Page 57 of Cupid Comes to Little Valentine

Finding her courage, Clementine cracked first one eye, relieved to discover he was not staring at her in disgust. Rather, there was a look in his eyes that she could not quite read, but it seemed to be one of surprise and wonder, and he did not seem in the least bit displeased. Indeed, he looked rather smug.

Still, her cheeks, already pink from exertion, burned as she met his eyes. He grinned then, such a boyish, pleased expression that it tickled her, and she laughed. As that only made his grin wider still, she laughed harder and did not stop until he had rearranged her skirts and pulled her back beside him.

“Now, you dreadful creature, will you please sit still and behave yourself until we get home? You have done terrible things to my equilibrium, not to mention other places, and now I shall suffer until we get to Cavendish House. I hope you are proud of yourself?”

The way he said the words made her realise she was indeed proud of herself. She had surprised him, and, in a way, he was clearly delighted with. In that moment, Clementine promised herself she would always be brave with him, and perhaps if she was, she might encourage him to be more than just her friend. For she wanted that, she realised, as her heart gave an uneven thud. She wanted her husband to be everything to her, and to be everything to him in return, and she did not wish to settle for less.

It was foolish of her, when he had been very clear with what he was offering her, but Clementine was ready for the fight. She was stubborn and clever, and more than a bit devious. She would do everything she could to induce him to love her and, if he could not, she must find a way to live with that, for it was obvious to her now that she was falling in love with the man she had married, and she did not wish to be in love all on her own.

Perhaps sensing the turmoil of her thoughts, Beaumarsh frowned and lifted a hand to her cheek. “Clementine? Are you well? I did not shock you too badly, I hope?”

She smiled at the concern in his eyes and turned her face into his palm, covering it with her own as she pressed a kiss there. He looked far more startled by the tender gesture than she had been at his shocking intimacy. Tension sang through him, and he seemed not to know what to say.

“You did shock me, quite delightfully,” she admitted with a smile. “I hope you will continue to do so.”

The sudden tautness in him relaxed a degree, and his lips twitched. “Oh, I will do my best, love. You have my word.”

Before he could continue, the carriage lurched into a pothole, and he closed his eyes.

“Oh, this is going to be the very devil of a journey,” he said, sounding at once entertained and appalled.

Clementine’s gaze shifted, and she suddenly noticed why he was so uncomfortable.

Ah. Yes. That.

Curious, she reached to touch him. “Is there anything I can—?”

“You’ve done quite enough damage, I thank you,” he said, snatching hold of her wrist before she could get any closer. He kept hold of her, lacing their fingers together and resting them on her knee. “Just wait until I get you home,” he added, squeezing her fingers and looking at her with such a twinkle in his eyes Clementine could only settle back and feel exceedingly pleased with herself.

The journey could not go fast enough.

Chapter 16

Mama dearest…

Cavendish House, Kent. 1st August 1815.

They stopped at The Bell in Ticehurst as promised, to change horses and stretch their legs. Though they were not hungry, having recently finished the contents of the picnic, Clementine enjoyed a pot of tea and some freshly baked biscuits, whilst Beaumarsh drank a pint of ale.

“It’s very good,” he said, licking his lips with relish. “Try some.”

Clementine regarded the dark amber liquid dubiously but, having decided in the carriage she would be bold, she took the heavy glass from him and raised it to her lips.

“Ugh!” She pulled a face and set the glass down, hastening to pick up her tea and take a sip. “How can you drink that? It’s so bitter!” He laughed. “That’s what makes it good. Refreshing,” he added, taking a large swallow.

“I will content myself with tea and biscuits. Now, if you have champagne or wine, I might reconsider sharing,” she added, taking another biscuit from the plate and smacking his hand when he went to take one himself.

“Ah, but what’s yours is mine, my lady,” he said with a wink, and snatched one, stuffing it in his mouth whole as she rolled her eyes at him.

“Such a child.”

He grinned, still chewing, and Clementine laughed.

The rest of the journey seemed to go on forever, as the day waned and the sun dropped ever lower. Yet, though she felt they had been travelling for days, it was barely seven in the evening when Beaumarsh announced they were approaching his home.

“I hope you like it,” he said, and she noticed the way his brow furrowed and realised he was a little anxious.

“I’m certain I shall, if you do,” she said with a smile, but this did not seem to soothe him. “You do like it here?” she asked, suddenly filled with trepidation.