Everything I Ever Wanted (18 page)

India's eyes were opened now, and she felt a vague tension in the line of her body. She remained where she was, not because she was becalmed but because she knew herself to be thoroughly beguiled. "And do you want me?"

"Very much."

"Oh."

Southerton gave her shoulders a small squeeze. "Yes, well, there you have it."

Indeed. India felt the pressure of tears at the back of her eyes, but they remained curiously dry. Swallowing was more difficult. An ache filled her throat. She barely understood her own reaction to his words. She was not even certain she believed him, but then, perhaps he did not expect her to. At once beguiled and suspicious of the same, India knew herself to be at the center of a most provoking paradox. "Vexing," she whispered.

"Yes. And I make no apology for it."

India sat up slowly. She brushed absently at a few loose strands of hair that had been caught between her cheek and his shoulder, tucking them behind her ear. South reached toward her and adjusted the slant of her velvet hat. She let her feet slide to the floor and immediately felt the cold air seep through the seams of her thin leather shoes. A shiver shook her from shoulder to toe.

"You were fine where you were," South told her.

She was tempted to correct him. She had been warm, not fine. "Where are we going?" India asked. "Surely you can reveal our destination now."

"A cottage at Ambermede."

"You could have said as much to me at any time, m'lord. It means nothing to me."

"I did not want to concern myself that you might speak of it to others."

"Yes, of course. You would think of that."

"A precaution."

She understood. Lord Southerton was a cautious man, the colonel's man. "Have you been in the colonel's employ long?"

"Longer than you."

India supposed that enigmatic response was the best she could expect. "Did you serve with him?"

"No, he was in the regiments. I was at sea, remember?"

"How did your paths cross?"

One of South's brows kicked up, and he regarded India askance. "Are you interrogating me, India?"

"Does it seem so? I assure you, I am merely curious. I met the colonel but once, five years ago. In all that time I have not been in communication with him, nor talked about him to another soul except as it had to do with a specific request for my services."

"With Mr. Kendall, for instance."

"Yes. He was one."

"How many others over the years?"

She thought back."A half dozen, I would say. My contributions were sporadic and limited. With the exception of Mr. Kendall, my contact with others was brief."

"I understand from the colonel that until recently you traveled a great deal."

India nodded. "With the troupe. France. Italy. Belgium. Spain. We were welcomed in many places in spite of the war with Napoleon. I imagine it is that very thing that suggested my usefulness to the colonel in the first place."

"Why you?" he asked. "And not someone else in the troupe?"

"I have no idea. I should be interested to know the reason myself. I wish you would ask him."

"I did. I only wondered if you knew. As you told me once, there was no quid pro quo. He said he chose you because you were resourceful."

She smiled to herself. "And nothing else?"

"No. He is not given to long discourse or to explaining himself."

"The colonel was being disingenuous," she said. "He observed a performance of Much Ado About Nothing in which our courtyard fountain collapsed, a painted backdrop was split by a wayward sword, potted trees fell, and I was much set upon by a drunken Don Pedro and an overly amorous Claudio."

"You were Beatrice or Hero?"

"Oh, no. A much smaller role. I was Ursula." At his frown, she explained, "A gentlewoman attending on Hero. The gropings of Don Pedro and Claudio made it difficult for Hero to sustain their attention. I spoke many lines that night not penned by Master Shakespeare, including, ' Nay, sir, do not show me your Cupid's arrow for I have had my quiver full .' " India waited for her audience of one to stop laughing. "That was when Claudio was trying to lift my skirt," she said primly. "Something had to be done."

"Would it explain the fountain's collapse?" asked South.

"My foot in his hindquarters would explain that. He went head over bucket."

"And the backdrop?"

"Don Pedro's sword, I'm afraid. I was forced to defend my virtue."

"You disarmed him?"

She nodded, "I am told I gave a good account of myself, the backdrop notwithstanding."

South's lips quirked. "The fallen trees?"

"Hero threw one at my head," she admitted after a moment.

"I've always thought of Hero as a delicate sort. Not one to heft potted plants and toss them at her maidservant's head."

"She thought I was trampling her lines and purposely bringing the audience's attention around to me. That arouses passion in an actress."

South had reason to know that was true. Hexlearly remembered India's challenge from the stage. "You avoided the tree?"

"Oh, yes. I was able to take refuge behind Claudio. Did I mention he was felled by one of them?"

"No. You omitted that part."

"Well, now you have the whole of it."

He only wished he had been witness to it."Resourceful," he said finally. "Yes, I understand why he chose you."

The carriage hit a deep rut in the road, was stalled momentarily by the suck of the mud, then surged forward. India and South were both lifted from their seats, but it was India who would have fallen to the floor if South had not caught her. He pulled her back by the waist and sat her firmly down. "Are you all right?"

"Yes."

South rapped hard on the roof of the carriage. "Have a care, Darrow," he called loudly. If there was a reply, South could not hear it.

"We are in a hurry?" India asked.

"Not so much that we should risk arriving in pieces." As he slipped his arm from under her back, South felt the rumble of her stomach. "You are hungry."

Since it was more of an observation than a question, India could not very well deny it. She nodded.

" Then I think we should avail ourselves of the repast the good Miss Brinker prepared for us."

"Miss Brinker?"

"The innkeeper's daughter." He pointed to the basket sitting between the twin valises on the opposite seat. "Darrow promises me we will not be disappointed. He supervised the packing himself." Southerton plucked the basket free and set it on his lap. He opened the lid and investigated the contents. "Bread. Cheese. Fruit. A pint of ale."

