Harlequin Historical September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: The Lone Sheriff\The Gentleman Rogue\Never Trust a Rebel (49 page)

She met his frowning look with a smile and proceeded to fill two glasses. She held one out to him.

‘We made a bad start, Mr Bastion, but I think we should put our differences behind us. After all, we have only each other's company for the next few days. Will you drink a toast with me? To new beginnings.'

‘Trying to bamboozle me, Miss Salforde?'

The look in his eyes dared her to try and she had to resist the temptation to look away.

‘Not at all, but surely the journey would pass much more quickly if we were not at odds with one another. Besides, it behoves me to be on good terms with my guardian.'

* * *

There was no guile in those velvet-brown eyes but Drew was cautious. He was too old and too experienced to be ensnared by a pretty face.

The devil of it was that Elyse Salforde was not just a pretty face. She was intelligent, too. And spirited. A damned attractive package that brought out the rake in him. He had feigned sleep for most of the day to avoid making any more remarks like the one that had slipped out at the start of their journey. It had upset her, and shown him what a dangerous line he was treading. But it now appeared that his attempts to keep the attraction at bay had resulted in her thinking he was angry with her. She was offering to make peace and he could not bring himself to snub her.

‘I agree with you,' he said at last. ‘It will make life much more comfortable for both of us.'

She handed him a glass and raised her own. ‘I hope we can be friends from now on, sir.'

A scratching at the door announced dinner and he escorted Elyse to the little table where they took their places and waited while an array of dishes was spread before them. Drew had to admit that the food was good and the company even better. Elyse had been well educated and conversed easily on any number of subjects. Time passed quickly and he barely noticed the servant coming in to light the candles and build up the fire. He did notice, however, that unlike the previous evening, Elyse was in no hurry to dash off to her bed. When the covers had been removed and they had only their wine and a dish of sweetmeats on the table between them Drew sat back in his chair, smiling.

‘I have enjoyed this evening, Miss Salforde, very much.'

‘And do you still pity my husband?'

He laughed.

‘So that rankled, did it?'

‘Of course.' A rueful smile lit her eyes and hovered on her full lips. ‘No woman likes to be thought unattractive.'

‘I meant merely that your husband will need his wits about him, if you are not to lead him a merry dance.'

She looked down, the dark sweep of her lashes shielding her eyes but he heard the wistful note in her voice when she replied.

‘I will have to learn to be a biddable, conformable wife.'

‘That would be a pity.' Immediately her eyes flew to his face and he added quickly, ‘I am sure it was your liveliness that attracted Reverson in the first place.'

‘Yes, but married ladies have to be much more responsible, do they not? And I mean to be a very good wife to William. I shall give him no cause to regret his choice.'

Her words and the look that accompanied them were very earnest. Drew did not doubt her sincerity but he could not help wondering about Reverson's intentions. From what she had told him he guessed the man was an infrequent correspondent and he could not discover that he had visited his fiancée at all in the past three years. To Drew's mind that did not augur well for their future happiness. But then, what did he know of such matters? He had reached six-and-twenty without ever once finding anyone he wished to marry. The unsettling thought occurred to him that he might have felt differently if he had not spent the past ten years living as an outcast with a price on his head. As such he was in no position to consider taking a wife. And never would be.

Elyse was watching him and Drew shifted in his chair. He had made his choice and he must take the consequences. No regrets. He filled the ensuing silence by recharging their glasses then he picked up his own and held it out.

‘I shall give
you
a toast, now, Miss Salforde. To your future happiness.'

She looked a little surprised by the gesture, but followed his lead and raised her own glass, taking a little sip before placing it carefully back upon the table.

‘Thank you.' She selected a sugared almond. ‘Why did my father appoint you as my guardian?'

He did not reply immediately. What was it Harry had said?

I can rely on you to bring Whittlewood and his boy up to scratch.

‘I suppose he thought you needed a man's protection until you married.'

‘Odd that he should think that now.'

