Читать книгу Never Trust a Rebel - Sarah Mallory - Страница 10

Chapter Two

The next morning dawned bright and clear and Drew lost no time in making his arrangements. These went well and with the late-summer sun beating down upon him he began to think the task ahead was not quite so onerous. A few days on the road and once they reached London he could hand Miss Elyse Salforde over to Lord Whittlewood. Mrs Matthews had sent him a polite note, inviting him to join them for dinner and he had grinned as he read it. He doubted her niece was in favour of the idea. She had spent most of the previous evening glaring at him, and in truth he knew he had deserved it. He had ridden her hard and given no sign that he found her attractive. She had more than enough admirers and he was not going to add to their number.

Amongst the fashionable beauties of London she might not stand out quite so much, but in a provincial spa town like Scarborough she was undoubtedly a diamond, and far too conscious of her own worth. It would do Miss Salforde no harm at all to be brought down to earth a little and if she tried her tricks upon him then he would do it.

Having finished his business he made his way to the beach to watch the horse racing. He spent a pleasant couple of hours discussing horseflesh with other observers, placing wagers, losing a little money, winning even more before quitting the sands. It was still early and there was time to spare before he needed to change for his dinner engagement, so he decided to stroll through the town. The streets were busy and it was not long before a familiar figure caught his eye.

Miss Salforde was coming towards him in the company of an elderly lady and gentleman. She wore a dark grey cloak over her black gown and it looked out of place against the more colourful attire of her companions. As they approached he recognised the couple as Mr and Mrs Oliver, guests at Mrs Matthews’s party last night. He was relieved to see that Elyse was not escorted by any of her young swains. It seemed the chit had some proper feeling, after all.

It soon became apparent that the Olivers had recognised him. When they came up they stopped to acknowledge his bow and exchange courtesies. Only Elyse looked less than pleased to see him, standing back from her friends and looking beyond him with every appearance of haughty indifference.

‘We are making our daily visit to the spa,’ offered the old gentleman, the improbably brown hair of his bagwig making a stark contrast to the white whiskers and eyebrows that adorned his aged face. ‘But first we are escorting Miss Salforde to the circulating library and home again.’

Elyse looked a little self-conscious when she realised she was the centre of attention, lifting her hands to show him the books she was carrying.

‘I must needs return them before I leave town.’

‘We called upon Mrs Matthews to thank her for her hospitality last evening and she told us the exciting news,’ explained Mrs Oliver. ‘You are all off to London! I am sure the ladies must be very pleased they have you to escort them, Mr Bastion. One can hire a courier, I know, but there is nothing so comforting as having a gentleman in attendance.’

Drew bowed.

‘Indeed, ma’am. But—is the library not out of your way?’

‘Oh, nothing to speak of,’ replied Mr Oliver gallantly. ‘We will make a little detour, of course, but we are happy to do so, since Mrs Matthews would have had to send her maid, and she has told us how much there is do if everything is to be packed up in time. We do not begrudge a little extra walking, do we my dear?’

His wife concurred readily, but Drew’s eyes dwelled thoughtfully upon the way the old gentleman leaned upon his stick.

‘If you wish I would happily accompany Miss Salforde to the library, and save you the extra journey.’ He saw Elyse’s start of surprise, her look of alarm.

‘Oh, but I could not possibly impose upon you,’ she began, flustered.

He gave a wide smile that encompassed all three of them, saying easily, ‘It is no imposition. I have nothing to do until dinnertime and would enjoy the diversion.’

‘Well, that is exceeding kind of you, my boy,’ declared Mr Oliver, beaming. ‘And nothing could be better, Miss Salforde, for there can be no harm in leaving you in the company of your guardian, what?’ He gave a wheezy chuckle. ‘And I’ve no doubt you will much prefer to be accompanied by this handsome young fellow, eh?’

‘No, indeed, Mr Oliver, I am more than happy to remain with you and Mrs Oliver.’

Elyse’s response was heartfelt, Drew was sure, but her elderly friends thought she was merely sparing their feelings. They laughed aside her protests and said goodbye, strolling away and leaving Elyse standing beside Drew. She was regarding him solemnly, a discontented frown marring her perfect features. His lips twitched.

‘I have no doubt they are very kind,’ he said smiling, ‘But to escort you to the circulating library and back again would have added a good mile or so to their perambulations.’ He held out his arm. ‘Shall we walk on?’

Elyse knew she had no choice. The streets were busy and to refuse his escort and walk unaccompanied through the town where she was so well known would expose her to censure, and there was even the risk of being accosted. Also, she thought indignantly, she doubted he would let her walk away from him. How she wished now that she had declined Mr and Mrs Oliver’s kindly offer and waited for Hoyle to come with her—or she could even have sent a footman on the errand.

