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“I am well aware of how you feel, Mr. Steele. Perhaps you ought to sleep on our journey there? You might feel better afterwards.”
“I am not tired,” he said with a sidelong glance. “I am worried.”
Weren’t they all? “You mustn’t be. All will be well.”
“You can promise no such thing.”
Well, that was certainly true. “But is it not better to be positive and seek the sunset through the rain?”
He stared at her, still frowning, though the severity of his stern brow had lessened to a degree. “I never should have told you such a thing.”
She smiled, the air instantly lightening around them. “I am sorry for coercing you into all of this. But I have something that may make up for it.”
She reached into her reticule and produced a small parcel, which she untied to reveal three cherry tartlets. She extended it to Mr. Steele with raised eyebrows and a smile. “They’re a bit crumpled,” she said apologetically. “But what say you now about our little journey? It has been made instantly better, has it not?”
He eyed the tartlets with hesitation, then he accepted the offering with a sigh. “I suppose,” he said gruffly, but his brown eyes shone brighter already.
“What about the two of you?” he asked after taking his first bite, motioning to the remaining tartlets.
“Jane has her own already,” Marianne replied with a motion to Jane’s reticule. Then she placed a hand over her stomach with tight lips. “I already devoured three on our walk from Daffley Park.”
His frown fully disappeared. “I should’ve known.”
She smiled as he chewed his second tartlet. She’d never really thought that a man eating food could be attractive. But then, Mr. Steele apparently made everything alluring—carving, swallowing, chewing… Breathing.
His eyes met hers, and she swiftly looked away. She needed to get ahold of her thoughts and keep her wits about her. She couldn’t afford any distractions today.
When Mr. Steele’s tartlets were gone, he carefully folded the brown wrapping to avoid spilling any of the crumbs left behind. “How did you come to find out about an assembly in Wells anyway?”
This was good. He was in far better a mood now. Though, she shouldn’t have been surprised. Pastries always made one’s day better.
“Jane’s friend is a lady’s maid for a woman who lives there,” she explained. “Isn’t that right, Jane?”
The maid ducked her head even more—which Marianne had not thought was possible—and nodded her head in silence.
Marianne would have to pay the girl more to make up for the trauma she was putting her through.
“You’re certain no one will recognize you if you attend?”
His eyes were wary, but he no longer looked upset. Thank heavens.
“Yes,” she stated firmly. “Anyone who would have attended the assembly will be at the ball in Ashwick. As I said before, I know no one in Wells. The assembly will certainly be large enough for me to blend in perfectly with the crowds, though small enough to not attract many outsiders.”
The entire way the plan had come about was so coincidental, Marianne believed it to be providential. When she’d overheard Jane and her sister discussing the assembly, everything had fallen into place. Marianne’s desperation had taken hold of the reins and brought them to where they were now—in a carriage, running away from Daffley Park.
Mr. Steele merely nodded, then he took to staring at the green fields they passed by.
The coach fell into silence once again. Unfortunately, with that silence, Marianne’s thoughts began to wander, and her conscience came knocking once more.
How could she have done this? Did she not care what repercussions could come? It was true, she had accounted for every possible thing that could go wrong. But then, there were no guarantees. Suppose she was discovered and her family disgraced? She and Beatrice would never have the chance to marry gentlemen, then. Their parents would be so disappointed, not to mention heartbroken.
The worst of it all was what she’d tried to ignore from the beginning. If she was discovered with Mr. Steele, what would become of him? She, of course, would vouch for his personal character, and she would go down fighting to the end to have him keep his work at Daffley. But...would Father really keep him on?
By the time they reached Wells more than an hour later, Marianne was fairly certain she was going to relieve the contents of her stomach. Never mind that they’d already made it to Wells and that she’d already risked so much to get there. She was finished. She’d put too many people’s livelihoods at risk, and she could not be selfish any longer.
They exited the coach, Marianne and Jane once more hiding within their cloaks as Mr. Steele thanked the coachman and guard then carried both portmanteaus himself. Before they made it two steps toward the inn, Marianne paused, wringing her hands together.
“Mr. Steele.”