‘It was very natural, since he would no longer be there to protect you.'

‘My father was never there to protect me.'

The words were spoken thoughtfully, no hint of blame, but they made Drew raise his brows.

‘He cared for you a great deal,' he said cautiously.

‘Yes, but he was never
there
. He brought Mama to England soon after I was born and set her up in a little house near Dover, but he could not be still. At first he went off for only a few months at a time, but gradually his journeys became longer until he was only with us for a few weeks of the year. Mama said he was
bougeotte
—restless. She understood him and never complained. She died when I was eight years old and I was put into the care of Aunt Matthews. She was already a widow and I suppose Scarborough was even more difficult to reach than Dover, for I saw even less of Papa after that.'

‘That does not mean he did not think of you,' said Drew. ‘He spoke of you often. His reason for continuing with his way of life was to provide you with an inheritance.'

She gave him a straight look.

‘Perhaps I would have preferred him to provide me with a father.' She bit her lip. ‘I hardly knew him, you see. It could take months to receive a reply to my letters. That is why I wonder at his appointing you.'

‘He thought I could ensure your safety on your journey to your new family.'

A shadow flickered over her face and he heard her sigh.

‘I had hoped that William might come to fetch me, but his last letter did say that his father keeps him very busy.'

‘He writes to you regularly?'

‘Oh, yes... Sometimes.' Again that hesitation, as if she were trying to convince herself. ‘When he first left Scarborough he wrote to me often, but it is more than three years since we last met, so I suppose we have said all there is to say.'

Her unaccustomed air of sadness disturbed him and he said, trying to give her thoughts a happier turn, ‘Tell me about Reverson. Where did you meet him?'

There was no doubt he had said the right thing. She smiled and the soft glow in her eyes winded him, like a blow to the body.

‘At the assembly in Scarborough, just after my seventeenth birthday. Lord and Lady Whittlewood had come to take the waters and William was with them. It coincided with one of Papa's rare visits, which was most fortuitous, because he and Lord Whittlewood agreed the betrothal between them. No one was more surprised than I when William made me an offer. It was like a fairy tale. We had fallen head over heels in love, but I never imagined—' She broke off, blushing. ‘It never occurred to me that the viscount would agree to it, and after so short a time, too, just a couple of months! I am very conscious of my good fortune.'

Good fortune indeed, to be marrying into a noble family. Drew sipped his wine and wondered if he should tell her that the marriage had been arranged in payment of a debt. Looking into Elyse's frank, shyly smiling eyes Drew could not bring himself to do so. But could the young couple be happy, could the pair of them really be in love? They had not seen each other for three years and it seemed unlikely that such a youthful infatuation could last. But perhaps he had grown too cynical. And there was no denying that Elyse Salforde was a most delightful companion. She would make any man a good wife.

‘Now it is your turn.'

Her voice, rich with laughter, captured his attention.

‘I beg your pardon?'

She was regarding him over the rim of her wineglass.

‘So far we have only spoken about me. I am curious to learn about you, Mr Andrew Bastion.'

The ease that had been growing within him withered. What should he tell her, that he was a soldier of fortune? A gambler? A traitor?

Drew was glad to be distracted by the opening of the door. A cheerful-looking maid with rosy cheeks came in and bobbed a curtsy.

‘The master said I was to come and see you, sir, to accompany the young leddy up t'bed.'

He took out his pocket watch.

‘I had not realised it was so late.' He bent a smile upon Elyse. ‘We have another early start tomorrow.'

‘Then I shall retire and save my questions for another night.'

He rose and walked with her to the door where she stopped. Only inches separated them, so close he could see how flawless her creamy skin was, smell the faint scent of summer blossoms that hung about her. He wanted to reach out and loosen her hair, watch it cascade in dark waves down her back. Then he would drive his hands into it and pull her close, breathing in that elusive flowery perfume...

He heard the soft, musical cadence of her voice and he blinked, bringing her face into focus. She was gazing up at him, smiling slightly.

