In Pursuit of Eliza Cynster (42 page)

Now he could fall asleep.

And he did.

wo mornings later, Jeremy stood amid a chaos of carriages, horses, footmen, and grooms, with friends and close acquaintances clapping him on the back and wishing him well, and scented ladies he’d known and largely avoided for years patting him on the cheek and stating their expectation of seeing him soon in London, as the bulk of those who’d gathered at Wolverstone prepared to depart.

He didn’t know which deity to thank for prompting the general exodus, but he was immeasurably grateful.

Hugo, Cobby, and Meggin were the first to actually leave; they would drive back to Edinburgh in Hugo’s curricle. Cobby had driven Jeremy’s curricle down, and Jasper was now eating his head off in Royce’s stable.

“I say,” Cobby said. “I took a quick gander at your notes on Wolverstone’s Sumerian tome. Fabulously exciting! Don’t forget to send me a copy of the paper when you present it to The Royal Society.”

When Jeremy looked blank, Cobby frowned. “You are going to present your findings, aren’t you?”

Jeremy blinked. “Ah, yes.” It had taken long minutes to remember the fantastic find he’d uncovered. “Of course — I’ll send you a copy once it’s done.” Eventually.

The realization that, from the moment he’d turned his curricle north in pursuit of Eliza, he hadn’t once thought of the critical text he’d discovered struck him as epitomizing how much he’d changed. Even now, while matters between him and Eliza remained unresolved, he felt no inclination to spare time for his notes.

Hiding that frankly shocking discovery behind an easy smile, he shook hands with Cobby, clapped his friend on the back, then let him go and turned to farewell Meggin.

“Take care.” Meggin stretched up to kiss his cheek. Drawing back, she searched his eyes. “And be sure to bring Eliza up for a visit when this is all over.”

That “this” hovered over him, and over Eliza, too. He nodded. “I will.”

Eliza chose that moment to join them. Meggin turned, and she and Eliza embraced warmly.

“Thank you so much for all your help,” Eliza said.

Meggin laughed and repeated her invitation.

Eliza’s face lit. “Of course we’ll come.” Then she turned to Cobby and Hugo, wishing them well and laughing at something Hugo said.

Jeremy watched her. Her acceptance of Meggin’s invitation had been genuine, sincere; her interaction with his friends pleased and reassured him.

Although she’d spent the last two nights sleeping alongside him, ensuring he, too, got a good night’s rest, on both mornings when he’d woken, she’d already gone. And courtesy of the small army that until now had inhabited the castle, he and she had had not a moment alone in which to exchange opinions on anything. Consequently, he had no idea what she now thought, was thinking, about him, about them, about their necessarily joint future, not now that they’d returned to their customary world.

What he was in no doubt about was how all those present, barring only Cobby, Hugo, and Meggin — climbing into Hugo’s curricle even as he pondered — saw him. And therefore how they saw the looming connection-that-had-to-be between him and Eliza.

Her elder brother, Gabriel, was only the latest to reinforce that view.

After standing beside Jeremy and waving Hugo, Cobby, and Meggin away, Eliza was hailed by Breckenridge; she hurried off to speak with her sisters, whom Breckenridge was escorting back to town. Leaving the space at Jeremy’s shoulder to be filled by her brother.

“I wanted to thank you for saving her.” There was no doubting the sincerity in Gabriel’s deep voice. “Your plan to get her back here within one day was a good one, and with either Heather or Angelica it would have worked, but I know it was Eliza’s lack of riding skills that skittled the plan. It wasn’t your fault you and she spent days getting to safety. Indeed”— Gabriel’s lean lips curved —“for someone who spends his days with his nose buried in dusty books, you did exceedingly well avoiding all the dangers and getting past the hurdles to get her safely here. But the wider outcome wasn’t any part of your plan, and no fault of yours, yet you’ve made it plain enough you’re willing to accept it, and for that I — and the rest of us, too — honor you.”