Curbing such futile regrets she assumed her chilliest demeanour and placed the very tips of her fingers on his sleeve as they set off through the busy streets. She was aware of the attention they were attracting. She acknowledged politely the sly smiles and nods of her many acquaintances but ignored their knowing looks. She noted too the admiring glances that were cast at her escort. His height immediately drew the eye, and there was no denying that his figure was good. It showed to advantage in his russet coat of superfine wool with its silver-gilt buttons. There was no creasing or straining of the material across his broad shoulders or where it tapered gently to his waist before flaring out, and even then a vent in the heavy folds allowed his sword to pass through without marring the elegant lines. In normal circumstances she would have been very pleased to be seen on the arm of such a handsome gentleman, but the circumstances were far from normal and she could not forget his odious behaviour towards her the previous evening. He interrupted her reverie by remarking with a laugh in his voice,

‘It behoves us to have some conversation, Miss Salforde.’

‘I did not realise I was obliged to entertain you.’

‘To escort such a beautiful lady is entertainment enough.’

She could not resist a glance at him as she said drily, ‘Trying to turn me up sweet, Mr Bastion?’

‘Could I do so?’

The glint in his eyes challenged her and she fought down the impulse to smile back at him. Instead she looked away and said in an indifferent tone, ‘You have certainly charmed my aunt.’

‘I have no doubt she is relieved to have someone share the responsibility for your guardianship. You must be a sad trial to her.’

‘That is not it at all,’ she retorted, nettled. ‘I am not the least trouble, I assure you. In fact I am of great use to her.’

‘Oh?’

‘I practically run the household.’

‘You rule the roost.’

‘No, not at all, I—’ She bit her lip. ‘You are making a May-game of me, sir.’

He merely laughed at that, and as they had arrived at the circulating library she said no more.

Mr Frear, the library’s elderly owner was behind the counter and immediately came forward, his friendly greeting balm to Elyse’s wounded pride. She handed back her books and explained that she would not be requiring more.

‘Ah yes, I have heard that you are leaving us,’ he declared. ‘Your going will be a sad loss to the town, Miss Salforde.’

‘By heaven, word travels quickly.’

‘It does indeed, sir, when it concerns Scarborough’s brightest star,’ replied Mr Frear gallantly.

Elyse glanced up at the gentleman beside her. That should show him she was held in some esteem here. And he could not accuse her of flirting with old Mr Frear.

* * *

Her errand complete and spirits raised somewhat by her reception at the circulating library, Elyse and her companion set off back towards Aunt Matthews’s house in Northfield Square. Her escort behaved with such civil courtesy that she was emboldened to try once more to delay their departure.

‘Is it imperative that we quit Scarborough tomorrow, Mr Bastion? Surely an extra day would make no odds.’

‘We may need that extra day if the weather should turn. We are a long way from London, Miss Salforde. I would have thought you impatient to see Mr Reverson again.’

‘I am, of course.’

She could not avoid the heartbeat’s hesitation before making her reply. Marriage to William had been her future for so long that she had come to take it for granted, but the knowledge that she would soon be making her home with William’s family was a little frightening. After all, they were almost strangers, even William. She had not forgotten the pleasure of dancing with him, the elation she had felt at his shy proposal, the thrill of the chaste kisses they had exchanged in secret, but they had been together for such a short time.

William had left Scarborough soon after they had become engaged. Elyse had been heartbroken for a week, but then she had settled down to life as one of the belles of the town, happy in the knowledge that she need not join the other young ladies in their scramble to make a suitable alliance. It amused her each Season to watch them pursuing their quarry at the routs and assemblies but she envied none of them their husbands. Apart from headstrong Jenny Malden who had eloped with an actor and been disowned by her family, they had all married sensibly and although they all appeared to be happy enough, not one of them had married for love, which is what she would be doing, as well as marrying into one of the highest families in the land. How could she not be proud of her achievement?

She said, more confidently, ‘I cannot wait to be with William again. I received a letter from him only recently begging me to come with all speed.’

‘Is he a regular correspondent?’

‘He writes to me when he can. He is very busy.’

She would not tell him that it was the first letter she had received in months.

‘But you have not seen him for three years.’ He paused. ‘A person can change a great deal in that time.’

‘Not William.’

‘And what of you? Are you the same young lady you were when Reverson proposed?’

‘Of course.’

He stopped and turned to face her. ‘Are you sure of that?’

Elyse frowned, angered that he should question her in this manner. Of course she had not changed. But when she looked up to tell him so the words died on her lips. He was looking down at her with a glinting smile that sent all thoughts of William out of her head. When their eyes locked she felt a tremor of something she did not understand run through her body. Heat pooled deep inside and her heart began to thud most uncomfortably in her chest. She felt suddenly breathless and wanted to look away from those disturbing blue eyes. They seemed to see into her very soul and read her most secret thoughts. Not only that, they encouraged new and uncomfortable ideas to form.

