Janice Preston - Regency Surrender - Scandalous Return - Return of Scandal's Son / Saved by Scandal's Heir

Hmmph . It was no good brooding over it. What had happened had happened. She must ensure she was never again alone with Matthew. It would only be for a couple of days and then their paths would never cross again.

* * *

In the yard of the George two chaise-and-fours were standing ready for their journey. Aunt Lucy and Eleanor would travel in the first—as yesterday—and Lizzie, Matilda and Timothy would ride in the second. Eleanor looked around. There was no sign of Matthew, or of his curricle and pair. Perhaps, she thought with a swell of relief, ignoring the sting of disappointment that followed close on its heels, he had decided against accompanying them after all.

A footstep behind her, and the waft of tangy citrus, alerted her to his presence.

‘Good morning, my lady. I trust your headache is better?’

Eleanor inclined her head. ‘Very much so, Mr Thomas. Thank you for enquiring.’

So formal. She risked a glance. He held out his hand.

‘Allow me to assist you into the chaise.’

She placed her gloved hand in his. Strong fingers closed over hers and anticipation whispered deep in her belly. She lifted her chin and climbed the steps into the vehicle, taking her seat next to Aunt Lucy, who was already inside. She looked to the door, to thank Matthew, and bit back a gasp as he climbed in behind her.

‘Are you not driving yourself?’

She felt her colour rise as Matthew regarded her, one brow raised. She had not meant to sound so brusque.

‘I drove the horses hard yesterday,’ he said. ‘They will benefit from a day or two’s rest and then Henry will drive them to London in easy stages. I am afraid, therefore, that you must endure my presence for the remainder of the journey to London.’

‘How pleasant it will be to have your company, Mr Thomas.’ Aunt Lucy beamed as she nudged Eleanor. ‘Will it not, my pet?’

* * *

We will forget this ever happened.

Matthew Thomas had been true to his word, Eleanor granted him that. Not by a single look, or word, or deed did he even hint at what had passed between them at the George. Far from being relieved, Eleanor found herself growing more and more irritated as time passed. When she had vowed never to be alone with Matthew again, she had imagined him contriving circumstances in which they would meet and she would be the strong one, denying him despite his protestations. Instead, he made no effort whatsoever to manoeuvre her into being alone with him. They had not even had the opportunity to exchange a private word.

Not that I want to be alone with him.

She simply longed for the chance to spurn him. To prove that kissing him was something she regretted. Deeply.

* * *

The following morning, Eleanor paid the reckoning at the White Hart in Loughborough and was about to climb into the post-chaise, when Matthew strode from the inn, a thunderous frown on his face.

‘I pay my own way.’

‘And a very good morning to you, too, Mr Thomas,’ Eleanor said, lifting her chin. Both she and Aunt Lucy had broken their fast in their rooms, so this was their first meeting of the day. His manner did not bode well for a pleasant journey. ‘There is no call for you to turn top-lofty. This is my party, my journey. I pay.’

It was the only way she could retain her dignity. The tug of attraction was still strong. The memory of his kiss still set her senses aflame. His assumption of command throughout their first day of travel—overseeing the changes of the horses, arranging refreshments and private parlours to rest in, and checking and organising the security of the inn they stayed in overnight—had lifted the burden of responsibility from Eleanor. And she was both relieved and affronted by it. An inner tussle with her conscience had resulted in her admitting—but only privately—that, on balance, it was pleasant to have a man to take charge for a change.

She was no longer shy and uncomfortable with him. Mayhap that was because he no longer looked at her in that particular way, his blue eyes penetrating until her innermost thoughts felt exposed to his inspection. And, since that night at the George, he had neither teased her nor flirted with her. His manner had been that of a polite, casual acquaintance. Eleanor had been able to move past the fluster and the blushes, and treat him—on the surface, at least—as the simple travelling companion he was. But the desire to assert her authority was powerful and paying their way was how she chose to salvage her self-esteem. Ultimately, she who pays the piper calls the tune, she thought with satisfaction.

She had known he might object. She had not anticipated such fury. It was rigidly controlled, but fury none the less.

‘You may pay for your own accommodation and that of the servants,’ he said in a tight, low voice, ‘but I will not have you paying for my room and board. Here.’ He thrust out his hand, opening it to reveal a clutch of coins on his palm. ‘Take them.’

‘No. You are supplying a service. I will be responsible for your expenses.’ Eleanor turned and climbed into the post-chaise.

‘By God, you are the most infuriating woman I have ever met.’ Matthew leant in the open door, blue eyes blazing. ‘I have no need of your charity, Lady Ashby.’

Eleanor swallowed hard. ‘I do not view it as charity, but as my obligation.’

‘I may not have your wealth, but I am not poor. I can pay my way.’

‘I did not think for one moment that you couldn’t. Tell me—’ she locked gazes with him ‘—if I were a man, could you honestly say we would be having this same discussion?’

Matthew opened his mouth, then closed it again. Inhaled, nostrils flaring. He climbed into the chaise and sat down, leaning back into the corner, eyes narrowed as he regarded her.

‘I don’t know,’ he finally said. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. ‘I cannot imagine another man accepting he might need my protection. But do not think that means I will accept you paying for my accommodation or my meals on the rest of the journey, for I will not.’

‘And if I pay anyway?’

‘Then there will be some very lucky innkeepers between here and London, for they will be paid twice over for the one service.’

Hmmph. ‘It appears I must concede the point this time.’

‘What point might that be, Ellie?’ Aunt Lucy asked as Timothy handed her into the post-chaise.

‘Mr Thomas is offended that I have settled his account at the inn.’

‘I see,’ Aunt Lucy said, as she settled on to the seat between them.

She said no more, but it was clear from the sidelong look she bent on Eleanor that she considered her niece to be in the wrong. The journey passed with very little conversation other than passing comments on the scenery or the weather.

* * *

At the first stop to change the horses, however, Aunt Lucy returned to the subject as soon as Matthew left the post-chaise.

‘I am surprised at you, Ellie. Have you no consideration for a young man’s pride?’

‘Of course I have.’ Eleanor was stung by her aunt’s criticism. What about her own pride? Being kissed by a man—no, kissing a man—and then being roundly ignored? ‘I meant no slight.’ Had she really bruised his pride? Guilt stirred deep inside as she reviewed her actions and their conversation. Although she was determined to prove her capabilities in running her estates, she had always taken care not to flaunt her wealth or her privilege in front of others. Particularly men. She had realised, as she matured, that many men resented her title and her wealth simply because they afforded her that elusive advantage—for a female—of independence.

‘The best solution is for you to hand over the travelling purse to Mr Thomas,’ Aunt Lucy said, ‘and then he can settle the accounts and his pride will not suffer.’