Regency Rakes 02 - Rescued By A Viscount (14 page)

It was as the carriage began to slow that he opened his eyes and looked straight at her. He gave her a slow, sleepy smile and then stretched like a large cat.

“I appear to have slept the journey away, madam. I do beg your pardon for being such a terrible traveling companion.”

His voice was deep and husky from lack of use and ran like heated honey down her spine. “Do you always sleep so deeply?” Claire questioned before she could stop herself.

“I believe so. Sleeping has always been one thing I truly excel at.”

“How lucky you are.” Claire kept her features calm as he gave her a searching look.

“Did you sleep?”

“Of course,” she lied.

He slid forward on the seat, trapping her between his legs again, and then grabbed her chin as she tried to look away from him.

“Why did you not sleep?” he said, studying her face, “when you so obviously needed it?”

“I-I do not sleep well in carriages.”

He was so close, she could see a small brown freckle just above his right eye. She’d never seen it before, and for some reason, it made her stomach flutter.

“You also do not lie very well, Miss Belmont.”

“I– What do you mean? I’m not lying.”

“Of course you are, and you’re atrocious at it, but the question of why you do not sleep can wait for another day. Right now, I shall tell my driver to stop somewhere quiet so we may eat and stretch our legs.

Minutes later, the carriage stopped, and she was pleased to step down and stretch her legs. They were beside a narrow, winding stream that was flanked by plenty of soft grass and shaded trees.

“Should we not press on, Simon? I fear we won’t reach our destination by nightfall.”

“As you have no idea where that destination is, how do you know how far away it lies?”

Claire huffed out a breath and placed her hands on her hips.

“I have promised you we will reach our destination by the time you wish to. The rest, I’m afraid you will have to leave up to me and my coachmen, Merlin and Ben. Now,” he added, reaching for the basket and blanket, “a few minutes to stretch our legs and fill our stomachs will not delay us overly.”

She trailed behind him as his long legs carried them towards the stream, where he placed a blanket beneath the shady branches of a tree and a large basket beside it.

“Simon, when I have the child, will you let me find my own way back to London, please?” Claire had not meant to say the words so quickly; she had wanted to speak slowly, in a calm, rational manner. Standing nervously at the edge of the blanket, she looked down at him, now sprawled on most of it. So much had changed between them since this morning, and she wasn’t sure how to cope with those changes.

“Be quiet and sit, Claire, for pity’s sake. How am I to eat with you trying to ruin my digestion?”

“I can hardly believe any of this is happening, Simon, but most of all, I cannot believe I have coerced you into my mess. It was very wrong of me, and I want you to leave.”

“What, now? Have you no heart, woman? I’m hungry, and it is grossly unfair of you to send me on my way in this state. Plus, if I left you here alone, you would suffer an uncomfortable night on the cold ground.” He was smiling as he teased her.

“This is not a laughing matter, Simon. I have no wish for you to suffer because of my problems.”

He moved quickly. One of his hands caught hers, and he pulled her down towards him, catching her as she tumbled. He then sat her on the blanket as one would a doll. She tried to clench her fingers to stop him from removing her gloves, but soon he had them off and had handed her a piece of bread onto which he’d slapped a thick slice of ham. “Eat.”

“No one has ever handled me like that before,” she said, stunned, yet still sitting as he had placed her.

“Perhaps if they had, you would not be so contained.”

“I’m not contained!”

Simon simply gave her a steady look before saying, “Eat,” once more.

Claire ate because, strangely, she was hungry. For days she had nibbled at her meals, yet now she suddenly found herself ravenous. As soon as she finished whatever he had thrust at her, he would hand her something else, and she continued to eat until she could not force down another morsel.

“I was hungry,” she said, stating the obvious.

“So you were.”

“Simon, we must talk.”

“No, Claire, we mustn’t. Now start folding the blanket so we can leave, as there is still some distance to cover before reaching our lodgings for the night.”

Claire did as he asked and then followed him back to the carriage. Once there, he re-opened the hamper and gave his drivers some food, and soon, they were once again on their way. She would talk to him when they reached their lodgings. She would be calm and decisive. She would set out her case, and he would see reason and leave. Strangely, the thought of him leaving filled her with unease. Something about knowing Simon was with her made the entire journey and what she must do seem easier.

“Your coachman has an unusual name, Simon.”

“Yes. Ben is an extremely unusual name.”

“You know very well I mean Merlin.”

“Ah, Merlin. Yes, an odd name for a difficult man, Claire, who, of late, has been something of a trial to me.”

“What did he do?”

“My scullery maid is with child, and it appears he is the father.”

“Oh dear, that is quite a difficult situation. What will you do?” Her question was one of genuine concern. Simon was pleased that she cared for the plight of his servants…which was foolish, if he thought about it. Why did her opinion matter to him so much?
“What would you do?” He was curious to know if she would have done the same as he had.

“I would ask both if they wanted to marry each other, then help them to do so.” She said the words instantly, taking no time to think, and as they echoed his own, he could find no fault in them.

“Merlin is to marry Jilly as soon as it can be arranged, as he has assured me he cares for her and she for him. I will also help to secure them a house to live in once they are married if they need my assistance.”

Her look was one of surprise. She had obviously not thought he would handle the matter as he had. “Did you think I would throw her out of my house, Claire?”

She shook her head. “No, of course not. I knew you would be fair. However, I did not realize you would be so generous.”

He gave her a steady look. “You do not have a very high opinion of noblemen, Miss Belmont—more specifically, me.”