She dragged her eyes away but even then they only moved to his mouth and she found herself wondering what it would be like to be kissed by him. She did not doubt that he was very experienced and the thought made the heat deep in her belly curl even deeper. A little thrill of anticipation trembled through her, followed quickly by the knowledge that even thinking of such things was a betrayal of William. Heavens, how could she be so disloyal? In three years she had never before felt like this. She was shocked, and frightened.

Elyse pulled her hand from his arm and turned away, unnerved by his presence and even more so by her reaction. Northfield Square was in sight and she could see her aunt’s house on the far side. She hurried towards it, not caring whether he accompanied her. In fact she would very much prefer it if he did not. She soon realised he was keeping pace with her but she refused to look at him and did not stop until she had reached the door of her aunt’s house. Only then did she turn and force herself to confront him. There was no laughter in his eyes now when they regarded her, no mischievous glint, only a frowning look. She wondered if she had disappointed him and realised how much she did not want that to be the case.

‘Of—of course I have changed,’ she said defiantly. ‘I am older and—and a woman. I am ready now for marriage.’

‘You are certainly that, Miss Salforde,’ he retorted. ‘And I pity your husband.’

She stared at him, outraged that he should say such a thing, but without another word he swept off his hat, made her an elegant bow and strode away.

* * *

By the time Drew reached his lodgings his sudden flash of ill humour had abated. It was not the chit’s fault that he found her so damned desirable. He had thought he had himself well under control. Granted he had teased her a little, just for the pleasure of it, but her forthcoming marriage to Reverson was no matter for levity. It was his responsibility as her guardian to look out for her. To warn her that people could change a great deal in three years.

He had tried to keep his tone light, but when she had fixed those huge brown eyes upon him he had felt again the stirring of desire, the urge to take her in his arms and make her forget all about William Reverson. He had tried to persuade himself that Harry’s daughter was still a child but it was clear that she was not, and the more he saw of her the more his body told him she was every inch a woman, and a very desirable one. Gaining the seclusion of his room he tossed aside his hat and went over to the washstand. He poured some water into the basin and bathed his face, hoping the shock of it would restore his intellect. His anger was not aimed at Elyse, but at her ability to disconcert him and send all sensible thoughts flying from his head.

Drew was well aware that such a weakness could spell disaster for a man who lived by his wits, but after a period of cool reflection he could put the whole incident into perspective. She was a pretty woman, he was a red-blooded male. Sparks were bound to fly when they were together. It was up to him to make sure it did not get out of hand.

* * *

By the time Drew made his way back towards Northfield Square later that day his good humour had returned and he found he was looking forward to dinner with Mrs Matthews and her niece. He had no doubt Elyse would still be at odds with him and who could blame her, when he had treated her so roughly? Perhaps he should not have questioned her about her betrothal to Reverson, but he had to be sure she was happy about it. He himself was uneasy about this whole business. Harry had not explained to his daughter why Lord Whittlewood had agreed to so unequal a match and Drew was convinced the viscount would not want the truth known.

Elyse and Reverson might have thought themselves in love during that brief, heady Season three years ago, but if they had been apart since then he suspected there could be little affection left, and although he thought Elyse a little spoiled he did not wish her to be hurt. He would have to be careful in his dealings with her. It had almost been his undoing when he had teased her, for he had been enjoying himself and relaxed his guard. Then she had turned those soft brown eyes to his and he had suffered a sudden rush of desire that had almost knocked him off his feet. It had driven all teasing thoughts from his head and he had wanted nothing more than to drag her into his arms.

Even worse, he suspected she had felt it too because she had pulled away from him and rushed off in a panic. But there was no harm done, he had been taken unawares, that was all. It would not happen again. And Elyse was obviously appalled by the attraction that had crackled between them, sharp as any electrical storm. Perhaps that little fright would do her good. She might now see the wisdom of keeping all men at a proper distance. He grinned, thinking again of the way she had ripped up at him. She undoubtedly had spirit and she was not unintelligent. He would do what he could to lay those ruffled feathers this evening and if he succeeded he thought she would prove entertaining company.

He arrived at Northfield Square at the appointed hour and was shown into an empty drawing room by a servant who was clearly distracted. However, Drew did not have long to wait before he discovered the cause. Miss Salforde came in and stood with her back to the door. She had not changed for dinner and was still dressed in her plain morning gown of black crepe, adorned only with a snowy apron. The simplicity of the homely garb only highlighted the delightful curves of her figure and he found himself once again indulging in highly inappropriate thoughts. However, when his eyes moved to her face he sobered immediately and his attention jumped back to the present, for her dark eyes were troubled.

‘Sir, you must cancel your arrangements,’ she said without preamble, clasping her hands at her breast. ‘We cannot go to London tomorrow.’