Jeremy didn’t want them to honor him in that way, yet he could hardly protest that there was no need, that his willingness to save Eliza in the wider sense wasn’t primarily driven by any sense of obligation, not when he didn’t know what Eliza was now thinking. Whether, now they were back in society’s fold, she wished to cast their upcoming union in an obligatory light. His gaze on her as she chatted with Heather and Angelica, he replied, “I …” Sliding his hands into his pockets, he lightly shrugged. “It’s the right thing to do, for both of us.”

That, at least, was true.

Gabriel inclined his head. “Regardless.” He held out his hand. “Call on us for anything you need.”

“Thank you.” Jeremy shook Gabriel’s hand, then smiled at Alathea as she joined them.

The farewells continued. Jeremy had much the same conversation with Devil as he’d had with Gabriel, with much the same result. Having to skirt the question of just what the true relationship between him and Eliza was — having to let Devil, Honoria, Helena, Lady Osbaldestone, and all the rest leave with the clear impression that the union everyone had been careful not to directly mention would be one based on honor and driven by a need to preserve Eliza’s reputation … allowing that view to remain unchallenged literally grated on his nerves.

They felt rubbed raw by the time he’d waved away the carriage conveying Christian, Letitia, Delborough, and Deliah back to Lincolnshire.

Yet he had to admit to feeling grateful that so many had come in support of him as well as Eliza. On receiving the message he’d sent from Edinburgh, Royce had sent riders to Leonora and Tristan in Surrey, and to Eliza’s parents in London. Gabriel and Alathea had come north with Lord Martin and Lady Celia. Devil and Honoria had driven up, too; as Helena had been staying with them at the time, she, too, had come. Leonora and Tristan had broken the long journey north at Dearne Abbey, and found Delborough and Deliah visiting there, along with Lady Osbaldestone. Not knowing what the state of affairs might be north of the border, Christian and Letitia and Delborough and Deliah had joined Tristan and Leonora, and Lady Osbaldestone had, of course, come too.

Lady Osbaldestone had elected to return to London with Helena in Devil and Honoria’s carriage; it followed Christian’s down the drive. Gabriel and Alathea had already set out for London.

On the other side of the forecourt, Eliza had had more than enough of being lectured by her sisters. She hugged Heather, who then allowed Breckenridge to hand her up the carriage steps. On the top step, Heather turned and fixed Eliza with an admonitory look. “Remember, hold firm. You know what you want — so make sure you get it.”

Beside the carriage, Breckenridge rolled his eyes and feigned deafness.

Eliza rolled her eyes, too. “Stop fussing. I know what I’m doing.”

“Yes,” Angelica said, preparing to follow Heather, “but will you stick to it? We all know you’re softer, more malleable, than Heather or me. If you lose heart on this, if you allow yourself to be persuaded to settle for anything less than your dreams, we’ll …” On the top step, Angelica narrowed her eyes to green shards. “Well, I don’t know what we’ll do, but I do know we won’t stand for it. So don’t backslide.”

With that, Eliza’s irritating younger sister turned and disappeared into the carriage.

Leaving Breckenridge to follow.

He grinned ruefully and gave Eliza a light hug. “As your soon-to-be brother-in-law, I would merely add …” He paused, then sighed. “He’s a good man, Eliza. Whatever you work out between yourselves, don’t forget that — or all that he did, all he’s given, to keep you safe.”

She blinked. Carefully hugged Breckenridge back; he was still recovering from the life-threatening wound he’d received while saving Heather. “I know what sort of man he is. I’m not likely to forget.”

He was her hero in more ways than anyone seemed to realize. That not even her sisters seemed to actually understand that felt very like her last straw, but now that the causes of her irritation had largely left, she could draw breath — and rein in her temper before it actually broke loose.

Lady Osbaldestone and her aunt Helena had gone so far as to assure her that being married to a man known for his propensity to bury himself for weeks at a time in his library wouldn’t be that bad; they’d patted her hand and told her she would find plenty of other interests to fill her time.