“I’m sorry. I did not mean to be disrespectful, Simon. Forgive me. I am just not myself.”

“Perhaps you will be more yourself, Claire, if you close your eyes,” he added after she tried to hide a large yawn behind one hand. “I will wake you if need be.”

She did as he asked and leaned her head back on the seat. However she did not sleep; he could tell by her breathing and the way her body did not relax into slumber. Her hands, too, remained clenched in her lap. Tension was clear in every line of her body. He could not blame her, after all what she was about to do would change her life in many ways. Even if there was no child.

Simon watched her as he thought about the next few days. They would spend tonight alone in a house with no servants, and the days after that would be spent in accommodation used by many. He would need to protect her as best he could, and he hoped they encountered no one who knew them. Perhaps he should say they were related or married? If they were discovered, she would be ruined beyond repair. Her reputation would be blackened, and even her dearest friends, the duke and duchess, could do nothing to salvage it.

Night had fallen as finally, the carriage rolled to a stop. He opened the door, stepped down onto the cobbled driveway, and held out his hand. Claire’s fingers felt soft in his. Her gloves were tucked into his pocket, and he held them firm as he led her towards the house.

“It looks a lovely little cottage, Simon,” she said, looking at the façade before them.

“Yes, it has a charm of its own.”

He led her to the front steps and told her to wait whilst he found the key, which was placed under a pot around the side of the house. Returning, he opened the door and then urged her inside.

“Where shall Merlin and Ben sleep?”

“In the stables, Claire. There is a comfortable loft that will suit them both. Now find some candles whilst I collect our luggage.”

It did not take him long to organize his coach and horses and ensure his drivers were comfortable before carrying their bags into the cottage.

She was not where he’d left her. Dropping the luggage, he walked through the kitchen and found Claire in a small parlor. She had lit several candles and was walking around the shelves studying book titles.

“The owner is an avid gardener, Simon, if these books are any indication.”

“He is.”

“I sometimes wish I could live at a place like this.” She sounded wistful as she turned slowly, taking in the pale walls and soft rugs scattered on the floor. It was a special place to Simon, the first home he had thought of as his own. This was where he ran when he needed solitude or a place to think. It was small, consisting of two rooms upstairs and three down. It was simple and decorated for comfort rather than style, and he loved every inch of it.

“You want to live in a house with five rooms?” He watched as she pressed her face to the small paned windows, which he knew led to a garden filled with the sweet scent of a hundred blooms and enough color to make even Miss Bugs happy.

“Sometimes I wish to escape, Simon, if only for a day.”

“Why don’t you?”

Her laugh held no humor. “How like a man with no restrictions to suggest such a thing.” Moving back to the bookshelf, she skimmed her fingers slowly along the spines as she walked. “I cannot even leave my house alone to shop for a new bonnet without someone demanding to know where I have been and why. Were I to simply climb on my horse and leave London, my mother’s heart would give out, and my brother would lock me in my room for days.”

“I can see how that could be a deterrent,” Simon said, moving to lean against the wall. “However I, too, have crosses to bear.”

“Do tell, my lord, of these crosses you bear,” she said, stopping to stare at him. The distance between them was not great, and he could see she was nervous, being here alone with him. She was a young woman who had never done anything but follow the rules, and now she was breaking them in a spectacular fashion.

“I, as an eligible bachelor with healthy teeth and a full purse, am a hunted species.” Ignoring her scoffing sounds, he continued. “I am tittered at, called upon to pick up gloves and handkerchiefs, and must listen while mothers extol their daughters’ virtues until I want to gnash my teeth.”

“Oh please, you cannot expect me to believe the adoration you receive nightly is not welcome, Lord Kelkirk.”

She was beautiful in candlelight, the flicker casting her skin and hair golden. Somehow here in his home, she appeared approachable and imminently more touchable.

“From some it is welcome,” he said slowly, “however, when Lady Pepper pretends to trip and land on me, it is not. That woman could flatten an entire cavalry of the King’s Dragoon Guards.” Her smile was like a light appearing at the end of a tunnel. Seeing her unsettled and hurt today had affected him, but that brief flash of teeth made him feel lighter. “Besides, I had you most evenings to un-stroke my ego, Miss Belmont.”

The smile fell from her lips.

“Claire, I’m joking with you. I enjoy our conversational battles.”

Her smile was tentative. “Wh-where shall I sleep, as I would like to retire now, please?”

Pushing off the wall, he reached for her bags. “There are two rooms upstairs, both off the hallway. You shall take the one on the right. There is bedding in the hall cupboard.”

Hesitating briefly, Simon watched her as she bobbed a little curtsey and then hurried off in the direction he had indicated. He collected her bags and followed.

The cupboard stood open, and she was inside pulling out several items when he reached her.

“Do you need help with your bed, Simon?”
“I can make my own bed, Claire, but thank you for the offer.” Simon opened the door to her room and took her bags inside.

“Can you really?”

“Yes I can, really.”

“I apologize if I sound sceptical, Simon. I just have never thought of you as a man who can do chores such as making a bed. I do not know many noblemen who could.”

“I had wondered when she would make a reappearance,” Simon said, watching as she pulled the cover back on her bed and started to make it.

“Who?”

“The woman who challenges me in London. I have seen very little of her today, and I’m glad she still lurks inside you.”

“I am not being challenging, Simon. I was merely stating a fact.”

“That you believe all noblemen cannot make beds,” he said, admiring the shape of her bottom as she bent to tuck in the sheet.

“I do not deliberately challenge you.”

“Never tell me you were born with that sharp tongue?”