“Certainly. Once you give me your name.”
Leonora hesitated. She’d been trying to avoid this, to prevent the need for further conversation, to simply keep her own company and ignore the fact that the most attractive man she’d ever met was friends with the loathsome Mr. Becker. Which said everything she needed to know about Mr. Dalton’s character.
Still...to deny Mr. Dalton the courtesy of her name when he specifically requested it would be no less rude than Mr. Becker wishing her a wonderful holiday season after threatening her with debtor’s prison.
The horn sounded again and Leonora sighed in defeat. “It is Miss Compton,” she said.
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Mr. Dalton told her while allowing his gaze to linger on hers. The sun from earlier disappeared, darkening his eyes while his smile faded just enough to afford him with a roguish appearance. It occurred to Leonora then that he was studying her mouth, prompting her to involuntarily lick her lips, which in turn caused him to suck in a breath.
Fearing she might lose her footing even though she was standing perfectly still, Leonora reached for the side of the carriage, hoping to steady herself. Mr. Dalton offered his arm but Leonora shook her head. “Thank you, but I can manage.” The last thing she needed right now was to touch him. Good lord! The effect would probably cause the blood in her veins to ignite, and that would not be the least bit healthy.
“Are you sure?”
“Perfectly sure. Just...You go ahead. I’ll follow.”
He frowned. “I cannot do that.”
Oh. Right. Ladies first and such. She sighed. What a nuisance that was at the moment. A concept she became increasingly aware of when she passed Mr. Dalton and felt the heat of his gaze on her back.
Just ignore it.
This of course was easier said than done when she climbed inside the carriage and saw that the only two remaining spots were next to each other on the same bench. Smiling tightly in the hope of making the most of the fact that she would soon find herself sandwiched between another young man and Mr. Dalton, she greeted the other passengers – a pair of older women and a girl roughly fourteen years of age – and took her seat.
As expected, Mr. Dalton sat beside her, his long legs and broad shoulders shrinking the interior even though he appeared to make some effort to press up against his corner in a futile attempt to offer more space. Leonora tried not to think. Indeed, she did her best to make her mind go completely blank. She absolutely refused to consider the way the entire length of Mr. Dalton’s leg and thigh connected with hers, which naturally caused her brain to focus exclusively on that.
Closing her eyes briefly, she prayed for the strength to avoid succumbing to madness, and deliberately shifted. Which of course brought her right up against the young man to her left. He moved his arm slightly as if to allow her more room, then said, “One never knows who one might have to sit next to on these long journeys. I’m glad to finally have a pretty young woman like yourself beside me.” His hand dropped to the spot where her leg met his, turning slightly, so his fingers pressed firmly against her knee. “Name’s Smith. James Smith.”
“Pleased to meet you, I’m sure,” Leonora lied as she scooted back in the direction of Mr. Dalton. For reasons she could not explain, he seemed less threatening than Mr. Smith, whom she did not like at all. There was something oily about him, which made her want to remove herself from his vicinity as much as possible.
Mr. Dalton grunted as if surprised by her sudden closeness, and then the carriage moved forward with a jolt, jostling them all together as it rolled over cobblestones. Mr. Smith appeared to take advantage. He fell against her, and this time his hand landed right in her lap.
“I do beg your pardon,” he murmured while allowing his hand to slide slowly against her thigh. He retrieved it with a chuckle.
Leonora shuddered, then caught herself and straightened her spine. “Touch me again and—”
“It’s always like this in the beginning,” one of the older women across from Leonora said, interrupting her whispered attempt at a threat. “It gets better once we’re out of London and the roads are all made of dirt.” She turned to her companion, who remarked on a building they were passing, and the two began a curious comparison of architectural elements. Beside them, the young girl seemed perfectly happy to ignore everyone by burying her nose in the book she was reading.
Leonora wished she’d brought one herself, but Mr. Becker had distracted her during her final preparations for the trip, and she’d lost her focus. Which meant she could either watch the people opposite her, talk to the men beside her, or sleep. She closed her eyes. Everything was going to be fine. She would arrive in Sheffield and say goodbye to Mr. Dalton forever, visit her sister, and return to London with renewed determination and a plan to solve everything.
“You were saying?” Mr. Smith whispered close to her ear. “Something about touching each other.”
Leonora clenched her fists. Perhaps she ought to have hired a carriage after all. Travelling by stagecoach was certainly not turning out as she’d thought it would when she’d imagined herself enjoying the company of strangers.
“No,” she informed Mr. Smith. “What I was about to tell you is that I know of ways to make a man cry.”
“That’s no way to repay my attempt at being friendly.” He grinned. “I brought some bread and cheese along with me. Would you like some?”
“No, thank you.”All I desire is to be left alone.
“I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel uncomfortable. That wasn’t my intention. So perhaps you’ll allow me to buy you a meal later on instead? To make up for my poor manners?”
Mr. Dalton produced a low snort and leaned forward so he could look at Mr. Smith properly without Leonora blocking the view. Naturally, the effort caused his leg to shift against hers, which in turn stirred to life a whole series of hot little embers that pricked at her skin. It was most unsettling and had to be stopped or she’d never survive this journey.
“You are being rather forward,” Mr. Dalton told Mr. Smith. “Perhaps the lady would like to be left in peace.”
And now he was fighting her battles for her. Brilliant! Typical male arrogance.
Leonora turned, intent on having her own say in the matter, but then Mr. Smith moved and addressed Mr. Dalton. “Have you a claim on her, sir? Or are you merely intent on being obstructive?”
