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A laugh forced its way out before he could stop it. “I’d vow the ladies of Holbrook are wishing they’d kept to themselves, too.”
“Oh?”
“I chanced to overhear a rather heated conversation as I passed their coach,” he confessed, unable to help smiling. “Eleanor was delivering a rather impassioned denunciation. I believe I heard her use the term ‘vermin’.”
“If things have begun to deteriorate at this early juncture, it is doubtful they will make it to London with any civility intact.” Her lips pursed. “Perhaps I ought to have Eleanor join me. What think you?”
“I think such an invitation would be received with much gratitude,” he said at once.
“So be it. Ask her—ah, just Eleanor, if you please—to join me when we stop. Until then, I shall rest.” Without further comment, she withdrew and the window snapped shut.
Smiling, Sorin made his way back up front. As he passed the other carriage, he heard Rowena’s voice, though it remained low enough that her words were indistinguishable. Hopefully, she’d be able to smooth things over. He restrained a sigh as he approached the head of the line. Yarborough was still blathering on.
Charles glanced at him as he drew up, scowling. “Great galloping galligaskins, will he never cease?” he muttered. “We have six days of this to endure.”
“Cheer up,” Sorin said with a grin. “Eventually, he’ll run out of things to say about himself.”
A soft snort erupted from Charles. “I’d be slow to lay any wagers on it. I fear our only hope lies in the sudden onset of a malady of the throat. One severe enough to keep him hoarse until London,” he added, his scowl deepening.
Sorin didn’t bother smothering his laughter even when Yarborough turned to peer at them curiously. He didn’t offer any explanation for his outburst either. Let the oaf think what he would and continue acting like an ass. Sir Yarborough’s conduct would only serve to drive Eleanor away—hopefully straight into his waiting arms. If I can manage to make her see me as more than a friend, that is. And then there was the matter of convincing Charles not to run him through.
He wouldn’t be the only one to ask for Eleanor’s hand, of that much he was certain. Yarborough was quite obviously seeking to impress her family. No doubt he would approach Charles with hat in hand soon after they reached London. But Sorin knew all the boasting in the world would not avail him. If the look on Charles’s face was any indication, he was already developing a passionate dislike for their new traveling companion.
“Did I tell you that Lord Winthrop invited me to dine with him and his family next week?” Yarborough called back, eliciting a low groan from Charles. “He was an old friend of my father’s. It is my hope that he’ll support my ambition to take a seat in the Commons.”
Now that was a surprise.
“Did he just say that he plans to become a Member of Parliament?” whispered Charles, clearly just as taken aback as he was.
“I believe he did.”
“God help us all.”
“I do hope you’ll both support me as well,” continued Yarborough loudly, flashing a winning grin at them over his shoulder.
“In a pig’s eye,” said Charles through his teeth as he smiled back and nodded.
Sorin kept his mouth shut and pondered this news in silence. Unless he’d by some unknown means increased his family’s worth, Yarborough couldn’t run for a seat. His father had sold off too much of their property in recent years for him to be eligible. Something wasn’t right. The fellow was throwing around money like he had no end of it, and now he was boasting about his plans to enter into politics. Something had certainly changed his income and prospects, but what?
“I’ve been meaning to ask a favor of you,” said Charles quietly.
Sorin looked to his friend, marking his serious manner. “You know you have only to name it.”
“Yes, well, it may prove a bit awkward for you, this particular favor,” said Charles, eyeing him. “I need someone to help me keep an eye on Ellie this Season.”
Sorin did his best to maintain a placid demeanor. “Are you anticipating some sort of trouble?”
“A bit, yes. Not from Ellie, of course,” amended Charles hastily. “Rather from her friend, Miss Caroline. Rowena confided in me that the girl has been…well, let us just say she’s been restless of late. She also has an unfortunate tendency toward reckless behavior. Scandal has haunted her footsteps almost since she came out. If she trips the edge and becomes embroiled in anything serious, I want to ensure none of it touches Ellie.”
“I can hardly prevent Miss Caroline from behaving inappropriately,” Sorin began, keeping his voice low so as not to be overheard.
“No, but you can ensure that Ellie is with someone who will watch out for her and behave properly in her company while Rowena and I have our hands full. Your presence at her side will discourage any adventurers from thinking her unattended.” His friend looked at him sidelong. “I would have asked you to help look after Miss Caroline, but I suspect she’d only try to entrap you. An idea that—unless I’m woefully lacking in intuition—likely holds no appeal for you.”
“Indeed it does not,” Sorin said drily. “I am most grateful for your mercy and will gladly act as Ellie’s chaperone, if that is your desire.” Though the windfall elated him, he felt rather like a fox that had just been asked to guard a henhouse.
“Wonderful!” said Charles, his smile returning. “Ah, but perhaps it might be best not to tell her what you’re on about, if you know what I mean,” he said with a wink. “I know you’re fast friends and all that, but she might not take too kindly to your playing the watchdog.”
Watchdog indeed. “I shall be discreet.” He had to ask it. “Are you not concerned that my hovering might cause people to think us a pair?”