‘Is something amiss, Miss Salforde?’ His brows snapped together. There was no sign of the confident, teasing miss he had seen last night, nor the haughty ice maiden of this afternoon. Instead she was very close to tears. In two strides he was at her side, taking her arm and gently drawing her to one of the sofas. Her silent compliance only confirmed to him how upset she was.

‘Now,’ he said when they were sitting down together. ‘Tell me what has occurred.’

‘M-My aunt has broken her arm. She has been hurrying hither and thither all day preparing for the journey and she tripped and fell on the stairs. If she had not been in such haste to make sure we did not keep you waiting—’

She broke off, hunting for her handkerchief. Drew gave her his own.

‘Ah,’ he murmured. ‘So it is my fault. I should have known.’

She blew her nose and brushed away a rogue tear that had escaped on to her cheek.

‘No, of course it was not your fault.’

‘Very handsomely said, Miss Salforde.’

She gave a watery chuckle.

‘Well, you cannot be blamed for the accident. Aunt should not have been carrying those bandboxes down from the attic, but Hoyle was busy packing the trunks and—’

‘Hoyle?’

‘Our maid. She is my aunt’s dresser, really, but she has always looked after me, too. I have never required a maid of my own but with so much to be done in such a short time...’

‘And where is your aunt now?’

‘In her room. The doctor is with her, setting the bone. He says it is a simple break, but she is very shaken up and he will not hear of her leaving her bed for at least a se’ennight.’ She sighed. ‘So you see, Mr Bastion, we must cancel our journey to London.’

Drew’s mind was racing. Mrs Matthews might be able to leave her room in a week but he doubted she would be fit to travel for several more—certainly not before Michaelmas. And those ominous words in Lord Whittlewood’s letter were imprinted in his mind—if Miss Salforde was not delivered to him by Michaelmas then he would consider himself to have fulfilled his part of the contract, and the marriage would not go ahead.

‘No, we will have to go on and your aunt will follow as soon as she is able.’

He found himself subjected to a disconcertingly direct gaze from those brown eyes.

‘But that would be most irregular. I will not travel without my aunt.’

‘I’m afraid you must. Lord Whittlewood is expecting you.’

‘Then I shall write to him and explain, if you will not do so.’

‘If I thought it worthwhile I would do so, willingly, but I do not think the viscount would consider your aunt’s broken arm sufficient excuse to suspend his plans.’ He could almost see the questions forming in her head and added quietly, ‘Lord Whittlewood’s instructions were very clear.’

‘Do you mean, if I do not comply, there may be no wedding?’

‘That is a distinct possibility, Miss Salforde.’

* * *

Elyse sat back. His words were like cold water, waking her from the nightmare of the past few hours into an even worse predicament. If she delayed, then she might lose William for ever. She had been seventeen when they had met, and William only a little older. There was no doubt that she had been dazzled to be singled out for attention by the son of a viscount. He was so handsome, too, everyone had said so. Was it any wonder that she had tumbled into love with him? Of course since then there had only been an occasional exchange of letters, but Elyse held his memory in her heart and longed for the day when he would claim her as his bride. Now the gentleman at her side was telling her that if she delayed that might never happen. She drew a deep, resolute breath.

‘Then I shall have to go to William alone.’

A faint, glinting smile warmed his piercing blue eyes.

‘Not quite alone, Miss Salforde. I shall be with you.’

Elyse found his words reassuring and that surprised her. Their encounters so far had been tempestuous, and occasionally disturbing, yet here she was preparing to travel to London and taking comfort from the fact that he would be with her. However, she had no time to consider such matters, especially since Aston was even now coming in to ask her what she wished to do about dinner.

‘I do not know,’ she said distractedly, putting one hand to her temple. ‘I am not hungry.’

‘Is it ready to be served?’ Mr Bastion interjected, addressing the butler directly.

Aston bowed. ‘Why yes, sir. It only needs a word and it can be on the table in a trice.’

‘Then we should eat.’

Elyse bridled. At this juncture any man of sensibility would withdraw and leave the family in peace.

‘I think not,’ she contradicted him. ‘I should go to Aunt Matthews.’

‘The mistress is sleeping, miss,’ said the butler, trying to be helpful. ‘Hoyle says Dr Carstairs gave her some laudanum before he left and doesn’t expect her to wake up for a couple of hours yet.’

There was no hint of triumph in the smile her guest bestowed upon her, but Elyse still ground her teeth when he said with maddening calm,

‘Then we have plenty of time to dine and you can sit with your aunt afterwards.’

‘I am not hungry.’

Elyse bit her lip. She sounded like a sulky child. What was it about Andrew Bastion that brought out the worst in her? She tried to be thankful that he appeared not to notice her bad manners.

He replied in soothing tones, ‘Perhaps not, but it will do your aunt no good if you are fainting off from want of food.’ He rose and pulled her to her feet, then he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and patted it in an avuncular fashion.

