Page 62 of Reforming Lord Neil

With a faint shrug, he lowered his head and rubbed his palms upon the knees of his trousers. “I would only have you in a place where you are happy, Teresa.”

Her name again, spoken like a caress, made her heart tighten and trip. “Where would you go?” she asked, though she knew she would not like the answer. “If you could go anywhere to live?”

“I have not recently come into money.” He evaded the question quite expertly. “What would you improve about your house?”

“I would add on to it, I think. You have not been upstairs, but there are the four rooms, and they are all very small. I should like to make an addition to both floors. It would be wonderful to have a place for a pianoforte—a small one only, of course. A desk, bookshelves, and things to make it easier to educate Caroline. Then have larger bedrooms, so that there is room for more than a bed to sleep upon. A second chimney on the other side of the house for warmth.” Before Teresa knew it, she was describing all the ways in which she could make Bramble Cottage a home fit for a lady and her daughter. Neil nodded, asked questions, but for the most part he did no more than listen.

He sat with his elbows on his knees, leaning forward as though intent upon every word she said.

At last Teresa ended her rambling, not sure how much time had passed. They had moved on to discuss what the money would mean to Caroline’s education, and how little Teresa wanted to send her daughter away. Neil appeared to agree with her when she said it would make her happier to educate her daughter at home.

“I haven’t a great deal of experience with children, you understand.” His grin turned crooked. “But your Caroline is sweetly tempered and has always struck me as intelligent, too. You have done well by her thus far. I cannot see how a school would do better.”

“You are in such an agreeable mood today.” Teresa yawned, and covered it quickly with her hand. “Do forgive me. I am afraid I did not sleep well last night. I think I was over-excited.”

“I cannot blame you for that. Do you sleep well in carriages?”

“Not particularly. How does anyone sleep with their heads bobbing about?” Teresa demonstrated, leaning against her wall. “You see? It is nearly impossible.”

A spark of mischief appeared in his eyes. “I know a trick that may help with that.”

“I dare not ask, given the way you are smiling at me.” Teresa laughed when he changed his expression to one of exaggerated innocence. “Those wide green eyes do not at all fool me, Neil Duncan. Whatever you would suggest, I imagine it would not be helpful in the least.”

He crossed his arms, smirking. “You think I mean to tease you?”

“I do. You have no intention of being helpful at all.” She tipped her chin up, daring him to prove her wrong.

Neil took her dare. He moved across the carriage to sit beside her, after tossing her bonnet to land next to his hat. Teresa sucked in a breath, her lips parting. It was not entirely scandalous, to sit next to him in a carriage. But he was suddenly so very close.

His arm stretched across the back of the seat, going around her shoulders. “Here. I will keep your head from bobbing about. You may get the rest you need. And before you protest about propriety, I will remind you that no one need ever know of your lapse. I will say nothing. You will take a nap. All will be well.”

“You are most difficult, Lord Neil,” she said, decidedly not looking at him. He was too close. If she turned her face to his, they would be near enough to touch noses. But that was not, she knew, what would happen.

“Only Neil, please. I far prefer my place as your friend to my place as the marquess’s son.”

Teresa relaxed, then leaned her head upon his shoulder. “I suppose if you offer me your shoulder—as a friend—then there is no harm in taking a little nap.” Not that she thought she would sleep, with his arm around her. She preferred to stay awake. He was warm, and strong. She had seen him work in the fields, trees, and barn, and knew him to be capable of offering her safety and protection.

But the arm around her meant more than those things. He held her carefully, as though she mattered to him. As more than a friend.

She fell asleep, though she could not say when.

And she dreamed all the while of being held.

* * *

Things had to return to the way they were. Neil knew that. Eventually, he must return to his family. There would come a time when Teresa would no longer need him, or when it would drive him mad to not kiss her senseless when she came near. He was not so much of a fool that he dared to think they could keep going on the path they were on and it not lead to liberties taken or trust broken.

He loved her. He had absolutely nothing to offer her by means of funds or position. She deserved more than a man dependent upon her. He must leave her.

But for the time he could, he held her while she slept in the carriage. Her head dipped, resting upon his chest. He bent his head just enough to breathe in her scent. His lips brushed a dark curl.

Teresa did not need him. But he desperately needed her.

Neil swallowed and closed his eyes. If he asked, would she marry him? While he was nothing but a disinherited man with no skills to recommend him? What woman in her right mind would say yes to such a thing?

If he ever found the courage to ask, and then she said no, it would be the end. He could not possibly linger. Not merely because of the blow to whatever pride he had left, which was little enough all things considered, but because of the pain.

Neil woke her when it was time to change the horses, and he moved to his side of the carriage before they stopped. She smiled gratefully as he returned her bonnet to her. While the servants changed the horses, the passengers would take refreshment, and then be on their way again.