All of them —
all
— had behaved, and had alluded to Jeremy, as if he was somehow second-rate. As if their marriage would be a second-best, a
not
-best outcome, for them both. At least Heather and Angelica had acknowledged the possibility of another outcome, although neither seemed to have all that much faith that better outcome would come to be. Not if the matter was left in Eliza’s and Jeremy’s hands.

At that moment, Jeremy strolled up. He shook Breckenridge’s hand, squeezed the hands Heather and Angelica held out of the carriage windows. Then Eliza’s parents came up, along with Royce and Minerva. Breckenridge climbed into the carriage; shutting the door after him, Royce signalled the coachman.

With waves and farewells all around, the carriage rumbled off.

And, finally, they were alone.

Or at least surrounded only by those who had a real reason to be there: Eliza’s parents, Leonora and Tristan, and their hosts, Royce and Minerva.

Chatting among themselves, those others all ambled back to the steps, clearly intending to return indoors.

After considering the general retreat, Jeremy glanced at Eliza, still beside him. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

Relief shone in her eyes. “Yes, please. I definitely don’t want to go inside and sit.”

A feeling for which he had a great deal of sympathy. “We can walk to the stream and take the path around the lake.”

She nodded and they headed across the front of the castle, leaving the drive for a well-tended path that led through beds and down the edge of a lawn to the stream.

Taking her hand, he steadied her across the planks of a wooden bridge that arched over the burbling stream. “I’m almost grateful to Scrope for shooting me, given he didn’t do too much damage.” Meeting her eyes as, surprised, she glanced at him, he grinned ruefully. “Thanks to the wound, we’ve been able to claim at least a few days’ grace before making our expected appearance in London.”

Before declaring their engagement and making the necessary plans to wed.

She grimaced. “That’s true.”

“But as they have all consented to give us the time … perhaps we should use it.”

Stepping onto the path that ran along the other side of the stream, she arched her brows. “What did you have in mind?”

He hesitated, then said, “Tell me your favorites — colors, flowers, music — anything on which you have an opinion.”

She laughed, and did, then demanded the same of him.

They traded likes, dislikes, opinions, and views as they strolled toward the lake. Jeremy found the questions, and his answers to hers, coming more easily to his tongue than he’d expected; talking to young ladies had never been his forte, but in this case … this was the lady with whom he would be sharing the remainder of his life; there was no real need to censor his tongue.

What he did need was to learn more about her, even though, to his mind, he already knew the most important things. He knew he liked her laugh, knew that a certain private little smile of hers made him feel like a king. But he paid attention to the answers she gave, his attention wholly locked on her …

Wooing her.

With an odd little start, he realized that was what he was doing. More, that he was doing it deliberately, with intent and passion … because some part of him, that newfound part of him that had emerged over recent days, drawn out from some recess of his soul by the demands of their flight, believed she deserved it. That she deserved so much more than a preordained union.

Once he realized, somewhat to his surprise, he didn’t draw back, but instead went further, set himself to charm and amuse and draw her out. And found he could.

Eyes laughing, she responded openly, without guile. They reached the lake and continued strolling beneath the trailing branches of the willows, taking the path that led away from the house, slowly circumnavigating the lake.

Eliza found herself captivated, her heart captured all over again. Sliding her arm into his, she walked by his side and asked after his uncle Humphrey, asked him to describe the house at Number 14, Montrose Place, where he and his uncle lived. He duly described the house and gardens with the degree of detail she expected from him, but even she detected the one glaring omission. She arched a brow at him. “What about the library?”

He pulled a face, almost a wince. “Actually, it’s libraries. There are two. I converted what used to be the conservatory into a drawing room, and then took over the original drawing room for my own.”

Before he could do violence to his feelings and offer to reverse the conversion — as his somewhat stricken expression suggested he was about to do — she leapt in to ask, “So the new drawing room overlooks the back garden?”