may disappoint you. I’m only human, and I am a man, after all.”
She was about to ask him to explain this rather unsettling remark, but the maid appeared at their table with two steaming plates, and their attention was given to the welcome, hot food.
Chapter Ten
Thunderous clouds piledup on the horizon and seemed to chase Jack as he rode toward London. The rainstorm caught up with him before he arrived at the impoverished, overcrowded outer reaches of the metropolis. While he shrugged on his oilskin, two black-and-white cows watched him from their shelter beneath the boughs of a spreading oak. He rode on, determined to reach London before Colonel Bascombe left to go to his club.
At Bascombe’s house in Mayfair, the butler informed him that the colonel was expected home from the country the following day. In need of a bath and a change of clothes, Jack left his card and rode to the stables. After Arion was brushed and his feed dealt with, he walked to his rooms in Albany and called for hot water.
Devon, a valet who served two other gentlemen on Jack’s floor, laid out his clothes, and with a resigned shake of his head, carried away Jack’s boots while Jack bathed. He washed the dust out of his hair and then stood toweling himself while planning how best to manage Lord Caindale. Although he remained suspicious, he decided to take a sympathetic and respectful approach. Gentlemen such as Lord Caindale were born and bred to expect it.
The valet had laid out the dark-blue tailcoat, freshly starched white shirt, gray-and-white-patterned waistcoat, and gray trousers for him to wear. Once dressed, Jack stood before the mirror and tied the crisplystarched stock into a mathematical; the precision of the style appealed to him. With a brush of his hair, he was transformed fromJack of the highwaysto someone he considered respectable enough for house calls.
