“As a matter of fact,” Mr. Dalton said smoothly while Leonora opened her mouth with every intention of stopping this ridiculous conversation from progressing any further, “she’s my wife.”
What?
She had meant to ask that question out loud, but his outrageous proclamation had rendered her utterly dumb.
“In that case, I do beg your pardon,” Mr. Smith sputtered. “If you could just...just...forgive me.”
Mr. Dalton’s hand curled around Leonora’s, cocooning it in his warmth. “Don’t worry, Mr. Smith.” He leaned in closer to Leonora, who held herself ramrod straight for fear of doing something completely stupid, like actually liking the feel of his much larger body pressing firmly into hers. “I know my wife is a stunning beauty.” He leaned back and added so softly that Leonora was sure only she could hear him. “You’re not the first to think so, of that I can assure you.”
Completely bowled over by the flattering compliment since she had never really considered herself much to look at, Leonora stared at the opposite side of the carriage in bafflement. The old ladies there were now discussing grandchildren while the young girl continued to read. It wasn’t that Leonora thought herself dull, but she would have said she looked ordinary if someone had asked. Yet in the space of only half an hour, she’d apparently managed to stir the interest of two men, though one was clearly an absolute scoundrel.
“Are you not tired?” Mr. Dalton asked her.
“A bit,” she replied without even thinking. She turned to look at him, which proved a mistake, because the way he was looking at her...
Sucking in a breath, she averted her gaze and tugged on her hand. He released it without hesitation, and she instantly felt herself cool in response. Forcing herself to stay calm, she turned back toward him while pinning her gaze on his greatcoat collar. As long as she didn’t look up at his face, she might pretend he was every bit the man she intended to dislike.
“Why would you say that?” she whispered.
“Because you were being harassed.”
“I was not being any such thing.” She paused before adding, “Mr. Smith was merely being polite.”
Mr. Dalton snorted. “No. He was not.”
Obviously, but at least they were arguing now, and that felt better than whatever else had been happening between them since they’d met. It felt more manageable.
“Are you talking about me?” Mr. Smith asked.
“No!” Leonora and Mr. Dalton said in unison.
“I could have sworn I heard my name,” Mr. Smith said.
“You were mistaken,” Mr. Dalton assured him. “My wife and I are having a private conversation.”
Leonora glared at Mr. Dalton. “I am not...” He raised an eyebrow, and she reluctantly let the rest of her sentence die. Because she was stuck in a carriage with two men vying for her attention until she reached the inn where she planned on spending the night. Mr. Dalton, she believed, might be discouraged, but she had a feeling that Mr. Smith would not, which meant that making herself unavailable to him was the best course of action – one Mr. Dalton had swiftly provided.
“Fine,” she agreed, to which the annoying man smiled.
“You’ve made the right decision, I’ll wager.” He leaned his head back against the wall of the carriage, and without elaborating further, he closed his eyes.
Leonora glanced at Mr. Smith, whose interest was now on the scenery outside the window. Perhaps Mr. Dalton was right. It certainly seemed as though Mr. Smith would leave her alone from now on. But what Mr. Dalton had failed to elaborate on were his own intentions. Had he merely saved her out of gentlemanly politeness, or did he have designs on her himself? She would have to figure that out later. For now, the only thing she wanted was rest, so she settled herself against the squabs and closed her eyes once again.
#
THE FIRST THING LEONORAbecame aware of when she woke was the juxtaposition between the hard surface of the seat beneath her and the soft wool molded against the side of her face. Next came the sway, reminding her she was in a moving carriage travelling north. The surface she was leaning against rose and fell ever so gently, like a living thing. Something solid was wrapped around her, holding her steady. Leonora’s mind fought its way back to wakefulness in an effort to make sense of these curiosities. Sleep slipped into the background, bringing everything into sharper focus. She was at an angle, which had to mean...
Her eyes shot open.
“It’s so nice to see a young married couple showing affection for each other,” the old woman sitting directly opposite Leonora remarked.
Leonora blinked. “We are—”
“Very much in love,” Mr. Dalton murmured. He squeezed her side and she realized it was his arm she could feel at her back. He’d wound it around her and was holding her close – too close, considering they’d only just met.
Intent on escaping his embrace and the butterflies it stirred in the pit of her belly, Leonora shoved herself upright only to have him pull her closer. “Our...engagement was swift,” she told the woman tightly. “So much so it was over before I had time to fully adjust.” Turning slightly, she prepared to give Mr. Dalton a pointed look, but the flicker of amusement brightening his eyes tempted her to smile instead.
No.