‘Aye, that’s the ticket,’ chuckled Aston, taking advantage of his position as an old family retainer. ‘I’m sure you’ll feel more the thing with some food inside you, miss, and I’ll tell Hoyle to come and fetch you just as soon as the mistress wakes up.’

There was nothing to be done but to comply. Elyse had to admit that by the time she had partaken of several of the dishes displayed and enjoyed a glass of wine she was feeling much calmer. Her guest behaved impeccably during the meal, conversing on light, unexceptional topics that neither angered nor embarrassed her and she found herself relaxing. Her mind was occupied with the plight of poor Aunt Matthews and she could think of little else.

* * *

They had finished their meal when Hoyle came in to say that Mrs Matthews was awake and asking for her niece. Elyse went off immediately, following Hoyle through corridors littered with trunks and cases to her aunt’s bedchamber. Aunt Matthews was propped up in the bed, one arm encased in plaster and resting on a mound of pillows. She was looking pale but composed in a nightgown and cap of frothy pink lace and when Elyse came in she held out her good hand, ignoring the maid who was fussing around her.

‘Oh, my dear, what a silly thing for me to do, I am so sorry.’

‘No, no, Aunt, you must not blame yourself. I am only relieved it is nothing worse. Dr Carstairs told me it would be a simple matter to set the arm and then you will be up and about again in no time.’

‘Yes, but not by tomorrow morning. I will not be able to get up for days.’

Disregarding Hoyle’s tut of disapproval, Elyse perched herself on the edge of the bed and took the proffered hand. ‘You are not to worry about that. You can follow on as soon as you are well enough to travel.’

‘You plan to go without me?’

‘I must. Mr Bastion thinks the viscount would insist upon it.’

‘Well, there is no doubt that these great men are used to having their own way,’ agreed Aunt Matthews, sighing. ‘And you have been waiting so long I am sure you must be eager to see your beau again.’

‘I am of course.’ Elyse replied quickly, although now the moment was approaching she felt more than a little apprehensive. ‘But I would rather wait until you could come with me, Aunt.’

A knock made her turn and she saw Andrew Bastion standing in the doorway.

‘I beg you will forgive the intrusion, ma’am?’

‘Yes, yes, come in, sir. Do not stand on ceremony.’ Mrs Matthews called to him, ignoring another disapproving sniff from Hoyle, who was tidying the pots and jars on the dressing table. ‘We must decide what we are to do about getting Elyse to London.’

‘My thoughts exactly, ma’am. I have hired a post-chaise to be here at nine o’clock tomorrow morning.’

‘Could we not delay it a little?’ said Elyse. ‘I would like to know my aunt is improving before I leave Scarborough.’

‘Oh, I shall go on well enough, my love, you need not worry over me,’ said Aunt Matthews. ‘And the roads being as they are you will want to have as much time as possible for your journey.’

This was very much what Andrew Bastion had told her, but it was no more palatable to hear it from her aunt.

‘I am sure another week would not hurt.’ Elyse fixed her eyes upon Mr Bastion. He met their challenge but would not capitulate and she felt her temper rising. ‘Mr Reverson’s letters tell me he is as eager as I am for us to be together, but if I explain everything I am sure he would understand if my arrival is a little delayed.’

‘But his father would not.’

‘Mr Bastion is right, my love. You must not give them any reason to reject you.’

‘You think they would cry off, over such a little thing? But William and I love each other.’ She reached into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled paper. ‘Why, in his last letter to me he says he cannot wait for us to be united.’

‘That may be so, but there is no doubt that while this is a brilliant match for you the viscount might have looked higher for a bride for his younger son.’ Her aunt’s gaze had become disconcertingly shrewd. ‘If you want him, love, you must take him now, or it may be too late.’ She squeezed Elyse’s fingers, saying urgently, ‘This is a wonderful opportunity for you, my love. You must grasp it with both hands.’

‘I will, Aunt. I promise.’

‘Good girl.’ Aunt Matthews’s eyes were suspiciously bright and she blinked a little before turning her attention to the gentleman standing at the end of the bed. ‘My brother obviously thought a great deal of you, sir, to entrust you with the care of his only child.’

He bowed. ‘I shall endeavour not to disappoint him, ma’am.’

‘Good. Now, Elyse will be ready to go with you tomorrow morning. And Hoyle shall accompany her.’

There was a clatter as the maid dropped one of the hairbrushes.

‘That I won’t, ma’am. My place is here, with you.’

Aunt Matthews gave an exasperated sigh.

‘Pray do not be tiresome, Hoyle. There is no one else to go with her.’

‘That’s as maybe, but I’ve been your maid for nigh on thirty years and I ain’t about to leave you now, not when you needs me.’

‘You’ll do as you’re told, Hoyle,’ snapped her mistress. ‘Or you can pack your bags and leave this minute.’

