Already His (The Caversham Chronicles - Book Two) (23 page)

“You have the one day you requested. Make the most of your time.”

“You’ll find your sister a completely different woman when you arrive tomorrow,” he promised.

“Just make sure she isn’t
harmed,
am I making myself clear?”

“Very clear,
brother
.” He headed toward the door, turned around and gave his friend a smile. “I like the sound of that.
Brother
. I’ve never had a brother before, you know. And there isn’t anyone I’d want for a brother more than you.”

Ren smiled back at him.

“Until tomorrow, then.” Michael followed Elise out to the waiting coach.

He climbed into the vehicle and found Elise with her nose in a book, refusing to acknowledge his presence. He made himself comfortable in the seat across from her and knocked on the roof. Instantly, they were off. Nearly an hour later, she was still ignoring him.

“Would you care to stop and stretch your legs, my lady?”

Nothing.

“Well, I would like to stop and stretch mine.” He tapped on the roof and, minutes later, the heavy traveling coach rolled to a smooth stop. The coachman opened the door and lowered the steps. Elise looked up at him momentarily then returned to reading her book. Michael stepped down, walked around the coach and into the woods a moment. When he heard the other coach in their caravan nearing, he hurriedly righted his trousers and went back. In the other vehicle was Elise’s maid, riding alone. Thinking it best Elise not know this, lest she invite the woman to ride with them, he climbed back inside and tapped on the roof, getting them moving again.

“It’ll be some six hours before we reach Woodhenge,” he said. “I’ll provide you ample opportunity for comfort breaks, should you choose to take them.”

Still no reply. Because of the oppressive heat he removed his coat and freed the buttons on his waistcoat. Sitting back, he closed his eyes and rested his head against the velvet squab. He needed to catch a quick nap. Lord knew he hadn’t had much sleep recently. A certain amber-eyed vixen had been haunting his dreams.

E
lise finished her book and dropped it onto the seat next to her. She fidgeted in growing discomfort, but was too proud to ask the sleeping Michael to stop for her. As if sensing her situation, he opened his eyes and pulled his pocket watch from his waistcoat.

“It’s been over two hours,” he said. “Are you finally ready to stop and stretch your legs?”

She didn’t reply. She hated him for what he had planned for her. His motives had become crystal clear to her this morning. This was how he was going to be rid of her. He’d do something to make her the scandal of the season, then she’d be forced to leave town in shame. She was determined not to have any part of his scheme. She resolved to comport herself in a manner above reproach, ignoring and staying as far from him as she possibly could. Which was damn near impossible to accomplish in the confines of a slow moving traveling coach.

“Fine with me,” he replied. “I could go for another couple of hours. It’ll get us to our destination sooner.”

She gave a frustrated snort and banged on the roof herself. When the vehicle had stopped moving, she grabbed the strap and positioned herself to bolt from the door the moment it opened.

As soon as the steps lowered, she raced into the woods to relieve herself. As she was righting her drawers, she heard his footsteps following behind her. “Stop! Don’t come any closer,” she pleaded.

“I only wanted to make sure my lady wasn’t thinking of fleeing my company,” he said. “That’s all.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” she muttered under her breath. “Probably hoping to spy me in my drawers, or worse.”

“It’s the truth,” he said with a chuckle, “whether you care to believe it or not.”

“You’re not supposed to eavesdrop on a lady when she’s relieving herself. It’s uncouth.” She rearranged the skirts of her chemise and favorite peach-and-cream-colored poplin carriage dress, wishing she could remove her spencer. The day was getting warmer as it went on and she was beginning to feel uncomfortable in the coach, even with all the windows open.

She debated with herself on whether or not she should remove the article of clothing. When she neared their coach, she saw Michael squatting in the grass watching over the two kittens. He was such a soft-hearted man, at least when it came to animals and small children, though he was nothing of the sort where she was concerned.

“Ready?” he asked, looking up at her.

“Yes,” she replied. “Where is the other coach?”

“Behind us. Not to worry. It’s moving slower because of the additional weight.”

“I wasn’t worried. I just wanted to get another book to read.”

“They’ll catch up with us in about an hour when we stop for lunch. There’s an inn ahead that’s known to have a decent cook.”

She climbed into the coach ahead of him and took the basket of kittens he handed up to her. Resting the basket on the floor between the seats, she prayed he would hurry so the vehicle could get underway again, pushing what little breeze was available through the windows.

He climbed in, the doors were closed, and he signaled the driver. They started forward at a walk rather than a trot, to allow the other coach to catch up. Of course, this did nothing to help move air through their conveyance in a comfortable manner. Elise fidgeted in her seat.

“Do you need to stop again?”

“No.”

“Then why are you so flushed and fidgety?”

She wondered whether she should tell him. Being a man, he’d of course tell her to remove the offensive bit of cloth and allow the breeze to cool her. But society dictated rules—not just of fashion but also mores—be strictly adhered to by ladies of her tender age and social standing. And one of those rules was not removing clothing in front of a man not your husband.

“Michael, I’m feeling very warm. I need either more breeze coming through these windows or I must remove this spencer before I faint from the heat.”

“Remove the spencer,” he said. “It’s as simple as that.”

When she didn’t move to unbutton the jacket, he asked, “Did you need help removing it?”

“No! It’s just that....” She trailed off, knowing if she told him her concern, he’d laugh at her. The old Elise wouldn’t have given a thought to removing the spencer. The old Elise regularly bucked convention and skated that fine line between propriety and scandal.

But that was the old Elise. Then a thought shot through her head, causing her to bolt upright in her seat. She hadn’t just been placating her brother by telling him she’d changed. She really had. Astounding! Who would have guessed?

