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“And you as well.” He sat up a little. He watched her straighten further, which made her pull away from him. Just a touch, but still. He hadn’t thought it possible for her to have any better posture but there it was.
“Why do you travel on such a dismal day?” Her cloak hid most of her body but that didn’t stop his eyes from wandering down her length.
Lady Bradford answered, “We’ll stop for the night in the next town. But we continue on tomorrow. We’ve an appointment. Will you be able to provide your own travel tomorrow? If not, I am sure we could assist you.”
“I will but thank you for the offer,” he answered. It was kind and not required in the situation. Though she’d probably charge him extra. “And please allow me to pay for your room tonight at the inn. A token of my appreciation.”
Lady Bradford gave a terse nod, her head jerking in a tiny movement as the muscles in her face tightened. She didn’t enjoy taking his charity. That much was obvious. Something must have befallen these women that they now needed coin.
Lady Violette dropped her chin, looking down in her lap, clearly trying to hide a blush, though it stained her cheeks still.
They were embarrassed. His chest constricted as he trained his face into a bland look. It wouldn’t do to show that he’d seen their discomfort.
The English were exceptionally polite. He’d forgotten that.
The carriage rumbled on and he leaned his head back again, this time only pretending to close his eyes, but really, he watched Lady Violette through slits.
Her hands continued to clasp and unclasp and while she held herself perfectly still, her gaze darted to him every few seconds.
He wondered if she were curious about him or frightened. He scratched again at the growth on his face and he caught sight of the back of his tanned hand. He must look like a vagabond. It gave him a slight pang that he didn’t appear more polished. While he’d enjoy his mother’s disapproval, he hadn’t meant to frighten women who cl
early had few options.
Biting back a growl of annoyance, he sat up and gave up the pretense of sleeping. Both women jumped, just enough to show their fear, and an actual growl snuck past his lips. Which made them jump again. He should have told them his title. He could stave off a few women, but frightening them was ridiculous.
“How much longer, do you have any idea?” he asked quietly, trying to keep his voice soft.
“I…I am not sure,” Lady Bradford answered. “My apologies.”
“No need to apologize.” He gave them a smile, but it felt forced and Violette winced before returning the gesture. She really was a little doe and likely worried about all the wolves in the woods. As well she should be.
A protectiveness he hadn’t felt in ages rose in his chest. The last time he’d felt like this, some older boys had teased his sister, Tricia, about her red hair. He’d interceded and gotten a black eye for his trouble.
Hell and damnation. What was happening to him?
* * *
He was staring again. Those blue eyes assessing her as though they could read her very soul. She’d been doing her utmost not to squirm under his gaze but it was difficult. “I can ask the driver if you like?” She would also like to know how much longer they’d be in this carriage. She found their guest…disconcerting.
She was afraid but also rather intrigued. He spoke like a gentleman, he looked like a dangerous highwayman, but there was a certain amount of excitement that surrounded him. She gave herself a mental shake. Excitement was not what she needed to find.
That emotion led to a lady’s ruin. What she needed was stability. A man who was responsible. Who’d care for not only her but her family as well. Highwaymen did not fit into her future or her present.
She wished he’d pretend to sleep again. It was easier to ignore his stare. She tired of looking out a bleary window. But as she stared a small farmhouse came into view and then a barn. Soon, Violette saw another and she realized they’d made it to the small village in Hampshire where they’d stay the night.
“We’re here,” she announced softly, turning with a bright smile. Truth be told, she was both relieved to have this tense journey at an end and, surprisingly, a touch disappointed. It had been one of the most interesting carriage rides of her life.
Mr. Riley sat up, his gaze openly fixed upon her. She looked up to the ceiling and then down at the floor, but still he stared. “You’ve a lovely speaking voice, Lady Violette,” he said in that low rumble that seemed to dance across her skin.
She gave a tight jerk of her head to accept the compliment. It would be rude to ignore it, but his attention knotted her stomach. “Thank you.”
The carriage pulled up to the Drury Inn and the driver stepped down to snap open the door. Mr. Riley exited first and then stepped aside to help her mother and then herself out. She blinked back her surprise at the gesture. As her gloved hand slipped into his, she held her breath to keep from sucking it in.
Those piercing blue eyes watched her with a precision that made her certain he’d seen her reaction as she once again dropped her gaze to the ground. Why did he turn her into such a mouse?
“Ladies, I will meet you in the inn. I first need to make accommodations for my injured horse.” Then he turned and was gone.
Violette and her mother hurried into the inn, looking for respite from the rain. Once safely tucked into the foyer, Violette turned to her mother. “Do you really think that was wise?”
