Innocent in the Regency Ballroom: Miss Winthorpe's Elopement / Dangerous Lord, Innocent Governess

‘Manor?’

He was still looking at her as though she were an idiot. ‘My home. I have a hunting lodge near Scotland, as well. I was visiting there when you found me. But there is no reason for you to see it at this time or ever, if you have no interest.’

‘A manor,’ she repeated.

His expression had grown somewhat bemused. ‘And where did you think I lived, madam? Under a bridge?’

‘I did not think on it. At all.’ And now she looked foolish. It annoyed her even more that she probably was. She had acted in a fit of temper, without considering the consequences.

‘So you truly gave no thought to my title.’ There was still a touch of amazement in the statement, as though he found the fact hard to comprehend, even after two days’ trying. ‘The peerage has both responsibilities as well as advantages. A title such as mine comes with a reward of land. In many years, it is a gift, but in some, it is a burden. In either case, I cannot simply walk away from it to indulge a whim.’

‘A burden?’

‘A recent fire has left portions of the manor house unlivable. Repairs are in effect, even as we speak. Expensive repairs,’ he added significantly.

She nodded, understanding his most specific request for funds.

‘Most of the house is livable, but I have business to complete in town. And so we will remain for a time in London, and reside in the townhouse. You will find space ample for your needs, I assure you.’

‘That is good to know.’ She was not at all sure that it was, but there was little she could do to change it.

‘We will go to your bank as soon as you wish. You will introduce me as your new husband, and I shall need to make it clear to my solicitors that I have taken a wife. I doubt we can escape without the marriage becoming an on dit, for it is rather irregular.’

And there was another thing to worry about. She had not taken into account that his social life would be disrupted by the sudden marriage. No wonder he seemed cross. For her part, the idea was more than a little disturbing.

He continued. ‘As soon as is possible, we shall retire to the country. We will take your books, of course. Have no fear of that. I doubt anyone shall wonder very much about us, once we are out of the public eye. I will need to return for Parliament, next session. But whether you choose to accompany me is your own affair.’

She searched his plan for flaws and found none. After the initial shock of it wore off, of course. She had expected to choose her own dwelling, and that her circumstances might diminish after leaving her brother’s home. Why did she need a large house when a smaller one would suit her needs? But a manor …

‘Did you have a better solution?’ There was a touch of acid in the tone, but it was said mildly enough, considering.

He had taken pains to assure her that she would not lose her books. The least she could do was attempt to be co-operative. ‘No. No. That is most satisfactory.’

‘Satisfactory.’ His mouth quirked. ‘My holdings are not so rich as some, but I assure you that you will find them much more than satisfactory, once the improvements have been made.’

‘Of course.’

Silence fell again. She looked down at her hands and out at the passing countryside, trying to appear comfortable. So, she was to be lady of a manor in the country. What part of the country? She had forgotten to ask. It would make her appear even more ignorant, if she waited until they were packed and driving toward it, to inquire.

Of course, once she was back in London, it would be easy enough to find the information, without having to ask her husband.

Unless her failure to ask made her appear uninterested in her new spouse …

It was all becoming very confusing.

He cleared his throat. ‘This brother of yours. Is he a printer as well?’ There was a pause. ‘Because the servant mentioned that your father had been. And I thought, perhaps, family business …’ He trailed off, displaying none of the eloquence that she had expected from him. Apparently, he was as uncomfortable in his ignorance as she was with hers.

She smiled and looked back at him. ‘Yes. It is a family business. My father loved it dearly, and the books as well. And reading them, of course. He and Mother named us from the classics. My brother’s name is Hector. Father always said that education was a great equaliser.’

‘It is fortunate that a lack of education does not work in the same way. I was sent down from Oxford. It has had little effect on my status.’

They fell silent, again. She longed to ask why he had been forced to leave Oxford, but did not wish to seem impertinent. Was he like her brother had been, unimpressed by her desire for scholarship?

If so, he was biding his time before making the fact known. He’d had ample opportunity in the last few days to point out her foolishness over the translation. But he had said nothing yet.

‘Marriage is also a great equaliser,’ he said, to no one in particular.

Did he mean to refer to her sudden rise in society? If so, it was most unfair of him. She looked at him sharply. ‘Apparently so. For once we reach the bank, your fortune shall be the equal of mine.’

She noted the flash of surprise in his eyes, as though she had struck him. And she waited with some trepidation for the response.

Then his face cleared, and he laughed. And suddenly she was sharing the carriage with the man she thought she had married. ‘Touché. I expect I will hear similar sentiments once my friends get wind of our happy union, but I had not expected to hear them from my own wife. I recommend, madam, that you save some of that sharp tongue to respond to those that wish to offer you false compliments on your most fortunate marriage.’

People would talk.

Well, of course they would. Why had she not realised the fact? And they would talk in a way that they never would have had she married the drunken nobody she was seeking. She was a duchess.

She would be noticed. And people would laugh.

A hand touched her, and she jumped, and realised that she had forgotten she was not alone in the carriage. She looked up into the face of her new husband, and read the concern on his face.

‘Are you all right?’ He said it very deliberately, as though he expected her to misunderstand. ‘For a moment, you looked quite ill.’

‘It is nothing. We have been travelling for some time, and the trip …’ She let her words drift away, allowing him to make what he would of them.

‘Shall I tell the driver to stop?’

‘No, really. I will be fine.’

‘Perhaps if we switch seats—a change of direction might help.’ He took her hands and pulled her up off her bench, rising and pivoting gracefully in the tight space of the rocking carriage, to take her place and give her his. Then he pulled the shade on the window so that the moving scenery did not addle her gaze.

‘Thank you.’ She did still feel somewhat faint at the realisation of what she had done by marrying, and the impact it might have on the rest of her life. The distant and strange idea occurred to her that her husband was being most helpful and understanding about the whole thing. And that it might be nice to sit beside him, and rest her head against his shoulder for a time, until the world stopped spinning around her.

Which was a ludicrous idea. He was solicitous, but he had done nothing to make her think she was welcome to climb into his coat pocket. She looked at him again, even more beautiful in his concern for her, and closed her eyes against the realisation that they were a ridiculous study in contrast. A casual observer could not help but comment on it.

If he noticed the clamminess of her hand, which he still held, he did not comment, but reached out with his other hand as well, to rub some warmth back into the fingers. ‘We will be in the city soon. You will feel much better, I am sure, once we have had some refreshment and a change of clothes.’

She certainly hoped so, for she doubted that she could feel any worse.

Chapter Five

When she opened her eyes a while later, the carriage was pulling up in front of a row of fine houses, and he tapped on the door, waiting for the servants to open it and put down the step. Then he descended and offered his hand to her. ‘My dear?’

She reached out nervously to take it, while her mind raced to argue that she was in no way dear to him. The endearment was both inaccurate and unnecessary.

He saw the look in her eyes, and said, before she could speak, ‘It might go easier with the servants if we maintain a pretence of familiarity. They will obey you, in any case. They would be foolish not to. But all the same …’

She nodded. ‘Thank you, Adam.’ There. She had said his name.