“Elise you’re going to have to remove the spencer before I remove it for you. You’re looking rather pale.”

Those were the last words she remembered hearing.

N
ot all the servants were accustomed to seeing such tender caring from a man toward a woman. But Tom, the Caversham coachman, swore it was how their Duke acted toward his Duchess. Then he smiled, knowing His Grace’s sister was in very good hands.

Of course, Bridget muttered under her breath about the
two
of them bringing scandal down on the family after she witnessed the Earl of Camden removing the spencer from Lady Elise’s unconscious body.

C
HAPTER
N
INE

“I
detest smelling salts!” Elise opened her eyes and shoved the offending bottle away from her face, then gave him a frosty glare.

“Then you should not have fainted.” Relief flowed through Michael. For a moment, fear of losing her had paralyzed him, but when he realized what had happened he’d ordered the coach to stop and called for her maid to help him. God, he was going to hate explaining this to her brother.

“I didn’t faint. I
never
faint.”

He cracked a cocksure grin. “Right.”

“Did I hear my lady? Has she come to?” Bridget asked behind him.

Elise tried to sit up, but he held her down. “Rest. Your maid’s just concerned. Yes, she’s finally come around,” he said to the maid. “Why do you women insist on wearing things like this—” Michael held up the spencer. “—on warm days like today?”

“Because,” the servant said, “to appear indecently dressed will bring the wrath of society down onto her head. It’s my job to see that she at least appears conventional.”

“Did you...?” Elise sputtered, apparently just noticing her sleeveless dress and unbuttoned collar. “How did...?”

“I removed it to aid in cooling you. Don’t worry, I didn’t take any liberties. I was too busy fanning you with your book.” He lowered his voice so Bridget couldn’t hear him, and added, “Besides, when that time comes, I want you very much conscious, my sweet.” Smiling, he thought, how he looked forward to that day.

Elise muttered something he didn’t fully catch, though it sounded like a rant about stubborn men and their misguided allegiance. Michael knew she was well when she turned another frigid glance his way. “Let’s be off then,” he said. “Woodhenge is still some four hours distant, without the stop for lunch.” He held Elise’s hand, preventing her from leaving the coach and riding with her waiting maid. “No. You stay with me. She can ride in the other coach.”

“Oh! You arrogant cur,” she hissed. “I don’t
want
to ride with you.”

He held his tongue thinking she would definitely want to be with him before this day was over. If only he could restrain his frustration at her insolence. “Be that as it may, you will.” He sent Bridget back to her vehicle, and shut the door on theirs. Soon they were underway once again.

Within minutes Elise fidgeted with the book she’d finished. He could tell she was contemplating re-reading the thing to avoid talking to him. He didn’t want that. He wanted her ebullience and vivaciousness to fill the coach. He wanted to talk to her, explaining the decision he’d come to, and ask if she’d still felt the same about him, and about a possible future together. Then afterward, assuming she still did, he would laugh with her, hold her, touch her, kiss her.

But if she didn’t, he had only twenty four hours in which to change her mind. And the only way to begin with this spirited minx was to be honest, because that was the one thing he knew she valued beyond measure. She always had.

“Do you remember that night at the Holderman’s?” he began, his voice sounding somewhat strange, even to himself.
Maintain control
, his brain ordered his heart. When she nodded, he continued, “Do you remember what you said?”

“I’m afraid I said a great deal that night.” She stared out the window, avoiding eye contact with him. “I cannot remember specifically what it is you wish me to recall.”

Michael took a deep breath, almost afraid to begin. “You said, ‘
Have you ever known something to be so right and true in your deepest heart, without ever knowing how it could be that you know.
’ I have not forgotten your words. You spoke from your heart when you said that.” She turned to face him, and he thought he saw a flicker of something, an emotion deep inside her she was yet unwilling to give rise to, so he continued, hoping it was the response he’d wanted. “I think I understand what you meant now, because I don’t know where this feeling is coming from. I only know that I don’t want to lose it.”

“May I ask how you came to this conclusion?” Her voice barely contained her emotion. He could see that she wanted to believe him, and he could only continue as he’d began, with honesty.

“On my word, Elise, this... this... whatever-it-is between us caught me very much unaware. One day, you were just Ren’s annoying sister, and the next I wanted you and at the same time knew I could never have you. Then I started thinking
why
I couldn’t and every reason came back to one thing—the agreement your brother and I made when we were young, in which we promised each other that our sisters were off limits. At the time it was made, I worried about your brother breaking Christina’s heart. You were never an issue, as you were just a child at the time.”

She didn’t react to his speech, but he could see she was fighting a smile. Michael removed the loosened cravat completely, as it was growing warmer and more stuffy inside the slow-going coach. He shed his unbuttoned waistcoat, tossing it onto the seat with his jacket, and continued, “Then there was our age difference. In my head, I wasn’t seeing you as the young woman you’ve become, but rather as the little sister of my friend. Am I making sense so far?”

Michael could see the hope bubbling just beneath the surface, but she just nodded mutely. He went on. “That night, at the Holderman’s, you tried to tell me the age issue was irrelevant, but I wouldn’t let myself believe it. Then
you
, termagant that you are, arranged that evening at the theater with Huddleston and Wilson.”

“I’ve got questions about that...” she began, but as realization dawned, her eyes first widened with shock, then narrowed with skepticism. “How did you know....”

He held up a hand to cut her off. “Later, please. Let me finish. When I asked Ren about allowing someone older than me to court you, he reminded me of a few things and clarified others, basically telling me what you’d said the night of the Holderman’s ball—that our age difference would not be an issue with him.