‘I really am very grateful to you, sir, for taking me to William.'

It took a moment for the words to register.

‘Yes, well,' he said gruffly. ‘I hope Reverson appreciates you.'

Chapter Three

A
nother long day's travel followed, but unlike the previous days Elyse found her companion was in a sociable mood. He no longer slept in the corner but engaged her in conversation. The topics were unexceptional, but he was well read and very knowledgeable. Elyse told him something of her life in Scarborough, but while he was happy to describe to her the cities he had visited, he refused to be drawn on his own history. She did not press him, for she did not want to risk damaging their burgeoning friendship.

Their conversation helped to pass the time but the pace was still gruelling. Elyse accepted it stoically, making no complaint at the brevity of the stops, but when her escort handed her down from the carriage late in the afternoon signs of her exhaustion must have been apparent in her face, for he ordered the landlord to show them into a private parlour. Elyse immediately protested, begging him not to prolong their journey for her sake.

‘We are making good time,' he said, leading her into the inn. ‘We can afford to take a little rest here and still reach St Neots this evening. After that it is but fifty miles to London and if the weather holds you will be with Lord Whittlewood by tomorrow night.'

The landlord escorted them to a comfortable room on the first floor and went off, promising to send up refreshments.

‘Do you always travel at this breakneck speed?' asked Elyse, removing her cloak and bonnet. She eyed the cushion-strewn settle but did not sit down, her bones still protesting from the long hours sitting in the carriage.

‘Only when it is necessary.'

She smiled. ‘And you are anxious to be rid of your tiresome burden, is that it?'

‘Do not be putting words into my mouth, Miss Salforde.'

She laughed at that. ‘You could always disclaim and respond with some courteous remark, Mr Bastion.'

‘What would you have me say, that I wish the journey could go on for ever, solely for the pleasure of enjoying your company?'

She saw the humorous quirk to his lips and fluttered her eyelashes, murmuring, ‘That is what many gentlemen of my acquaintance would tell me.'

He smiled and shook his head.

‘Then they are nodcocks,' he said. ‘To subject a lady to the rigours of a journey for any longer than necessary is not the way to win her favour. She would end up tired, cross and extremely bruised.'

A gurgle of laughter escaped her.

‘I should take issue with you for disparaging my admirers in that way, but honesty compels me to agree, sir.' She put one hand on her back and rubbed it. ‘I should not appreciate any gentlemen who prolonged this experience.'

‘Has it been very trying? You have been very brave, enduring it all without a word.'

‘No, no, it has not been so very bad.'

She broke in, flushing at this unexpected praise and moved towards the table as a serving maid entered at that moment with a laden tray. Elyse was surprised and unsettled by his approval and could not quite understand why. After all, other men paid her much more fulsome compliments and she took them in her stride.

The coffee was freshly brewed and Elyse was grateful to have time to appreciate it, and to enjoy a couple of the sweet biscuits that the maid told her the landlady had baked fresh that morning. Feeling much better for the rest she took advantage of the landlady's offer of a private room, where she might wash her face and hands and make use of the mirror to tidy her hair. When she returned the door of their private parlour was open and she could see the serving maid clearing the table. Drew Bastion was still in his seat, leaning back in his chair and idly watching the girl as she gathered the dishes on to a tray. His thoughts were clearly elsewhere and he did not appear to notice that the girl was flaunting herself before him. Elyse could see that the thin white edge of her chemise peeping above her bodice did little to hide her generous bosom as she leaned over to collect the final cup.

‘Is there anythin' else I can do for you, sir?'

There was a blatant invitation in the maid's voice and in every line of her body as she straightened and stood for a moment, hands on hips. Neither of them had seen Elyse in the passage and she broke her stride, waiting for the gentleman's response. He glanced up at the maid, his thoughtful look replaced by a grin and a wicked look. Even from a distance Elyse could feel the power of his charm.

‘No, thank you, Rose. That is all.'