The maid did not look unduly worried by this threat. Drawing herself up she said with dignity, ‘That’s for you to decide, ma’am, but I ain’t going.’

She stumped to the door, closing it behind her with a bang.

‘Well,’ Mrs Matthews stared after her. ‘Of all the...she knows I won’t turn her off, of course, but all the same.’

Elyse gave a little shrug. ‘Hoyle has always been a little jealous of me. But even if she were not, you really cannot expect her to leave you now, Aunt, when you are confined to bed.’

‘We must find some female to accompany you,’ stated Mr Bastion.

Elyse was already smarting from Hoyle’s rejection, and the note of impatience in the gentleman’s voice only added to her hurt.

‘Every other maid in the house would be more of a hindrance than a help,’ declared Mrs Matthews frankly. ‘They would most likely fall into hysterics if I suggested they travel more than a mile out of Scarborough.’

He exhaled sharply. ‘Then I shall have to hire someone. Though who I might find by nine o’clock tomorrow morning—’

‘You need not trouble yourself on my account,’ said Elyse, holding herself very stiff.

‘You cannot travel alone,’ he retorted.

‘You are my guardian, are you not? There can be no impropriety in our travelling together.’

She glared at him. He was only trying to help, but suddenly the excitement of her forthcoming marriage was gone, replaced by a feeling that she was merely an inconvenience. It was not a pleasant thought. The gentleman regarded her in silence for a moment and when he spoke his tone was decisive.

‘Very well. If there is someone from the household that you can persuade to go with you it would be an advantage, but as you say, it is not necessary. We can always arrange for a maid to attend you at the inns.’ He turned to Aunt Matthews. ‘I wish you a speedy recovery, ma’am.’ His gaze flickered to Elyse and the indifference she saw in his eyes only added to her dismay. ‘I shall call for you at nine o’clock sharp, Miss Salforde. Be sure you do not keep me waiting.’

* * *

Once more Drew walked away from Mrs Matthews’ house with his mind in turmoil. He had been in England for less than a week and already what should have been a simple task of escorting a young lady to London was turning into a nightmare. First of all there was Lord Whittlewood’s ultimatum, making it necessary to reach London with all speed; and now her aunt, the most proper person to act as a chaperon, could no longer travel with them. Such a trifle would not have worried him unduly, if it was not for the fact that his ward was no schoolroom miss but a very desirable young woman.

He recalled that immediate tug of attraction he had experienced the first time he had seen Elyse in her aunt’s drawing room. In their subsequent meetings, even when she was at her most tiresome, it had only grown more powerful. Whenever their eyes locked he could feel the energy crackling between them, a pleasurable anticipation of what it would be like to pull her into his arms and kiss her, to unlock the passion he felt sure she possessed.

Impossible, of course. Not only was she a gently reared young lady and the future wife of another man, she was also his ward, the daughter of his friend, and he was sworn to protect her. And if she was not his responsibility, and not another man’s fiancée, what then? Would he seduce her? Of course not. Elyse Salforde was a gently reared young lady; he could not take her for his mistress. Yet what else had he to offer her? He was a rogue, a traitor. He had decided years ago that he could not ask any woman to share that burden.

He let his breath go with a hiss. This was not about his misfortunes. He must concentrate upon Elyse. She might be damned attractive but he would cope with that. He was her guardian, he would employ a maid at each inn to share her room at night and preserve her reputation. If she was happy to make the journey to London without a chaperon of any sort then so be it. He was damned if he would worry about it.

Yet worry he did. He had agreed to Harry’s dying wish to take care of his daughter, and that would not include ravishing her before she could be delivered to her fiancé.

* * *

The next day dawned clear and bright, only a slight mist on the sea indicating that it was no longer high summer. Elyse donned her travelling dress, a riding habit of olive-green twill with a collar of buff velvet and small gilt buttons. She had added black ruffles at her neck and cuffs and a black lace veil was suspended from the rim of her bonnet. The veil was folded back at present but when it was pulled down it completely obscured her features. It was all very sober and no one, not even the infuriating Mr Andrew Bastion, could doubt she was in mourning.

Aston came to tell her that the carriage was at the door and once she had directed him to have her baggage taken out she went off to take leave of her aunt.

‘I wish we could wait until you could come with us,’ she said as she gave Mrs Matthews a final hug, taking good care to avoid her injured arm. ‘I do not know how I shall go on without you.’

‘You will do very well, my love, if you remember your manners.’

Elyse pulled a face. ‘I am sure that will not be difficult when I am with Lord Whittlewood, but I am not looking forward to the journey with that man.’

‘You mean Mr Bastion?’ Aunt Matthews patted her cheek. ‘Your father wrote in his final letter that he would trust Drew Bastion with his life. I have no doubt he will look after you, for Harry’s sake. But ...’

