Page 62 of The Shadow of Breninsol
“Would you like to get in and we can have a more private discussion?” He tilted his head, amused at her expense, and lazily patted the seat next to him.
“No, I would not! I’m not going anywhere withyou,” she seethed.
“I’m afraid your…employer would disagree.” The infuriating man inclined his head to the front door of The Ladies Grace, where Madam Grace was standing on the steps watching Eleanor under a hard glare.
That expression was very familiar to her. One that saidyou will do as you’re told, or your life won’t be worth living. Although she didn’t care for living much, but she would do what was necessary to maintain access to alcohol and a dry bed.
“Clearly, it’s not up for discussion,” he said, flashing her those annoyingly perfect white teeth of his.
“Prick,” she hissed, then raised her voice with as much indignation as she could manage. “Fine.”
Eleanor got into the carriage, ignoring the second folded step, and went to sit on the padded bench opposite him. But, as the door snicked shut, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to sit where he’d been patting the cushioned seat next to him, and tutted.
“What do you—” Eleanor exclaimed.
“I think you’ll find it more comfortable here, darling.” He rapped his cane on the roof for the carriage to move.
Against her better judgement, she stayed sitting but folded her arms so as not to stab him. The seat was incredibly thick andcomfortable. If Eleanor wasn’t careful, she could sink back and allow the rocking of the carriage to lull her to sleep.
The carriage interior was much like its exterior. Silken soft night-blue fabrics trimmed in silver, and what she thought was his crest covering the padded door panels. It had some sort of large bird taking pride of place. The silk curtains were tied back, but they could cover the eight windows for privacy. Even the handholds were made from swirling silver fabric. The carriage was as decadent as the man sitting beside her.
“You’ve dragged me out of bed at this stupidly early hour, to take a trip where?”
Being this close to him, she could make out the true colour of his eyes. They weren’t dark as she’d first thought. They were a blue-grey. The colour of an ocean before a squall, that she could all too easily drown in.
Eleanor swallowed and pushed down those feelings. Feelings that she had no right to feel and held onto her irritation as best she could.
Though his face was bored, amusement gleamed in his brightening eyes. “I was taking the trip and thought you might like to get away.”
“How considerate of you,” she replied dryly. “And just like that, you get to steal me for a day?”
“I wouldn’t call this stealing you. You make me sound like a thief stealing a prized jewel.”
“No? What would you call it then?”
“Fulfilling your end of our bargain,” he replied with that annoying lip curl, again looking much too pleased with himself.
“And, I’m guessing as Madam Grace was more than happy to let me go, you’ve paid?”
His eyes seemed to become more severe with a glint of steel in them. “We’ve come to an agreement. Once we’re done, you can return to your…home.”
She scoffed at the last word:home. Was he really that naïve to believe that place was her home? She refused to remember what that felt like. She didn’t deserve such a thing.
“And what is it you want from me?” She steeled herself for him to outline some deep depraved secret of his that he could only do outside the confines of the court. That was just what she needed, for him to have a secret sex fetish.
“I already told you; time,” he replied simply, as if she was the idiot that didn’t already understand what he wanted.
She studied him, waiting for him to say more or to show her a glimpse of something darker, but neither happened. Instead, she found her eyes were tracing his profile as the flush of morning light peeked through the carriage window. She followed the straight line of his aristocrat nose that sloped upwards to his perfectly arched black brows. She found herself drawn to his blue-grey eyes, framed by his brows, and could easily stare at those cool orbs for hours to map any emotion he might let her see.
“My time? That’s it? Why?” she queried in disbelief. “You have the pick of all the fine ladies in court. All you have to do is click your fingers, and you’d have all of them willingly offer themselves to you.”
Again, his reaction was unreadable. “I don’t doubt that, but you were the one who lost at cards.”
Letting out a huff of breath, Eleanor turned her attention to the streets they were passing. She’d barely registered where the carriage was taking them, but she’d known from the initial direction they weren’t leaving Breninsol. Nor were they going deeper into the Barrow, which meant they’d be going somewhere suitable for his rich clothes.
Eleanor could annoyingly appreciate that he knew how to dress. Every time she’d seen him, he’d worn beautiful clothing in rich colours that complimented him and today was no exception.His indigo velvet long-coat hit his knees, with its silver thread weaving swirling patterns along the buttons. His black leather gloves looked so soft; they could be fur-lined for even more warmth. She refused to contemplate alternative explanations for his attire beyond warding off the chill. His hat was adorned with indigo and grey feathers, and he tucked a silk grey neckcloth into his matching waistcoat.
Eleanor clenched her fists around her cloak to stop herself from reaching out to know how soft his long-coat would feel under her fingertips.
