The carriage rocked from side to side as it began to climb the steep incline that would bring them to their destination. Around a sharp bend, the lights of the museum were just coming visible. Adam and Eloise had mere moments left alone together. Minutes at best. He should have been relieved. Instead, he felt strangely…disappointed.
“You’re saying that you are different from your family. From your sister.”
“Sisters,” she corrected. “There’s three of us. Lenora, then Bridget, then Annabel, then me. A brother, too, but James is…traveling abroad. And yes, I’m different from them. I’ve always been different, in any manner of ways. Do you have siblings?”
He thought of Lord Denbigh’s other children. Hislegitimatechildren. Hiswantedchildren.
“Of a sort,” he said shortly. “They live here, in England. I haven’t met them.”
And why the hell had he told her that? Despite the whispers that were spinning round, Adam hadn’t divulged any information of a personal nature to anyone with the exception of Argus, and that hardly counted, as the manservant’s silence was bought and paid for. But this,thishe’d given up willingly and for what cause? What did he have to gain with sharing pieces of himself with Eloise? What was the advantage of baring his secrets…and part of his soul?
“You can have a reunion!” she declared, bouncing lightly in her seat.
Taking note of the motion, Adam’s eyes crinkled ever-so-slightly in the corners even as a scowl claimed his mouth.
If there was one thing he’d observed about Eloise, it was that she rarely sat still. Whether she was tapping her foot, or waving her arms, or skipping along beside him, she was a veritable fountain of energy. Under normal circumstances, it would serve as a source of constant annoyance. But for some unexplained reason, he found her boundless enthusiasm to be… endearing.
“I have zero interest in a family reunion.”
Her head tilted quizzically. “Then why have you come to London?”
You, he almost said, but that made about as much sense as his lack of discipline in the foyer. Of course he hadn’t traveled across the pond for Eloise. He hadn’t even known that she’d existed. But now that he did…now that he did, it seemed impossible that his world had ever existed without her in it.
“I’ve come to London because–”
But before he could finish his sentence, the carriage stopped and the door opened, saving him from answering her question…or delving deeper into why he’d formed an attachment to her. An attachment that had to be severed with the ruthless precision of a butcher slicing off an unwanted shank of lamb.
After escorting her to the ground, he released her hand and placed his own behind his back. Save a pulsing muscle at the hinge of his jaw, his expression was purposefully blank. A skill he’d learned to employ after his first and only failed negotiation when he’d allowed his emotions to get the better of him and learned an invaluable lesson in the process.
Regardless of how badly you wanted something, you had to be willing to give it up. Nothing was more important than coming out on top, even if it meant walking away.
Especiallyif it meant walking away.
“I am here to find a wife, and you’re not her,” he said with brusque, brutal honesty. “As I cannot afford a distraction, which is all that you are, I think it best that we steer clear of each other in any circumstance that would place us in the same vicinity.”
While Adam was adept at concealing his feelings, it was clearly not a talent that Eloise had mastered as undisguised hurt flashed in her eyes.
“A distraction?” she repeated, shoving a springy tendril of hair behind her ear. The remainder of her curls were swept up and away from her temple in a cascade of red. Her gown was a swath of obsidian that clung to her shoulders and breasts before melting into a pool of layered satin tulle. While it wasn’t nearly as extravagant as some of the other dresses Adam had witnessed during his brief time in line, it didn’t need to be. With Eloise, the focus was always on her face and her glorious, untamed titian mane.
Silk on fire.
That was what it had felt like running through his fingers.
If he reached out his arm–
No, he told himself fiercely.Have some fucking self-control, St. Clair.
“You should go inside.” He took a purposeful step away, putting some much needed distance between them. “I’m sure your family is looking for you.”
“And I’m sure that you’re eager to start your search for your perfect wife.” Eloise blinked the hurt from her gaze and defiance shone in its place. “I already feel sorry for her, whoever she happens to be. No one in their right mind would ever want to be married to a bully like you.”
He bared his teeth. “Better a bully than a red-haired hellion.”
For an instant, she appeared as if she was going to say something else. But then with an indecipherable growl she marched past him, leaving a swirl of anger and the faintest hint of flowers in her wake.
7
Dragonslayer