She paused, the restless fingers of her free hand pleating and re-pleating the edge of the sheet until Elyse felt compelled to prompt her.

‘Yes, Aunt?’

‘I beg you will be careful when you are with Mr Bastion, Elyse. He is not a man to be crossed. There is steel behind his charm.’

Elyse’s solemn mood was routed by her aunt’s last words. Her eyes twinkled and she gave a merry laugh.

‘Charm? I have not seen any charm, Aunt. He is rude and overbearing.’

‘Well, tread warily my love.’

‘I will, I promise.’ She leaned over the bed to give her aunt another kiss on the cheek. ‘But what can he do, after all? He is only a man.’

With a cheery wave she sailed out of the room and her aunt listened to her dainty boots tapping down the stone stairs. She shook her head.

‘Yes, he is a man, Elyse,’ she murmured. ‘And that is what worries me.’

* * *

Elyse was impressed with the elegant equipage at the door. It may only have been a hired post-chaise but it was freshly painted and had four spirited horses harnessed to it, under the care of two smart postilions. Mr Bastion was waiting to hand her in, his hat tucked under one arm. She noted his appearance with approval, the exquisitely tailored riding coat in dark-blue wool, the pale buckskins and shiny top-boots that covered his legs. They all fitted to perfection. The first time she had seen him he had appeared the perfect society gentleman, at home in any drawing room. Now he was dressed for travel, ready for action and adventure.

It flashed through her mind that a young lady might easily lose her heart to such a man and Elyse was relieved to think that her own heart was already engaged. It belonged to William and she was therefore in no danger. Yet she was troubled by a niggling thought that perhaps she was not being completely honest with herself.

Those disturbingly blue eyes glinted down at her and she wondered again if he was able to read her thoughts. She looked away and moved to the carriage, silently putting her hand into his as she prepared to climb in. Immediately she was aware of the strength in his lean fingers. Her mouth went dry. Neither of them had yet put on their gloves and Elyse realised that this was a mistake, because a bolt of excitement shot through her when skin touched skin. Her heart leapt into her mouth and then settled high in her chest, where it beat a rapid and irregular tattoo that disrupted her breathing. It reminded her of the thrill of receiving admiring glances, or allowing a gentleman to kiss her fingers. Only ten times more exciting.

And far more dangerous. Elyse realised that this was beyond anything she had experienced before. She was no fool, all her life she had been pampered and cossetted. She knew she had been protected from the harsher realities of life. Mr Scorton’s attempts to kiss her should have warned her that the power she had so far enjoyed over the gentlemen of her acquaintance might not always be under her control. It was also daunting to know that she was just as vulnerable; she could not rely upon her own body to behave itself, as proven by the fact that she had to make a conscious effort before her hand would release those long, lean, masculine fingers.

Elyse sat down quickly, aware that Andrew Bastion was watching her but determined not to meet his eyes, lest he should see the consternation in her own. He jumped in after her, casting his hat upon the seat between them. Almost before the door had closed the chaise set off. Elyse had been so preoccupied she had not settled herself comfortably. Her skirts were tangled and without thinking she stood up to shake them out. At the same time the chaise lurched as it swung around the corner and out of the square. She lost her balance and collapsed back, directly into the lap of her companion.

Drew reacted instinctively and caught her in his arms, laughing. She was very light, a deliciously scented, complicated bundle of serviceable twill and frothy lace, but beneath it was the tantalising outline of her body, hinting at luscious curves beneath those layers of cloth. For a moment she remained gazing up at him, her shock quickly replaced by a twinkling look as if she, too, realised the absurdity of the situation.

‘Well, this is an unexpected pleasure.’

Why the deuce did you say that?

The rakish response had been automatic and Drew cursed himself as the glow in her eyes fled, replaced by horror and alarm.

‘Oh, I do beg your pardon.’ Her voice was a little breathless as she struggled in his arms.

Quelling the desire to hold her even tighter, Drew helped her on to the seat.

‘Pray do not make yourself uneasy,’ he said, leaning down to recover his hat, which had been knocked on to the carriage floor. ‘I am quite aware that you did not fall upon me intentionally.’

He grinned at her and was pleased when she responded with a wary smile.

‘Thank you.’ She shifted her position to look out of the window. ‘I was taken unawares by the speed of the carriage. Shall we travel like this all the way to London?’

‘I have instructed the postilions to keep up a good pace, but it will be dictated by the state of the roads. The highways leading from Scarborough are in reasonable repair and as long as the weather remains dry we will make good time. I hope we need spend no more than three nights on the road. However, if it rains the track could turn into a quagmire and that could slow us down considerably. It might even take longer than a week to reach London.’

‘Oh, good heavens,’ she said, without turning around. ‘I do hope that is not the case.’

