Page 111 of The Scoundrel's Daughter
“Yes, but there are other things to consider,” he said vaguely.
“What things?”
“People. My grandmother for a start.”
She stared at him, puzzled. “What does your grandmother have to do with it?”
“She’s very much looking forward to our visit tomorrow. I’d hate to disappoint her.”
“But she doesn’t even know me. And won’t she be even more disappointed if we break off the betrothal after the visit?”
“She’s expecting us. And if you don’t come with me,” he added in a burst of inspiration, “Alice won’t be able to go and stay with her friend—and you know how she hates to let people down. As a betrothed couple, with a maid in attendance, you and I can travel quite respectably, but if we were no longer betrothed, it would be quite scandalous.”
She eyed him with a doubtful expression. “Really?”
“Yes,” he said firmly. “By staying betrothed, we can make both my grandmother and Alice happy, and nobody will be put out or disappointed.”
“I suppose,” she agreed reluctantly.
He gave her a quizzical look. “Are you so keen to get rid of me?”
She gave a halfhearted laugh. “It’s not that, it’s just that— Oh, my father has embroiled us all in this dreadful tangle, and I can see no way out except to cut right through it and leave everyone free and clear.” Her lovely eyes were troubled. “I am truly grateful, Lord Thornton, for your—”
“What?” He staggered back as if in shock.
She put a concerned hand on his arm. “What is it? Are you ill?”
“You called me Lord Thornton.” And then when she didn’t respond, he added, “Not Lord Thorncrake or Lord Thorndyke or Lord Thornbottle.”
She looked self-conscious. “Oh. Yes. Well, I’m sorry about that.”
He fixed her with a gimlet look. “Who are you and what have you done with Lucy Bamber?”
She laughed, a genuine one this time.
“That’s better,” he said. “I don’t like seeing you all crushed and guilty. None of this mess is your fault, and your father is gone, so let us put it all behind us.” Before she could argue the case, he hurried on. “Now, I plan to collect you at half past eight tomorrow morning. It’s not too early for you, is it? It will take us most of the day to reach my grandmother’s.”
“It’s not too early,” she said. “But I still don’t like the thought of getting her hopes up.”
“Let me worry about that,” he told her.
***
Lucy ate a hearty breakfast. Alice had toyed with a piece of toast but hadn’t been able to bring herself to eat more than a mouthful. She was too tense.
She waved off Lucy and Mary shortly after half past eight. It was a rather grand affair. The smart travelingcarriage had the Charlton coat of arms on the door and was pulled by a team of four fine horses. The driver wore livery, as did the footman traveling at the rear. Gerald accompanied them on horseback.
As they turned the corner and disappeared from sight, butterflies started up in Alice’s stomach. James would be here in half an hour. She was all packed, but was she ready for what was to come? She had no idea.
James arrived twenty minutes later in a yellow bounder—a hired post chaise pulled by two horses. A postilion rode one of the horses.
“We’re not going far,” he explained, “and this is more private. No grooms or drivers to worry about or eavesdrop, no horses to stable.”
Alice nodded. She couldn’t even think about grooms or horses. But privacy she could appreciate. She could still hardly believe she was going to do this, even less that it was at her suggestion.
James put her valise into the boot at the back and helped her into the chaise. She’d never been in one of these conveyances before, and when he climbed in after her, it suddenly felt very small. Their bodies touched all down one side. His body felt so warm. She herself felt cold. Nerves.
They set off, and she distracted herself by looking out the window that covered the whole front of the chaise and pointing out various sights of possible interest. She feared she was babbling, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.