"The ale," India said and held out her hand.

She was indeed outside the common mode, South thought, and hoped he did not fall in love with her. That rather vague and pensive wish made his thoughts turn suddenly to his friend Northam. He wondered if North had been of a similar mind concerning Elizabeth before he dropped like a stone at her feet and proposed marriage.

India opened the pint jar and raised it to her lips. She drank deeply and was almost immediately warmed from the inside out. Without a word she passed the jar back to South and rooted through the basket until she had a wedge of bread and cheese in hand. She sank back against the leather squabs and began to eat. "Perhaps you think I should not reveal my appetite so openly," she said. "It is not the done thing."

It was not, but South didn't mind in the least. He had seen sailors fall ravenously on crusts of mealy bread and it had never turned his stomach. He had been one of them once. "When did you last eat?" he asked.

India swallowed a bite of cheese. "Yesterday. A soft-cooked egg, I think. In the morning." She tore off a smaller wedge of bread from the one she'd taken and put it in her mouth. "Mayhap I had the first hints of a megrim even then. It was no easy thing to keep that small nourishment in its place."

"Delicately put."

She flushed. "Forgive me. I fear the ale has gone to my head. I should not speak of such things."

South found a crisp apple in the basket. He gave it a little toss before he palmed and polished it on the cuffed sleeve of his greatcoat. He offered it to India, but she shook her head, satisfied with cheese and bread for the moment. South bit into it himself. The sweet-tart taste of the apple puckered his mouth.

India did not want to watch him so openly or greedily. She recognized that her need to do so made her the vulnerable one. Knowing this did not make her strong enough to avert her eyes. His lips were damp with the apple's juice, and she simply stared at them as they parted around a second bite. It was only when he paused midbite, looking at her over the apple's polished horizon, that embarrassment made her eyes dart away.

India said the first thing that came to her mind, or at least the first thing that would not embarrass her further. "Tell me about Ambermede. Is it yours?"

"No. It belongs to a friend."

"The Marquess of Eastlyn?" she asked. "The one who has the box at the theatre?"

"No. Not that friend."

"Then your friend Lord Northam? He was with you that first night also, wasn't he?"

South nodded. "You've made inquiries."

"If it pleases you to think so." India was not willing to tell him who had come forward eagerly to fill her ears with particulars about South and his friends.

"It belongs to Mr. Marchman," he said after a moment. "The one we call West." He stayed her next question by taking another bite of his apple; then he went on. "Now you will want to know why. People who are not acquainted with Marchman generally do. The fact is, we do not satisfy their curiosity on this account, as it is his place to do so."

"I see. You are right, of course."

"However, exceptions are made." He laughed at her reproachful look. She appeared to be a novice at being teased, having the knowledge neither of how to accept or initiate it. It made South suspect she had grown up without the benefit of brothers or sisters, who would have certainly filled that void. "Among the ton they tend to believe it has to do with the fact there is already a North., East, and South. They assumeincorrectliy , as ithappensthat Marchman is West by default. In point of fact, the idea for it all came from Marchman, and it had its conception when we were still quite directionless at Hambrick Hall."

India listened attentively, taking small bites from her bread as she did so. It seemed that Margrave had not told her falsely about Hambrick Hall, and it surprised her that he would have been forthcoming.

South's head tilted to the side as he continued his reminiscence. "Marchman had this notion everyone we knew could lay claim to some title if only those with a better claim were to die first. To prove his point he showed us how in the right circumstances of luckor misfortunewe could come by titles ourselves. I was not yet known as South. My father was the younger son of an earl and not in expectation of inheriting the title. I was simply Mr. Forrester in those very early days."

India regarded him questioningly.

"Matthew," South said. "Matthew Forrester."

A faint smile touched her lips as she let the name settle in her mind. She did not try to speak it aloud. "Go on," she said instead.

"But Marchman's argument was compelling," South told her. "Indeed, if my father's older brother were to die, and he being without sons of his own, and entailment being what it is, then my father stood to inherit the lands and title. As the only son of my father, I would acquire the dubious distinction of being the Viscount Southerton. Such was also the case with Northam. He came into his title much later than I did, years after we left Hambrick Hall, while he was serving with the colonel. Marchman showed us that Eastlyn stood to inherit in some distant fashion as well. When we realized there was also the odd connection of North, East, and South to our names, we took to calling each other by them. Marchman had already worked it out, of course. Said we were the Compass Club."

"But what about Mr. Marchman?" asked India.

Southerton grinned. "Marchman stood closer to a title."

A small crease appeared between India's brows. "You like to present a puzzle, I think. Wait. I shall work it out." In moments she did. Her face was cleared instantly of its contemplative lines. "Your friend Mr. Marchman is the elder son of a" She paused while she considered the possibility of rank among the peerage. "A viscount? An earl?"

"A duke," South told her.

"A duke," she repeated. "I see. And as the elder son he would naturally have had a lesser title, even at the time you knew him at Hambrick. If he did notand it appears that is sothen it can only be because he is the illegitimate offspring of a duke."

"That is just the case."

"It must have been difficult for him," she said quietly.

South watched India's eyes shutter, her countenance grow expressionless. He wondered if she knew how much she revealed when she revealed nothing at all. He was beginning to understand these moments of withdrawal, the reflective silences. "Why do you think so?"