“I doubt it would have made any difference. There’s just something about you that can’t be ignored.” Threading his fingers through hers, he placed their joined hands on his thigh. “We’ll be arriving quite late at night. You’re welcome to use my shoulder if you wish to sleep for a while.”
“Did you have a private compartment when you were a lord?”
“No, I preferred traveling by a horse-drawn coach. But trains are faster. We should be there and back in no more than four days. What if she won’t see you?”
She smiled softly. “She will. That’s not my worry.”
“What is?”
“That she’ll think it’s a ridiculous scheme ormight put too many at risk. But I’m convinced this Lucifer fellow is too cautious. He won’t do anything publicly. Because she’s become such a recluse, is seldom seen in public, a ball with her present will be a temptation too great to resist. We’ll simply need to persuade her of that.”
“I have complete faith in your ability to do so.”
She smiled at him. “Flattery, Mr. Stanwick, will get you everywhere.”
“When you look at me like that... bloody hell but I wish we were alone. I’d flatter every inch of you.”
She wished they were alone as well. Rather than confirm that, however, she simply squeezed his hand. Strange how sitting there holding hands almost seemed more intimate than being naked together between the sheets. Intimacy, she was discovering, came in many different forms and degrees.
He brought his mouth nearer to her ear, and she instinctually moved closer to him. “I’ve been thinking of your plan to go as a servant,” he said, his voice low. “It’s too limiting, won’t give you much access to the lords and ladies who will be in attendance. I’ve come up with a better idea. You should go as my wife.”
He was acutely aware of her stiffening and withdrawing, physically by removing her hand from his grasp and emotionally by erecting an invisible but chilling barrier between them. The horror that crossed her lovely features took him aback.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Marriage is not for me.”
Did she never consider it? Knowing society as he did, he could well imagine her arguments: She was quite on the shelf. She couldn’t bear children. Her lack of purity. He cared about none of those reasons, considered them all absurd.
But perhaps what she truly meant was that marriage tohimwas not for her. Perhaps like her previous lovers, he was fine for a romp between the sheets for a short while but once they’d attained their goal, they’d part ways. Not that he could blame her. While his brother and sister had been fortunate to find someone willing to overlook their pasts, he had been the heir and the family name and titles had been more strongly associated with him. He’d practically been bathed in them since birth.
“I wasn’t proposing, Esme.” Not that the notion hadn’t crossed his mind a time or two. It pricked his pride to know she was so vehemently opposed. “But if you’re going to pretend to be a servant, why not pretend to be my wife? It would give you the freedom to walk about among the guests, to overhear conversations, to judge attitudes and actions. It would make you more visible, make everyone else more visible to you. People wouldn’t question our being seen together if we needed to share some information.”
She visibly relaxed but didn’t retake his hand.“Oh. I see. Yes, that makes sense. It might be the way to proceed. We would need to come up with a story to explain our being together. How did we become acquainted?”
He glanced around at the other passengers. Most had fallen asleep. No one sat in front of them or behind them. No one could hear what they were discussing. “I was letting a room from you. Weren’t you the one who advised me that it was best to keep to the truth as much as possible?”
Her smile was slight, almost regretful. “So I have a boardinghouse. That could work. As a business owner, I would be expected to be a bit more assertive. I just don’t know if people would accept that you would marry a commoner. You were considered quite the catch a Season ago.”
“As an aging spinster, on the shelf, desperate to marry, you threw yourself at me. Considering the position my father left me in, I decided I could do worse than you.”
She scoffed. “You should be so fortunate as to have me as a wife.”
Now she was changing her tune. He offered her a teasing grin. “Precisely. I think people would find my marriage to you believable.”
She studied him. “Were we secretly married?”
“Not secretly, but quietly. I’ve not been in Society for over a year. Why would I announce my marriage?”
“When did we marry?”
“Pick a date.”
“I’ve always liked August. The fifteenth.”
He suspected she’d selected a date with some meaning to make it easier to remember. “Why is that date special?”
“It’s my birthday.”
“I’m sorry I missed it.”
