Gerard took off his coat and wrapped it around her. “Much better,” he said as he drew the hood over her head.
Ellen felt warmer immediately, and the oakwood scent of his coat made her a bit giddy. “This would only draw attention to me,” she managed to whisper.
“But you are less visible. Come,” Gerard said and extended his right hand. Ellen hesitated for a moment and then placed her hand in his. They both walked back into the pub and indeed drew some attention to themselves because Gerard’s coat was much too big for Ellen’s petite frame, but Gerard’s stern glare coerced the curious individuals to look away.
Sitting at the barkeeper’s table, he ordered two mugs of ale and handed one to Ellen. Bending so he could whisper in her ear, he said, “I apologize if the taste is not like anything you are used to.”
Ellen regarded him for a moment and took a massive gulp. “Ugh!” she immediately exclaimed in disgust. Her throat felt like it was on fire.
Gerard chuckled. “Easy there, little one.”
“How do you men enjoy this?” Ellen frowned. “This is the foulest thing I have ever tasted.”
“Your tongue will adjust,” replied Gerard.
Ellen saw Lady Eleanor drawing close to where she and Gerard were seated. “I want no adjustments. We are leaving, now,” she said abruptly, the finality in her tone leaving no room for argument.
“All right,” Gerard said with an exaggerated sigh and followed behind as Ellen led the way to the door. Once out, Ellen returned Gerard’s coat and wrapped hers more tightly around her.
“Are you sure? The night is quite chilly,” he said.
“I will be fine. I want to go home please,” said Ellen.
“As you wish,” Gerard replied, signaling for his coach to come around.
The wind blew strongly around them, leaving Ellen’s hair in a messy bun. Gerard lifted his hand to swipe at a tendril that escaped to her face. “Your hair looks better down,” he stated.
“And how might a gentleman know what befits a woman? You have only seen my hair like this,” Ellen laughed.
“A feeling,” replied Gerard.
“Mama says my hair let down is unflattering, not forgetting that it is also improper.”
“Really? Well, it’s quite possible she might have told a lie. And who gets to decide what is proper or not?”
When Ellen did not reply, he turned her around and unpinned the ribbon tying her hair in place, causing a mass of wavy curls to cascade down her shoulders. “See? A lie,” he said when Ellen turned back around to face him.
“The ribbon,” Ellen demanded, trying to make her voice as stern as possible.
“This ribbon?” Gerard retorted, dangling the ribbon in front of her. Ellen moved to snatch it out of his hands, but Gerard was much quicker than she was.
“Give it back,” Ellen repeated as she attempted to retrieve the ribbon from the Earl’s quick hands.
“Only if you can catch me,” Gerard laughed and took off running. Ellen gathered her skirts around her and followed in pursuit. The coach followed at a steady pace behind them.
Gerard paused at the foot of Faulkner Bridge, which allegedly separated thetonfrom the rest of the less-privileged inhabitants of London. Ellen arrived a few seconds later, panting.
“You are a handful,” she scolded.
“Come, I want to show you something,” Gerard laughed and took her hand. They walked together to the middle of the bridge where the view of the city was better. In front of them sprawled estates and manors, huge houses of thetonbut silent as night, while behind them lay people who did not have as much, but lived lives full of genuine happiness devoid of pretense.
Ellen sighed.
“I do understand what it feels like to be caged, you know,” Gerard said and began to climb the railing meant to keep people from falling off the bridge into the murky waters of the Bartine Lake below.
Ellen gasped. “What are you doing? Are you so bold that you toy with death now?”
“This is freedom, Lady Ellen,” Gerard laughed and spread his hands.
