Page 23 of A Dangerous Little Scandal

Isadora held herself as straight as possible, but there were times the coach shifted rather violently from the uneven terrain. It was then that she would reach out and grasp something to keep from being thrown into the floor. Most generally, it was that same muscular thigh.

“Pardon me,” she muttered at one point. He didn’t even respond, although she noted that he looked particularly ill at ease.

For the rest of the day, not much changed. Travelers came and went, and she would be thrown against Lord Osgood’s hard length. By the time the coach stopped for luncheon, Isadora was eager to set her feet on solid ground once more.

The marquess led her into a private room at the local inn and she gave a sigh of relief when she was brought a cup of tea. “Oh, this is heavenly.”

He chuckled. “I admit that I’m looking forward to a good meal. My stomach has been protesting the lack of nourishment since an hour into our journey.”

“That soon?” She blinked in surprise. “But I thought you had consumed a hearty breakfast? At least, it was plenty enough to satisfy me.”

“I fear my cravings are a bit larger than yours,” he returned,and suddenly, Isadora had the feeling they were no longer referring to food.

But instead of addressing the double entendre, she merely shifted her gaze away and took another sip of her tea.

By the time their meal was served, the awkward moment appeared to have passed and the marquess was focused on the fare he’d been given.

After they were done eating, it wasn’t long before they were forced to get back on the road. With her stomach quite content, she found that it was getting difficult to keep her eyes open. At one point, her head promptly drooped, but a jerk of the carriage had her sitting upright once more.

“Why don’t you lean against me?” the marquess said next to her.

She shook her head. “Don’t concern yourself. I’m fine.”

“No. You’re being unreasonable. Come on.” He slid his shoulder a bit closer to her. “You need your rest. Besides, I might need to utilize your hospitality later.”

She had to smile. “When you put it that way, how can I refuse such a generous offer?”

Rem’s chesttightened when he looked down and saw the lovely woman sleeping contentedly next to him. Of course, if she woke up and saw that she was quite that comfortable, she would likely move away as swiftly as possible.

He withheld a sigh.

“You seem to care about her very much.”

Rem glanced over at the elderly lady in the seat across from him. She wore a mob cap over hair and had kind, blue eyes. Currently, she was the only other occupant in the coach.

“Is she your wife?”

He smiled. “No.” He cleared his throat, realizing that he wouldhave to employ some excuse for the intimate manner in which they were traveling, so he said, “She’s, er… my cousin.”

“Ah.” The lady nodded her head knowingly. “I knew there was some sort of kinship there by the gentle way you were looking at her.”

Rem glanced once more at the sleeping dark head of Isadora, and couldn’t resist admitting, “She’s very special.”

The woman clutched her valise in her weathered, veined hands and smiled gently. “Where are you heading?”

“Dalkeith. Just south of Edinburgh.”

“I’m familiar with the town.”

“What about you?” Rem asked conversationally.

“I’m just traveling to Hawick. Not nearly as far as you.” Her eyes sparkled proudly. “I’m going to see my new grandson.”

Rem found her easy nature to be quite enjoyable. “No doubt you’re excited.”

“Indeed. I am.” She smiled warmly. “It’s why I thought you were wed. I see the same glimmer in my son’s eye when he looks at his Emily.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” he said.

---