Rose? Elyse blinked. She had only been away for five minutes. How had he discovered the maid's name so quickly? With a cough and a brisk step she carried on into the room. As she entered the maid picked up the tray, dropped a quick curtsy to her, cast a roguish glance towards Drew and went out, humming to herself. Elyse kept her lips firmly closed, torn between irritation that a servant should be so forward and a sneaking admiration at such cool composure.

Drew Bastion rose and pulled out his watch.

‘Are you feeling better now? I think we should be moving on.'

‘Already?'

It felt as if her body had only just recovered from the continual jolting of the carriage and Elyse had to steel herself not to beg for another ten minutes before they resumed their journey. Something of her struggle must have shown in her face, for as he placed her cloak about her shoulders he said,

‘Chin up, my dear. There is not much further to go tonight.'

His gentle words, combined with the feel of his hands resting on her shoulders sent a wave of something she did not understand washing through her, from her head to the tips of her toes. She stood very still, wanting to make some laughing rejoinder but her wits had deserted her. She was all too aware of him standing behind her, could feel his strength enveloping her. She wanted to close her eyes and lean back against him, and she could only be thankful when he moved away to collect his hat and gloves before opening the door.

‘Shall we go?'

Forcing a smile she preceded him out of the inn. She did not look up when he handed her into the chaise and busied herself with arranging her skirts until the door was shut and they were on their way. Then she sank back against the squabs and closed her eyes, taking time to consider just why she was so unsettled by that one small act of courtesy.

She thought back over the moment, remembering the profound comfort of Andrew Bastion's presence. She felt that it was not merely the cloak that he was wrapping around her, but his whole being, warm and dependable. To have someone to lean on, someone taking care of her, was an unfamiliar sensation.

Aunt Matthews was a kind and loving companion, but she had never instilled in Elyse the feeling of security that she now experienced. It was something that had been lacking for most of her life. From the moment Elyse had emerged from the schoolroom she had known that hers was the more forceful character. Aunt Matthews might suggest or advise, but she was happy to allow Elyse to go her own way. In a very short time Elyse had taken charge of the household, organising the menus, discussing budgets and staff changes with the housekeeper and deciding which parties they should attend.

In truth, it had been Elyse's idea not to cancel the soirée when they had been informed of Papa's sudden demise. Elyse had argued that there could be no impropriety in having guests, as long as they provided no entertainment. She had insisted that their friends would want to call and offer their sympathies. She had been right, of course, their drawing room had been full and no one had voiced disapproval until Andrew Bastion had appeared. And the fact that he had found her in the arms of one of her swains had made it very difficult for her to justify the decision.

Elyse had thought him rude and overbearing when he had first arrived, but she had to admit that there was something very pleasant about having someone else take responsibility for her comfort. Her eyes flew open. This would not do. She would not allow anyone to run her life—except her husband, of course. When she was married to William she would naturally love, honour and obey him. A tiny voice in her head whispered that she might not find it easy to acquiesce in all things, but William loved her, so she had no doubt that they would be able to resolve any little disputes quite amicably. After all, she considered herself to be quite an easygoing person and never fell out with anyone.

Except Mr Andrew Bastion. She stole a glance at him. He was staring out of the window, lost in thought. He had a very strong profile, she thought, observing his wide brow, the lean jaw, the set of his lips. Masterful.

She remembered his autocratic behaviour when they had first met. Surely it was not at all surprising that she was annoyed with him when he had appeared from nowhere and began to organise her life? No man had been her master, not since those far-off days as a very young child when Papa had been at home, looking after her and Mama, promising to take care of them for ever. So long ago, now, but no one would replace her papa. No one. Certainly not Andrew Bastion, even though he was her guardian.

She thought back a little wistfully to the past few heady years in Scarborough. She had learned that with a few smiles and pretty words she could wrap the men of her acquaintance around her little finger. She did not see why Andrew Bastion should be any different. She sat up a little straighter, a daring plan forming in her mind. He was already softening towards her; witness his behaviour in the coffee room. Perhaps, with a little more effort, he might become more amenable.

