Her neck and shoulder began to tingle as his arm slid along the top of the seat behind her. She wanted him to touch her again, just a little, and she was surprised to discover how disappointed she was when he did not.
“I’ve had a wonderful day,” he said as they entered the carriage yard an hour later. “Please compliment the cook for me.”
Was that all he could say? A pout began to tug on her mouth, and she made herself smile politely. Perhaps she was expecting too much too soon. After all, his reputation was that of a perfect gentleman. Yet did that mean he was passionless? She could not imagine living without passion. “I will. I’m sure she’ll be pleased.”
He jumped down and waved away her groom as he reached out for her. Once again Kit’s large, warm hands circled her waist, lifting her to the ground. Mary pretended to stumble, and he pulled her closer. Less than an inch separated her chest from his. The pulse beneath his jaw jumped. Did that mean he felt something for her after all? How was she to know for sure?
Phoebe, Countess of Evesham, stood on the bottom step of Robert and Serena Beaumont’s home in York with a list in her hand, ticking off items as they were loaded on the six large traveling coaches lined up in the drive. “I think this is the last of it.”
Her husband, Marcus, shook his head. “This reminds me of setting off for France with Serena. Have you warned Lady Mary we’re coming?”
“Of course.” Phoebe pinched the bridge of her nose. “I still cannot believe their grandmothers did this. It was all I could do not to give them a piece of my mind. How unfair to both Kit and Mary. I only wish I had known how desperate the situation with Mary had become. If she wants out of this arrangement, I shall do my best to find a way.”
“What about Featherton?” Her husband’s tone was gentle but firm. “He’s just as trapped as she is, and his reputation is equally at risk.”
Phoebe gazed at Marcus and became distracted by his turquoise eyes. He grew more handsome every year. Tucking her hand in his arm, she said, “We shall help both of them.”
“And pray to God their interests are not opposed.”
Phoebe sighed.Now wouldn’t that be a pickle.“Indeed.”
“Mamma, Papa.” Almost two years old, Arthur broke away from his nurse and pelted down the steps.
Marcus caught him, throwing the child up in the air as Arthur squealed. “Are you ready for a journey?”
Arthur burrowed his head in Marcus’s shoulder. “I ride with you.”
“Only if you behave.”
His son nodded. “I be good.”
“You do realize,” Phoebe pointed out, “Ben will now wish to ride with Rutherford.”
Marcus shrugged. “I doubt Anna will object.” A wicked glint shone in his eyes. “In any event, Rutherford probably needs the practice.”
The other two couples who were traveling with Phoebe and Marcus—the Rutherfords and Gervais and Caro, Earl and Countess of Huntley—made their way down the stairs, followed by Robert and Serena Beaumont. Rutherford held his son Ben’s hand. Huntley had his arm around Caro’s ever-increasing waist.
“I so wish we could accompany you,” Serena said, hugging Phoebe. “You’ll let us know if we can help.”
“I shall.” She embraced her cousin. “Take care of my goddaughter.”
Serena glanced over at Robert, who was holding the baby. “I don’t think you need to worry.”
Marcus grinned. “I’m trying to figure out who’s more besotted.”
“You’re jealous,” Robert retorted, “because I have two beautiful ladies and you have only one.”
A few moments later, three horses were brought round. Marcus settled Arthur on a large roan before swinging up behind him and attaching the belt Marcus used to fasten his son securely to him.
“Papa, I go with you,” Ben demanded, holding up his hands.
Rutherford heaved a sigh. “Very well, but I’m not changing your clout.”
Once Anna and Caro were settled in the lead coach, Phoebe allowed herself to be handed up. “Sam,” she called to her coachman, “we’re ready.”
She settled back in her seat, and Caro asked, “Have you heard from Mary?”
Phoebe shook her head. “Only the one letter welcoming us and letting me know all would be ready.”
