Page 50 of His Bluestocking Bride

“Can you imagine the speed you would have to move at?” Marcus responded, humoring her as he normally did instead of dismissing her fanciful thoughts. “Or if we could make the journey continuous, not stopping to even change horses. This puts me in mind of the steam boat we were reading of the other day.”

“Oh, the American improvements on Lord Dundas’s invention, yes.” Ellen sat forward with interest. “Though water is most certainly more easily traversed than land, it is a marvel he could travel 150 miles in but thirty-two hours. What an incredible ride that would be.”

“If only we could find a way to use steam travel over land, instead of horses.” Marcus pursed his lips in thought. “But the engines required for such a thing would need a constant source of fuel.”

They postulated for a long stretch of time how such things could be done, even speaking of the iron rails used by coal mining companies to move large quantities of their product with pulling horses.

Marcus made such discussions lively. He always listened to what she shared with him, whether it had a practical application in the moment or not, and often shared his own thoughts on the subject at hand.

They arrived in London exhausted, but in good spirits. The roads remained traversable, with it staying cold enough to keep the dirt paths from turning into mud. When the carriage stopped for the last time, before the Earl of Annesbury’s townhouse, Ellen breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m grateful we will not be making the journey in the opposite direction for some time.”

Marcus put a hand to his heart, widening his eyes comically. “Madam, you wound me. I thought you enjoyed my company, my completely undivided attention, these four days past.” He stepped from the carriage and held his gloved hand out for hers. “Was I not entertaining enough?”

Ellen, amused by his teasing, stepped down and quickly tucked her hand back in her muff. “I liked our conversations, of course, but it will be nice to sit upon a seat that does not move, bounce, or jostle about.”

He chuckled and nodded. “I will confess, I look forward to that as well. Come, let’s get inside quickly, and we can get to our rooms before Mother discovers we are here.”

Ellen giggled and hurried with him, up the steps and into the house. She felt happier and lighter than she had in many years. She was less worried about her time in London. The carriage ride with Marcus, as exhausting as the travel had been, made her grateful for the time spent with him.

They avoided the earl and his mother and were shown to adjoining rooms in the family wing. The house was large, by town standards, but not near the size of the more prestigious ducal homes they’d passed in the neighborhood. Bidding each other a quick farewell, Ellen and Marcus parted in the hallway.

Ellen entered her room and found Sarah already there, hands folded primly before her and eyes as wide as saucers. “Sarah, how was your journey?” she asked brightly.

“Oh, lovely, ma’am. We had a grand time in the carriage.” The servants left earlier that morning, from the last inn, in order to prepare the way for their employers. “And I’ve unpacked and put some things in the clothes press for dinner tonight. I asked ‘round to see if it warranted anything special.” She began to help Ellen out of her traveling costume. “There’s to be a few guests to welcome Mr. Calvert and yourself to town.”

That gave Ellen pause. “Oh? Any idea who?”

“Friends of the earl and a few ladies.” Sarah shrugged, quickly wrapping a dressing gown around her mistress’s shoulders. “If you’ll sit, I’ll take out your hair so you can relax a bit before dinner.”

“Thank you. A nap might be just the thing.” Ellen allowed her maid’s ministrations and listened with half an ear as Sarah told her all about the household, the staff, and her impression of the city she had never thought she would visit.

Sarah had finished tying a ribbon at the end of Ellen’s braid when a soft rap came from the door separating her bedroom from her husband’s. Sarah and Ellen both turned to the door and stared at it in silence for a long moment.

“Ought I to get it, ma’am?” Sarah asked, eyebrows raised at the door. “I’m not sure what propriety dictates.”

“Take these things to be cleaned, Sarah, if you will.” Ellen waived vaguely at the clothing she had cast off and stood, tightening the sash around her wrap. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” She walked to the adjoining door but waited until Sarah had gone before she leaned close. “Who is it?”

What a ridiculous thing to say. As if anyone would knock at that door other than her husband.

A little thrill shot through her at the thought.

“Might I have a word, Ellen?”

Ellen took a deep breath before opening the door a crack. How silly, for a wife to hesitate in opening a door to her husband.

“Yes, Marcus?” She tried to look more at ease than she felt.

He stood on the other side of the door, head cocked to one side as he peered in at her. He appeared half-dressed, without a coat or neckcloth, and lacking shoes. When she noticed his stocking feet, Ellen quickly pulled her gaze back up to his face, hoping her blush was not overly visible.

Marcus half-grinned at her. “I’ve been informed there is to be a dinner party tonight. I think your abigail is aware. But I wondered if you are up to attending, given we have been on the road for several days. It would be an easy thing for you to be ill or exhausted from travel.”

“Only me? Do you plan to attend, either way?” she asked, curious.

“Yes. It would appease Mother if one of us is at dinner.”

“Then I will attend as well. I think after a short nap I will be equal to the task.”

“Excellent.” He leaned his shoulder against the doorway, seeming in no hurry to end their conversation, for all it resembled border guards discussing the weather. “Is your room to your liking?”