* * *

‘Well, this is it, Miss Salforde. Our final night on the road. Tomorrow we shall be in London.'

Drew picked up his glass and regarded his dining companion over the rim. They were sitting at the dining table in a private parlour of the busy hostelry he had chosen for their last overnight sojourn. The dinner had been excellent, served by the landlady herself with the help of her son who, despite his best attempts, could not prevent himself from staring in silent admiration at Miss Salforde.

Drew had to admit that Elyse looked particularly enchanting. The light from the candles gave a golden sheen to her skin, rivalling the glow of the simple string of pearls she wore around her neck. Her dark hair was piled artlessly about her head with one glossy ringlet hanging down on to her shoulder, where it seemed to direct the eye to the soft mounds of her breasts rising from the neckline of her gown.

They were alone now, the covers had been removed and only the decanter and glasses were left on the table. Drew sipped thoughtfully at his wine. Elyse had obviously taken some care over her dress this evening, leaving off the travelling habit with its high-necked shirt in favour of an open robe of dove-grey silk over a white quilted petticoat. The sleeves of her gown ended in a flurry of silver lace ruffles that fell back to display her shapely arms. Her behaviour throughout dinner had been exemplary and she had treated him with a pretty deference—very much as one would treat an aged uncle, he thought, with an inward grin—but for all that he was on his guard, not quite believing the demure image she was presenting to him.

‘And shall we be in time to call upon Lord Whittlewood tomorrow?' she asked him.

‘I hope so, and I expect him to take you into his establishment immediately. I am happy to find lodgings for myself until everything is signed and sealed, but I am sure he would prefer to have you under his roof.'

She pouted prettily.

‘You are mighty eager to be rid of me, sir.'

‘Not at all, but I feel sure you will find a room in Lord Whittlewood's mansion far more comfortable than anything I can procure for you.'

‘If it is a question of funds—'

‘It is not. The viscount's letter indicated that he wishes to take you into his household at once.'

‘‘But I have money, should I need it?

‘Your father placed your not inconsiderable fortune under my control until Michaelmas,' said Drew. ‘So yes, you have money.'

Elyse nodded and he wondered if it was a comfort to her to know she was not penniless, that she did not need to marry Reverson if she did not want to do so. And why should she not wish to marry him? he thought bitterly. It would give her status and entrée to the highest society. The very things he could not offer. He pushed aside such thoughts to concentrate upon her next remark.

‘You and my father must have been great friends, for him to place so much trust in you.'

‘We were.'

‘Where did you meet?' When he hesitated she put up her hands. ‘Please do not think you need to invent a history for me, Mr Bastion. I am well aware that my father was an adventurer and I promise you will not shock me if you tell me the truth.'

The naïvety of her statement made him smile, yet he decided to tell her as much as he dared.

‘We met three years ago, in Vienna. Harry had just returned from England. We had much in common, a love of freedom and adventure, a penchant for gaming. We struck up a close friendship. I owe your father a great deal, Miss Salforde. When we met I didn't have two groats to rub together. He took me under his wing and we travelled Europe together.'

‘Gambling?'

‘Yes, amongst other things.' He hoped she would not ask him about the other things.

‘You must have been very successful,' she remarked. ‘My father regularly sent money back to England.'

‘We were extremely successful, but always by fair play, and to the best of my knowledge it was always from those who could afford to lose. Harry was very conscious of his responsibilities, too, witness the sizeable sum you have inherited.'

‘And did you, too, manage to put aside a fortune?'

Drew smiled. ‘I am not a pauper, Miss Salforde.'

‘I am relieved to hear it. And how did it end?'

‘In Paris. At the gaming table of a rich nobleman.'

‘So it was not footpads.'

He glanced up, an enquiry in his eyes. Too late did he remember the story he had told her in Scarborough. Elyse gave him a rueful smile.

‘I suspect the French nobleman took exception to your winning.'