‘So too do I,’ muttered Drew, regarding the delectable view she was presenting. She had her back to him, but her close-fitting jacket hugged her body, tapering in at her waist before flaring out again over her hips and the soft buttocks that moments earlier had been resting in his lap.

Drew settled himself into the corner of the carriage and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the way his blood was stirred at the sight of her. Even three days of this would tax his self-control to the limit.

* * *

They travelled long and fast, stopping only to change horses and swallow a mouthful of food and coffee before setting off again and at the end of the first day Elyse was so bone-weary she ate her dinner and retired, making no demur when her escort ordered a truckle bed to be made up in her room for a serving maid. The second day was better, she was anticipating the punishing pace and her youthful resilience made the journey much more enjoyable.

She gazed at the unfamiliar landscape flying by, trying to take in as much as possible. Her companion spent most of his time lounging in the far corner, his hat pulled low over his eyes. If he was tired then she had no wish to disturb him for he was decidedly out of humour. She had tried to talk to him but while he had been coolly polite and answered the questions she put to him, he made no effort to prolong the conversation and she had the distinct impression he was not enjoying the journey, or her company.

She thought ruefully that she could not blame him, for she had behaved very badly to him when he’d arrived in Scarborough. More like a spoiled schoolgirl than a young lady about to be married. And then the embarrassment of falling into his arms! It had been an unfortunate accident and she had been tempted to laugh it off until he had made the sarcastic remark that had filled her with shame and remorse. It did not matter that he had tried to recover the situation afterwards. The damage was done. One thing was certain; Mr Andrew Bastion was no gentleman.

By the time they reached the Three Bells where they were to put up for the night Elyse was not only ready for her dinner but also longing for a little conversation—even if it was only with the vexatious Mr Bastion. Really, it was no wonder that she was out of temper with the man since he had been ignoring her most of the day. She listened to him issuing his orders to the landlord, who fawned and bowed in the most sycophantic manner, and recalled her aunt’s words, that Andrew Bastion was not a man to be crossed. Well, she did not wish to cross him. Elyse had by now recovered her natural sunny spirits and she hoped she might be able to charm him into a better mood.

The private parlour set aside for them was comfortable enough and the warm weather made the sluggish fire irrelevant, so when Drew glanced around with obvious distaste she gave a little laugh, determined to be cheerful.

‘It is not palatial, but it will serve us for one night, sir.’ She waved to a tray on the side table. ‘May I pour you some wine?’

She met his frowning look with a smile and proceeded to fill two glasses. She held one out to him.

‘We made a bad start, Mr Bastion, but I think we should put our differences behind us. After all, we have only each other’s company for the next few days. Will you drink a toast with me? To new beginnings.’

‘Trying to bamboozle me, Miss Salforde?’

The look in his eyes dared her to try and she had to resist the temptation to look away.

‘Not at all, but surely the journey would pass much more quickly if we were not at odds with one another. Besides, it behoves me to be on good terms with my guardian.’

* * *

There was no guile in those velvet-brown eyes but Drew was cautious. He was too old and too experienced to be ensnared by a pretty face.

The devil of it was that Elyse Salforde was not just a pretty face. She was intelligent, too. And spirited. A damned attractive package that brought out the rake in him. He had feigned sleep for most of the day to avoid making any more remarks like the one that had slipped out at the start of their journey. It had upset her, and shown him what a dangerous line he was treading. But it now appeared that his attempts to keep the attraction at bay had resulted in her thinking he was angry with her. She was offering to make peace and he could not bring himself to snub her.

‘I agree with you,’ he said at last. ‘It will make life much more comfortable for both of us.’

She handed him a glass and raised her own. ‘I hope we can be friends from now on, sir.’

A scratching at the door announced dinner and he escorted Elyse to the little table where they took their places and waited while an array of dishes was spread before them. Drew had to admit that the food was good and the company even better. Elyse had been well educated and conversed easily on any number of subjects. Time passed quickly and he barely noticed the servant coming in to light the candles and build up the fire. He did notice, however, that unlike the previous evening, Elyse was in no hurry to dash off to her bed. When the covers had been removed and they had only their wine and a dish of sweetmeats on the table between them Drew sat back in his chair, smiling.

‘I have enjoyed this evening, Miss Salforde, very much.’

‘And do you still pity my husband?’

He laughed.

‘So that rankled, did it?’

‘Of course.’ A rueful smile lit her eyes and hovered on her full lips. ‘No woman likes to be thought unattractive.’

‘I meant merely that your husband will need his wits about him, if you are not to lead him a merry dance.’

She looked down, the dark sweep of her lashes shielding her eyes but he heard the wistful note in her voice when she replied.

‘I will have to learn to be a biddable, conformable wife.’

‘That would be a pity.’ Immediately her eyes flew to his face and he added quickly, ‘I am sure it was your liveliness that attracted Reverson in the first place.’